National geographic rocks and fossils kit
Pinnacles National Park
2015.10.21 04:01 greatyellowshark Pinnacles National Park
Pinnacles National Park in San Benito County & Monterey County, California.
2023.05.28 18:12 intertechedu Unlocking Opportunities: Private Distance Secondary Education with Interteach
 | Introduction submitted by intertechedu to u/intertechedu [link] [comments] --------------------------------- In today's fast-paced world, traditional secondary education may not always be feasible for every student. Whether due to geographical constraints, personal circumstances, or the need for a more flexible learning environment, many students are turning to private distance secondary education as an alternative. Interteach recognizes the importance of providing high-quality education that adapts to the unique needs of each student. In this blog post, we will explore the concept of private distance secondary education, its advantages, methodologies, and how Interteach is revolutionizing this form of education to unlock a world of opportunities for students. 1. The Rise of Private Distance Secondary Education --------------------------------------------------------------------- Private distance secondary education has gained significant popularity in recent years. This educational approach offers students the flexibility to study at their own pace, in their preferred environment, and with personalized support. We delve into the reasons behind the increasing demand for private distance secondary education and how it has become a viable option for students seeking a tailored and convenient educational experience. https://preview.redd.it/c6pdo2ye1n2b1.jpg?width=315&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d527031ecbd674d42118045676f47b5e977de2f9 2. Advantages of Private Distance Secondary Education ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Private distance secondary education brings several advantages for students. It offers a customized learning experience, allowing students to focus on their individual strengths and interests. With the flexibility to create their own schedules, students can strike a balance between their academic pursuits and other commitments. Moreover, private distance education eliminates the limitations of geographical boundaries, giving students access to high-quality education regardless of their location. We explore these advantages in detail and highlight how Interteach maximizes these benefits for students. 3. The Interteach Approach: Blending Technology and Personalized Instruction ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Interteach has developed an innovative approach to private distance secondary education that combines cutting-edge technology with personalized instruction. We leverage interactive online platforms, virtual classrooms, and multimedia resources to deliver engaging and interactive lessons. Our specialized teachers provide one-on-one support and mentorship, ensuring that each student receives personalized attention and guidance throughout their educational journey. We discuss how Interteach's approach fosters academic growth, promotes self-discipline, and cultivates a love for learning. 4. Comprehensive Curriculum and Skill Development ------------------------------------------------------------------- Interteach offers a comprehensive curriculum that covers a wide range of subjects and meets national and international educational standards. Our curriculum goes beyond traditional textbook learning, emphasizing critical thinking, problem-solving, and practical application of knowledge. We emphasize the development of essential 21st-century skills, such as communication, collaboration, creativity, and adaptability. By nurturing these skills, Interteach prepares students for success in higher education, careers, and life. 5. Support Services and Community Engagement ------------------------------------------------------------- Interteach understands the importance of comprehensive support for students in private distance secondary education. We provide a range of support services, including academic advising, college counseling, and technical assistance. Additionally, Interteach fosters a sense of community among students through virtual interactions, extracurricular activities, and networking opportunities. We highlight the value of these support services in enhancing the overall educational experience and creating a supportive learning environment. Conclusion ----------------------------- Private distance secondary education offered by Interteach opens up new horizons for students, empowering them to pursue their educational goals on their own terms. With a focus on personalized instruction, technological innovation, and a comprehensive curriculum, Interteach revolutionizes the concept of private distance secondary education. Through our commitment to excellence, flexibility, and support, we aim to unlock a world of opportunities for students, enabling them to thrive academically, personally, and professionally. |
2023.05.28 17:29 Extra-Pineapple6427 Please help me find this shirt! I found an old pic of my parents and my dad was wearing this and I love it. White short sleeved shirt. Shirt might be from the early 80s-mid 90s.
 | He passed away and I can’t ask him. Shirt might be from the 80s or 90s…he loved 70s rock and roll and national parks, don’t know if this is a band shirt or something? submitted by Extra-Pineapple6427 to findfashion [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 17:13 WeToteHeaters Not your average Rolex owner
 | Actually wears it, good for him. submitted by WeToteHeaters to WatchesCirclejerk [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 17:04 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.05.28 17:01 Lamarian67 WICCA - Chapter 25 - Those in Low Places (Part 1)
There’d been another shooting today, in some dainty little cafe downtown, in the places tucked so neatly away only people who had visited there their whole lives went. Pete Cordell sighed to himself as he stepped past the shattered glass. Once, the scene inside the cafe would have made his stomach turn. These days, the sight of eviscerated bodies and rooms painted with blood barely fazed him. The entire cafe was ruined, bullet holes riddling every surface imaginable. He whistled, low.
“They must have used up ten mags to do this much damage,” he observed out loud.
“Hey, you’re finally here!”
Pete looked up at the new voice - a man he’d worked with for a bit under four years now but still barely knew anything about - Wesley Smith. “Crazy shit, isn’t it? You’d think it was an action movie in here with the amount of bullets they dumped.”
“I’ll say,” Pete grumbled.
“That ain’t the weirdest shit though. Come over here.” Dividing the cafe in half was a massive sheet, and Wesley brushed past it as Pete followed. He stared.
On the ground was a gun - which wasn’t the first thing to draw his attention. What did draw his attention was the pool of blood on the ground, way too large for any normal injury to have caused. He moved his gaze around and his jaw slackened. Slumped against the wall were the remains of a black-robed man - although remains were generous, considering all that remained was a single arm, a head, and blood-soaked garments. The wall behind the remains was cracked and severely dented, as if something great and powerful had rammed into it. A few feet away, a body had its head entirely gone, nowhere to be seen, with only a spray of blood, a stain of flesh and the same deep impact on the wall where the head should have been.
“Pretty freaky, right?” Wesley’s facade of bravado wouldn’t have fooled even a child. “Makes you feel like you’re in one of them horror stories, you know?”
“I’ll say,” Pete repeated, coughing to get rid of his shaky voice. A buzz from his radio drew his attention, and he held it up to his ear.
“All officers to the station now. I repeat, all officers to the station now.” The voice on the other end was… strange, but Pete chalked that up to his wracked nerves.
He nodded to Wesley and ignored the strange feeling in his stomach. “Alright. Let’s go.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later, Pete was flipping pancakes in the kitchen. His wife came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as the kids squabbled around the table.
“Had a good sleep?” He asked as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
She hummed in affirmation. “How was the latest case?” she asked.
He frowned. It’d been another shooting, in some dainty cafe downtown, and he’d… hang on, what had he done? Before he could strain himself too much, a memory slotted into place and he relaxed.
“Oh, nothing special. Nothing special at all.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was just a few minutes into the breaking of dawn that a massive clanging woke Devona up. He shot out of the bed, not falling out of the bed but instead scrambling for the lightswitch as he got to his feet. His brain pushed past the fight or flight instinct that had shattered his sleep and he relaxed again as his memories came back. A few months into WICCA’s formation, during the time that they had been starting to talk to each other for purposes other than business, they’d headed over to Cirius’s abode.
“And here is my bed!”
They all stared at the bare mattress lying upon a metal frame, only a thin scrap of fabric and something that was barely a pillow upon it. The rest of the apartment wasn’t faring much better, with only a mini-fridge in the kitchen and one of each bathroom item. The walls were a murky grey with the wallpaper peeling, and there was a stench of alcohol in the air.
Axon let out a whistle. “Damn, you live like this?” Her expression turned solemn. “Seriously, though, these conditions are pretty rough.”
Cirius shrugged. “Eh. Could be worse. I used to just find a dumpster that wasn’t full and sleep in there.”
Devona sucked in a breath. “That’s… really bad.”
Cirius gave another shrug. “Some dumpsters aren’t that bad actually. Getting chased away with a broom for being an intruder or like, getting shot, is worse.”
“Well, moving on from that depressing bit of background, you could for sure get a better apartment with how much you’re being paid,” Axon interjected.
Cirius’s eyes widened. “I could?”
“Yeah, man. You know how much money you have. It’s all in your bank account.”
His eyes widened further. I have a bank account?”
“What do you mean? I sent the details to you through your email…” Understanding dawned across her face. “Goddamn it.”
There was a crash outside of the apartment, drawing their attention towards it. Devona walked open to the door and gingerly opened it to reveal two men tussling upon the ground, swearing angrily at each other.
“Hey John!” exclaimed Cirius cheerfully as the man on top lifted his fist and slammed it on the other’s face.
Devona stepped forward with his hands held out placatingly in front of himself.
“Alright, now, let’s calm-”
Devona was interrupted as he was talking by a fist swinging straight towards his face. As he reeled back, another hand was already closing over it and forcing the assailant down. Harlow stared down at the man they were forcing down with a singular hand, watching as his expression strained to continue to look defiant through the pain.
They pressed down further, causing the man’s expression to shift into pain as he hammered onto the floor with his free hand, hollering to let him go.
Devona gingerly placed his hand on their shoulder. “Hey, I think that’s enough now.”
Harlow raised an eyebrow at them. He tried to punch you.
“Well, he didn’t punch me.”
Harlow tilted their head but let go of the person, allowing him to run off with a bruised ego and most likely a bruised wrist. The other man got up and staggered away, the smell of alcohol fresh in the air. Devona let his hand drop as Harlow watched them go, wiping their hand upon their cloak.
After that, Cirius had thankfully used the money to get a proper apartment. Or rather, several proper apartments since he kept getting kicked out. And now he had found himself inside Devona’s new house. Devona sighed and rubbed his eyes to get rid of the tiredness, heading down the stairs to see what the commotion was all about. Cirius was sprawled upon the floor, his pillow several feet away, the couch he was staying on half tipped over and his blanket looking like it had been attacked by a savage animal.
He waved. “Hey bossman.”
Devona stared. “How.”
“Well, you see, I kinda woke up. And stuff was like this.”
Devona sighed and picked Cirius up. He held him like a cat, with his hands underneath the arms as Cirius’s legs dangled, and plopped him down onto the couch after pushing it down with his feet. He began to clean up the rest of the mess. Cirius shot to his feet instantly.
“I could-”
Devona waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s early, just try to get some more rest in. I’ll get another blanket.” He continued to clean up in silence, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He turned and Cirius was still sitting up, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“Well, if we’re not going to sleep again, why don’t we eat breakfast? I’ll get the cereal.”
They ate together in silence, letting the sound of chewing fill the air. As Devona was thinking about setting up a garden outside, Cirius spoke up.
“Sorry for the blanket. And for waking you up. And-“
Devona raised a hand. “I told you, it’s fine.” Internally, he frowned.
“Was Cirius still hung up about that?” He had noticed an uncanny silence, but he had drawn that up to tiredness. Speaking of, was Cirius even tired? Cirius had been wide awake every time Devona had gone to bed, and wide awake when Devona awoke. One time, Devona had walked blearily down the stairs to get a glass of water in the dead of night, and almost got a heart attack from Cirius suddenly talking.
“So, what’s the mission for today, bossman?” Cirius interrupted his train of thought, rocking on his chair and back to his usual bounciness.
“Well, if you read your email, you’d know,” Devona deadpanned before relenting. “It’s just an attendance to some event that acts as a cover for underground dealings. While Claren deals with negotiations, we mingle with the crowd unless Harlow needs some backup. They’ll be off stealing some documents.” He polished off the last of the cereal. “We should get some more rest before the mission. Don’t want to be too tired.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claren and Harlow were already there when Cirius and Devona arrived. They were all dressed in suits again, like they had been at that party months back. Claren took a few seconds to assess their outfits. Before the mission, Claren had talked with Devona, telling him that he would stand out too much. His height was the most obvious, but according to Claren his posture was ‘too subdued and open to pass as a crime lord’. Instead, Devona would be with Harlow, finding the documents, while Cirius would be a possible back-up to Claren. Really, it was because it was doubtful that he would be able to carry out a stealth mission.
Devona went over to greet Harlow. After exchanging conversation, he grabbed Harlow by the shoulder and the two of them vanished. Claren adjusted his suit, the light glinting off of the two rings on his fingers. “Well, you can go and mingle with the party. If I’m in trouble, try to cause a distraction.”
Cirius nodded thoughtfully. “Explosions?”
“Try to keep those to a minimum.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cirius was mingling, but he was not mingling happily. The people really did hold themselves in a different way than Devona did, with pushed up chests and little hand waves. Everyone who talked to him seemed to need to suddenly leave, so Cirius was currently standing by the food table chomping on dishes.
“Real boring party,” a voice drawled.
Cirius turned. He tilted his head and stopped biting down on the plate. Leaning up against the table with an easy casualness, dressed in a full tuxedo with bowtie and tailed coat, the speaker plucked a grape from the stem and popped it into her mouth. Her rainbow scarf swished as she swivelled her head to look down at him, and her mismatched eyes were lit with amusement. She seemed familiar, but Cirius couldn’t put his finger on why. “Wouldn’t you say so?”
Cirius thought about this. “Eh, it’s alright. I remember one time I blacked out at a party like this and woke up in a bathtub filled with ice.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re a pretty funny guy,” she snickered, waving a fork at him.
Her smile tapered into a grin, and her eyes narrowed. “But in my opinion, this party could really use some better entertainment.” She pulled a mask over her face - one of a white demon with small, pointed horns, and drew a glaive from her back. She threw it. The glaive soared through the air, and Cirius watched as it trailed dried intestines through the air before embedding itself deep inside the chest of one of the guests. Screams tore through the air and Cirius remembered that murder was not good.
“Claren, there’s been a murder! That’s not good!” he yelled, his voice drowned out by the din of panic and magic. The woman dodged past beams of energy and fire, grabbing onto the handle of the glaive and swinging it in a wide arc around her, carving into anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. Claren burst out from the room, his eyes narrowing and shield wrapping around him as soon as he realised the situation. He pressed up against the wall and then shot forward, like a rubber ball that had suddenly been decompressed. The woman’s cackling was interrupted as he slammed into her full force, sending the both of them crashing across the floor.
“Laurel Pariah. I didn’t expect you to show your face again so soon.” Cirius was close enough to hear them, and it helped that everybody had either ran away or died.
“So, my reputation precedes me,” Laurel responded brightly, kicking Claren off and swinging her glaive right at him. He raised his arm and it glanced off the glimmering shield, giving him an opportunity to land a blow at her gut. She stumbled back and he struck her across the head as she was darting backwards. Her glaive sliced through the air but ricocheted off of Claren’s shield, and he grabbed the bladed end to bring Laurel in closer. She kicked at him, causing her leg to bounce back and almost knock her over, only being held above ground by an uppercut directly into her stomach. She managed to stagger backwards, coughing.
“Wow, you really don’t play around do you?” she wheezed. “I didn’t expect to use my magic so soon, but I guess it can’t be helped.”
Claren moved back, tilting his head towards Cirius. “Go herd the people outside to safety. I’ll deal with her.” Cirius flashed him a thumbs up and headed in the direction of panicked shouts. Claren’s eyes scoured the room, as if looking for whatever Laurel may use against him. Speaking of Laurel, something strange appeared to be happening to her. Her skin seemed pale, almost bright. No, definitely bright - glowing, in fact. Before Claren could register it fully however, Laurel pivoted with a kick and sent a bolt of lightning slamming into him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The two of them had gotten past security with ease, Devona stealing documents from right under noses and Harlow repeating the pattern of fingerprints upon keyboards. The two of them were currently sitting upon beams, dangling their legs high above the ground.
Just a few more, and we’ll be out of here soon.
Devona tilted his head to the side. “These people really love to party, huh.”
Harlow chewed their cheek. Well, it’s sort of a coping mechanism. Unlike the more recent sorcerers like you and I, these people grew up in a society wholly made from those who possess magic. There’s a certain sense of… superiority within those places. To them, death was less of a constant presence. That was until the Scourges came. Suddenly humans, magic or not, were all pushed down a level on the food chain. That sudden shock of mortality, paired with the changing landscape of the world, is certain to cause some stress. They leaned backwards on their hands. Not to mention, it’s a pretty good cover for criminal activity.
Devona hummed. “Yeah, the world's a chaotic place.” He bowed his head slightly. “Do you think we can win? Against the Scourges, that is.”
Their tongue traced the inside of their mouth as they mulled, an action mirrored from others despite their mouth never being used to talk. It’s unclear. We don’t even know where the Scourges are coming from or what they are. There could be only a small handful left in the world, or there could be legions waiting to invade. We manage to push them back, but not without loss. The Scourge at Scotland was one of the weaker ones. The teleporting Scourge was one of the less destructive ones. And yet they managed to cause so much devastation. They tilted their head to meet his gaze. But I think we’ll win.
Devona smiled. “I hope so.”
How’s it going with Cirius at your place, by the way?
Devona scrunched up his forehead as memories came flooding in. “Well, he doesn’t eat unless I make him. Or really visit the bathroom since he doesn’t eat. I don’t even think he sleeps, at least not most of the time. I’ve also never seen him change his clothes. He seems weirdly nervous at times though. He’s probably destroyed like five of my blankets by now. He keeps giving me heart attacks at night by scurrying around the house. He tried to cook once and blew up the entire kitchen. I’m not even exaggerating, he had third degree burns all over his skin. Took me ages to patch him up, especially with him refusing to remove his clothing.” Devona sighed and noticed Harlow’s expression. They had a bemused expression on their face. “What is it?” You’re quite an attentive person, that’s all. They turned their gaze elsewhere. The last of the physical documents should be three doors down on the rightmost corridor.
“What will you be doing?”
Attending to my own business. I’ll meet you afterwards.
Devona nodded and vanished, leaving Harlow alone underneath the clouded sky.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The hierarchy of the world was simple. At the bottom were the plants, the insects, the ones who barely fed themselves and were gorged upon or crushed by a wayward hand. On top, edging them out were the small predators, the mice and shrews of the world. And above them this and this and that until up on top the world, the pinnacle of power, was humanity. Of course, there was division within humanity. Some believed it to be race, or gender, or sexuality, or any other sort of arbitrary difference they’d use to hold a sense of superiority over others. But the true division, the fissure that stretched across like the mouth of a god, was magic.
Opal Pact was currently walking upon the tightrope across that fissure. To live in a world of magic without any of your own was common, given how billions of people did it, but to know about magic and to live in its world was less so. Of course, it was a lot less dramatic than her mini-monologues in her head, like the one about hierarchies, had made it seem. Most would expect fabulous displays of power, magic that could bend and buckle nations. Instead, they got people who could throw fancy balls that were basically slower, less effective bullets, or throw fireballs which were once again slower, less effective bullets, or become pinnacles of physical brawn who were immune to bullets and who were as susceptible to chemical warfare as anybody else. Even the ones who held incredible power weren’t immune to a knife in their neck in the dead of night. The point was, Opal was less of walking upon a tightrope and more of peering into a secret party and inviting herself in. Besides, if those unedited videos of cities’ destruction were anything to go buy, humans weren’t the top of the food-chain anymore, magic or not.
She whistled to herself, the tune of some forgotten song as she twirled a crowbar between her fingers. She knocked on the door to the security room and then smashed it open, interrupting the guard who was in the middle of trying to figure out why several of the cameras had stopped working. The smashing of the crowbar into his face sent several of his teeth scattering, and he collapsed onto his desk. He’d be fine, probably. Opal mentally shrugged with that thought and pushed him off the wheely chair, letting him flop onto the floor as she took a seat. She grabbed a can of oil from her bag and poured it out the door, letting it run down across the hallway. The tinted plastic she’d stuck to the lights before she’d made her entrance were just yellow enough that anyone who came rushing in wouldn’t have time to notice the oil until it was too late.
Opal slammed the door as shut as she could, kicking her feet onto the table and popping a piece of gum into her mouth. She chewed, letting the sugar flare upon her tongue as her fingers ran across the keyboard. There was a sound of people yelling, then the sound of bodies slamming against the wall and floor. She stretched her arms behind her head, kicking off of the desk to avoid the blast of energy that ripped right through the door. It was shoved open and Opal pushed off the wall towards the attacker, pulling out her taser and jabbing it into his stomach. He staggered and then slipped, falling chin-first onto the floor. She stepped off of the chair and kicked it, sending it bouncing around and knocking down the few guards who managed to remain standing. She slid across the floor, using the slickness to her advantage to weave past grasping hands and past the oil. Grabbing a matchbox from her hand, she struck a match and held it loftily between the fingers. The effect was immediate, with all the guards scrambling across the floors on either all fours or trying their best to stand up. She tossed the match to the oil-slicken ground and slid into the next room. The oil wasn’t flammable.
The oil eventually rubbed off from the friction, leaving Opal to walk along the floor. She eventually found what she came for. She smashed the lock off of the door, the alarm already having been disabled by her in the security room. She popped her bubble of gum and pushed the door open. Standing in the room, looking incredibly confused, was an incredibly tall man. He stared at her, the documents on the desk in front of him. She stared at him. He stared at her. She grabbed the tablecloth and threw it over his head, snatching up the documents as he stumbled back.
Opal dove out the door before the man could get his bearings, skidding across the floor and breaking into a sprint. She pulled out a bag of marbles and tossed it behind her, spilling the contents all across the floor. She used the crowbar to jam the door behind her shut, running past the winding hallways. The exit wasn’t far, and soon she’d be able to hop on her motorcycle and be scot free.
She wheeled around the corner and almost collided into a group of sorcerers. She could tell they were sorcerers since they immediately threw blasts of energy her way as she ducked behind the wall. One of them charged forward and punched the wall where her head had been. He lifted his arm to strike again and then vanished.
“Huh?” The other sorcerers seemed equally confused. Something appeared from nowhere and smacked into the face of one, leaving the last to look around panickedly before the frying pan knocked him out. The man from before appeared out of thin air, looking much more annoyed than he had before. He waved his pan at her face.
“Alright, who the hell are you?”
“Invisibility, probably. Strong as well if he managed to bypass the crowbar so easily, or crafty if he found another way to track me,” her mind supplied.
Opal rooted around for her spray-can. “Who am I? Oh, no-one really. Just a gal trying to make her way in the world.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “Would you be willing to hand over the documents?”
Opal pressed her thumb and index to her chin. “Eh, probably not.”
He sighed. He vanished right as Opal lifted her spray can and sent a blast of black into his face. She broke into a sprint, shoving the documents into her pocket as she continued to dash.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Being short certainly had its shortcomings. Cirius couldn’t shout louder than the clamour, so he climbed onto whatever surface he could find and grabbed onto a plate and a fork. He scraped the prongs along the ceramic and the screech was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention.
“Alright, alright, listen up! I’ve been told to get you guys out of here, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
The people still seemed panicked and extremely suspicious. One of them aimed a hand full of fire at him. “Who the hell are you? And why should we listen to you?”
“You guys are running around too much! Look, that guy has other people standing on top of him!”
“Help.”
“In an emergency situation, it’s always good to have someone to direct everyone else. People tend to panic and move erratically, so having a leader allows the people to calm themselves down and move in a controlled manner, minimising the risk to themselves and each other,” Cirius recited. He felt a dash of smugness for remembering the entire thing.
The people did not seem very impressed. They stared up at him with confused and vaguely disgusted expressions.
“Anyways, the point is, we’re going to leave now.”
“What about the people back there!” one person exclaimed. “I have a husband who’s possibly dying right now!”
Cirius frowned. “What did he look like?” “He had- he has blonde hair, is wearing a suit with a blue tie-”
“Oh, I think I saw who you’re talking about!”
“Really? Was he alright?”
Cirius scratched his head. “Uh, well, if he can survive without his head on then he should be good.”
“What the hell is wrong with you!”
“Come on, man!” “Why would you say that?”
Exclamations and cries of dismay rose up from the crowd and suddenly everyone was yelling at him.They started to throw plates and utensils at him, throwing insults along with them.
“Alright, alright, let’s just calm down,” he tried to say over the clamour. A plate smacked onto his head and dazed him for a second. Frustration bubbled in his chest as the people kept on yelling and yelling and the noise built up and up until the frustration melded into anger and burst from him.
“Shut up! Shut up, all of you!” he yelled, his own voice barely rising above the chaos. He grabbed a plate of his own and threw it into the crowd. “I’m trying to save your goddamn lives you idiots!”
Something bright came flying at him and he felt his body light ablaze, the fire rapidly spreading over his clothes and flesh. A silence fell over the crowd, their expressions now of shock and bewilderment rather than outrage. He moved his head towards the one who threw the fireball, the slight movement drawing gasps from the people around him. He jumped down from the table and walked towards the attacker, everyone else clearing a wide berth around him. He dug his fingernails into his bubbling flesh, tearing deep and causing blood to spill out, dampening the flames with a hiss. Blood dripped onto the floor as he flexed his hand before pulling his arm back and punching the elemental in the face. His hand practically exploded, spraying gore and viscera all over the man’s features. He fell to the floor with a horrified scream, too distracted to notice Cirius lifting a chair until it was already coming down on his head. Cirius patted down his body, ripping away at skin where the fire refused to die out. He turned to the crowd - or at least, the blurry outline of the crowd.
“So, are we ready to go now?” he asked brightly. He lifted his hand to scratch at his face and felt bone. The crowd nodded, subdued. “Pick that guy up, by the way.” He turned to the exit and they all followed suit.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Devona was not having a good time. He’d managed to avoid most of the spray, but he’d needed to wipe away at his eyes before they stung too much. He floated past the groaning guards on the oil-slick floor, up the stairs to the upper floors. Marbles were strewn across the ground, and one man was rolling around while clutching his spray-painted eyes. The window on the far end was smashed open despite the latch being unlocked. Peeking his head around, he could see the perpetrator running along the rooftop, sticking her tongue out at the people on the ground. She grabbed an egg from her pocket and slung it at the head of one, exploding it all over his face as he tried to grab his gun.
She ducked down and slid along the tiles as bullets fired above her head, grabbing the side and swinging down into the window. A few seconds later, a chair was flung out and slammed into the remaining guards. A guard rushed up to the window next to Devona, pulling out a machine gun. Devona wasn’t a fan of excessive violence against his enemies, so he introduced his face to a frying pan. At the same time, the thief, as Devona had dubbed her, was thrown from the window. She managed to grab onto the curtain and ripped it as she slid down the wall, landing with a thud onto the ground. Standing there in the doorframe, holding onto ruffled documents as air swirled was a guard, more filing around her with magic swirling in the air.
Devona felt movement behind him and phased out, dodging the blast of energy that would have taken off his head. He grabbed the guard and phased them out with him, using their newfound weightlessness to throw them as hard. All eyes snapped to the man as he flew through the air, giving Devona enough time to swoop down and phase out the thief.
He dropped the two of them on the roof of the building overlooking the guards as they looked around in surprise. The thief immediately got to talking.
“So, you can phase out, huh? I thought you might have been a Neoteric, seeing as you look less out-of-touch than a lot of other sorcerers. Do you have a cool name for your discipline?”
Devona glanced at her. “It’s incorporealism.”
She rolled her eyes. “Bo-ring. You develop a whole branch of magic and you give it some lame name like that?”
“It’s not- whatever.”
She sighed and rolled her shoulders. “Why don’t we make a truce?” she said suddenly. “Just until we get the documents. Especially since they see us now.”
Devona looked down just in time to weave to the side and let the lightning pass by him. There was a woosh of air and all the guards were upon the roof, one of them still holding the documents in her hand.
A gust of air, a blast, and several bullets connected with nothing as Devona vanished. He grabbed one guard and threw them off, lashing out with only his foot physical and kicked another guard right in the stomach. Weave, dodge, strike, move back, more forward. The movements weren’t as fluid as they could have been, and he winced from a graze across his arm, but it wasn’t long before he and the thief were the only people still standing upon the roof.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Wow. Not bad. You’re quite the combatant.”
Devona started looking around for where the documents had fallen, turning his back to her. “Thanks.”
“What’s your name by the way?”
He lifted up one of the unconscious bodies. “It’s Devona. Yours?”
“Bergeron.” A strange name, but Devona wasn’t one to judge. “Say, I’ve just to ask, why did you save me back there?”
Devona frowned. “Is it not enough to not want to see another person die?”
She hummed. There was a bit of movement from behind him, and Devona phased out as a taser struck where he had just been. He phased back in, lashing out with a pivot and kick that slammed into her gut. He grabbed his pan and swung it at her head, clipping only her hair as she ducked down and he withdrew his body as she jabbed with her taser again. He slammed his pan onto her arm before she could reel it back in. Her taser dropped and Devona managed to strike her across the head, sending her stumbling back. She clutched his arm as if it was broken and Devona faltered slightly, just long enough for her to lash out with another hidden taser and hit him right in the gut. She grabbed onto her crowbar and smashed it against his head, with him managing to only slightly dodge the impact. He phased out again and grabbed her by the arm, throwing her against the wall. He stumbled, his vision turning white as rivulets of blood ran down his nose. Before he could recover he felt the crowbar slam into his hip and his legs buckled. The cool metal of the taser pressed into his back and jolts ran through his body.
submitted by Lamarian67 to SkulduggerySubreddit [link] [comments]
“They must have used up ten mags to do this much damage,” he observed out loud.
“Hey, you’re finally here!”
Pete looked up at the new voice - a man he’d worked with for a bit under four years now but still barely knew anything about - Wesley Smith. “Crazy shit, isn’t it? You’d think it was an action movie in here with the amount of bullets they dumped.”
“I’ll say,” Pete grumbled.
“That ain’t the weirdest shit though. Come over here.” Dividing the cafe in half was a massive sheet, and Wesley brushed past it as Pete followed. He stared.
On the ground was a gun - which wasn’t the first thing to draw his attention. What did draw his attention was the pool of blood on the ground, way too large for any normal injury to have caused. He moved his gaze around and his jaw slackened. Slumped against the wall were the remains of a black-robed man - although remains were generous, considering all that remained was a single arm, a head, and blood-soaked garments. The wall behind the remains was cracked and severely dented, as if something great and powerful had rammed into it. A few feet away, a body had its head entirely gone, nowhere to be seen, with only a spray of blood, a stain of flesh and the same deep impact on the wall where the head should have been.
“Pretty freaky, right?” Wesley’s facade of bravado wouldn’t have fooled even a child. “Makes you feel like you’re in one of them horror stories, you know?”
“I’ll say,” Pete repeated, coughing to get rid of his shaky voice. A buzz from his radio drew his attention, and he held it up to his ear.
“All officers to the station now. I repeat, all officers to the station now.” The voice on the other end was… strange, but Pete chalked that up to his wracked nerves.
He nodded to Wesley and ignored the strange feeling in his stomach. “Alright. Let’s go.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later, Pete was flipping pancakes in the kitchen. His wife came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as the kids squabbled around the table.
“Had a good sleep?” He asked as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
She hummed in affirmation. “How was the latest case?” she asked.
He frowned. It’d been another shooting, in some dainty cafe downtown, and he’d… hang on, what had he done? Before he could strain himself too much, a memory slotted into place and he relaxed.
“Oh, nothing special. Nothing special at all.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was just a few minutes into the breaking of dawn that a massive clanging woke Devona up. He shot out of the bed, not falling out of the bed but instead scrambling for the lightswitch as he got to his feet. His brain pushed past the fight or flight instinct that had shattered his sleep and he relaxed again as his memories came back. A few months into WICCA’s formation, during the time that they had been starting to talk to each other for purposes other than business, they’d headed over to Cirius’s abode.
“And here is my bed!”
They all stared at the bare mattress lying upon a metal frame, only a thin scrap of fabric and something that was barely a pillow upon it. The rest of the apartment wasn’t faring much better, with only a mini-fridge in the kitchen and one of each bathroom item. The walls were a murky grey with the wallpaper peeling, and there was a stench of alcohol in the air.
Axon let out a whistle. “Damn, you live like this?” Her expression turned solemn. “Seriously, though, these conditions are pretty rough.”
Cirius shrugged. “Eh. Could be worse. I used to just find a dumpster that wasn’t full and sleep in there.”
Devona sucked in a breath. “That’s… really bad.”
Cirius gave another shrug. “Some dumpsters aren’t that bad actually. Getting chased away with a broom for being an intruder or like, getting shot, is worse.”
“Well, moving on from that depressing bit of background, you could for sure get a better apartment with how much you’re being paid,” Axon interjected.
Cirius’s eyes widened. “I could?”
“Yeah, man. You know how much money you have. It’s all in your bank account.”
His eyes widened further. I have a bank account?”
“What do you mean? I sent the details to you through your email…” Understanding dawned across her face. “Goddamn it.”
There was a crash outside of the apartment, drawing their attention towards it. Devona walked open to the door and gingerly opened it to reveal two men tussling upon the ground, swearing angrily at each other.
“Hey John!” exclaimed Cirius cheerfully as the man on top lifted his fist and slammed it on the other’s face.
Devona stepped forward with his hands held out placatingly in front of himself.
“Alright, now, let’s calm-”
Devona was interrupted as he was talking by a fist swinging straight towards his face. As he reeled back, another hand was already closing over it and forcing the assailant down. Harlow stared down at the man they were forcing down with a singular hand, watching as his expression strained to continue to look defiant through the pain.
They pressed down further, causing the man’s expression to shift into pain as he hammered onto the floor with his free hand, hollering to let him go.
Devona gingerly placed his hand on their shoulder. “Hey, I think that’s enough now.”
Harlow raised an eyebrow at them. He tried to punch you.
“Well, he didn’t punch me.”
Harlow tilted their head but let go of the person, allowing him to run off with a bruised ego and most likely a bruised wrist. The other man got up and staggered away, the smell of alcohol fresh in the air. Devona let his hand drop as Harlow watched them go, wiping their hand upon their cloak.
After that, Cirius had thankfully used the money to get a proper apartment. Or rather, several proper apartments since he kept getting kicked out. And now he had found himself inside Devona’s new house. Devona sighed and rubbed his eyes to get rid of the tiredness, heading down the stairs to see what the commotion was all about. Cirius was sprawled upon the floor, his pillow several feet away, the couch he was staying on half tipped over and his blanket looking like it had been attacked by a savage animal.
He waved. “Hey bossman.”
Devona stared. “How.”
“Well, you see, I kinda woke up. And stuff was like this.”
Devona sighed and picked Cirius up. He held him like a cat, with his hands underneath the arms as Cirius’s legs dangled, and plopped him down onto the couch after pushing it down with his feet. He began to clean up the rest of the mess. Cirius shot to his feet instantly.
“I could-”
Devona waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s early, just try to get some more rest in. I’ll get another blanket.” He continued to clean up in silence, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He turned and Cirius was still sitting up, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“Well, if we’re not going to sleep again, why don’t we eat breakfast? I’ll get the cereal.”
They ate together in silence, letting the sound of chewing fill the air. As Devona was thinking about setting up a garden outside, Cirius spoke up.
“Sorry for the blanket. And for waking you up. And-“
Devona raised a hand. “I told you, it’s fine.” Internally, he frowned.
“Was Cirius still hung up about that?” He had noticed an uncanny silence, but he had drawn that up to tiredness. Speaking of, was Cirius even tired? Cirius had been wide awake every time Devona had gone to bed, and wide awake when Devona awoke. One time, Devona had walked blearily down the stairs to get a glass of water in the dead of night, and almost got a heart attack from Cirius suddenly talking.
“So, what’s the mission for today, bossman?” Cirius interrupted his train of thought, rocking on his chair and back to his usual bounciness.
“Well, if you read your email, you’d know,” Devona deadpanned before relenting. “It’s just an attendance to some event that acts as a cover for underground dealings. While Claren deals with negotiations, we mingle with the crowd unless Harlow needs some backup. They’ll be off stealing some documents.” He polished off the last of the cereal. “We should get some more rest before the mission. Don’t want to be too tired.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claren and Harlow were already there when Cirius and Devona arrived. They were all dressed in suits again, like they had been at that party months back. Claren took a few seconds to assess their outfits. Before the mission, Claren had talked with Devona, telling him that he would stand out too much. His height was the most obvious, but according to Claren his posture was ‘too subdued and open to pass as a crime lord’. Instead, Devona would be with Harlow, finding the documents, while Cirius would be a possible back-up to Claren. Really, it was because it was doubtful that he would be able to carry out a stealth mission.
Devona went over to greet Harlow. After exchanging conversation, he grabbed Harlow by the shoulder and the two of them vanished. Claren adjusted his suit, the light glinting off of the two rings on his fingers. “Well, you can go and mingle with the party. If I’m in trouble, try to cause a distraction.”
Cirius nodded thoughtfully. “Explosions?”
“Try to keep those to a minimum.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cirius was mingling, but he was not mingling happily. The people really did hold themselves in a different way than Devona did, with pushed up chests and little hand waves. Everyone who talked to him seemed to need to suddenly leave, so Cirius was currently standing by the food table chomping on dishes.
“Real boring party,” a voice drawled.
Cirius turned. He tilted his head and stopped biting down on the plate. Leaning up against the table with an easy casualness, dressed in a full tuxedo with bowtie and tailed coat, the speaker plucked a grape from the stem and popped it into her mouth. Her rainbow scarf swished as she swivelled her head to look down at him, and her mismatched eyes were lit with amusement. She seemed familiar, but Cirius couldn’t put his finger on why. “Wouldn’t you say so?”
Cirius thought about this. “Eh, it’s alright. I remember one time I blacked out at a party like this and woke up in a bathtub filled with ice.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re a pretty funny guy,” she snickered, waving a fork at him.
Her smile tapered into a grin, and her eyes narrowed. “But in my opinion, this party could really use some better entertainment.” She pulled a mask over her face - one of a white demon with small, pointed horns, and drew a glaive from her back. She threw it. The glaive soared through the air, and Cirius watched as it trailed dried intestines through the air before embedding itself deep inside the chest of one of the guests. Screams tore through the air and Cirius remembered that murder was not good.
“Claren, there’s been a murder! That’s not good!” he yelled, his voice drowned out by the din of panic and magic. The woman dodged past beams of energy and fire, grabbing onto the handle of the glaive and swinging it in a wide arc around her, carving into anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. Claren burst out from the room, his eyes narrowing and shield wrapping around him as soon as he realised the situation. He pressed up against the wall and then shot forward, like a rubber ball that had suddenly been decompressed. The woman’s cackling was interrupted as he slammed into her full force, sending the both of them crashing across the floor.
“Laurel Pariah. I didn’t expect you to show your face again so soon.” Cirius was close enough to hear them, and it helped that everybody had either ran away or died.
“So, my reputation precedes me,” Laurel responded brightly, kicking Claren off and swinging her glaive right at him. He raised his arm and it glanced off the glimmering shield, giving him an opportunity to land a blow at her gut. She stumbled back and he struck her across the head as she was darting backwards. Her glaive sliced through the air but ricocheted off of Claren’s shield, and he grabbed the bladed end to bring Laurel in closer. She kicked at him, causing her leg to bounce back and almost knock her over, only being held above ground by an uppercut directly into her stomach. She managed to stagger backwards, coughing.
“Wow, you really don’t play around do you?” she wheezed. “I didn’t expect to use my magic so soon, but I guess it can’t be helped.”
Claren moved back, tilting his head towards Cirius. “Go herd the people outside to safety. I’ll deal with her.” Cirius flashed him a thumbs up and headed in the direction of panicked shouts. Claren’s eyes scoured the room, as if looking for whatever Laurel may use against him. Speaking of Laurel, something strange appeared to be happening to her. Her skin seemed pale, almost bright. No, definitely bright - glowing, in fact. Before Claren could register it fully however, Laurel pivoted with a kick and sent a bolt of lightning slamming into him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The two of them had gotten past security with ease, Devona stealing documents from right under noses and Harlow repeating the pattern of fingerprints upon keyboards. The two of them were currently sitting upon beams, dangling their legs high above the ground.
Just a few more, and we’ll be out of here soon.
Devona tilted his head to the side. “These people really love to party, huh.”
Harlow chewed their cheek. Well, it’s sort of a coping mechanism. Unlike the more recent sorcerers like you and I, these people grew up in a society wholly made from those who possess magic. There’s a certain sense of… superiority within those places. To them, death was less of a constant presence. That was until the Scourges came. Suddenly humans, magic or not, were all pushed down a level on the food chain. That sudden shock of mortality, paired with the changing landscape of the world, is certain to cause some stress. They leaned backwards on their hands. Not to mention, it’s a pretty good cover for criminal activity.
Devona hummed. “Yeah, the world's a chaotic place.” He bowed his head slightly. “Do you think we can win? Against the Scourges, that is.”
Their tongue traced the inside of their mouth as they mulled, an action mirrored from others despite their mouth never being used to talk. It’s unclear. We don’t even know where the Scourges are coming from or what they are. There could be only a small handful left in the world, or there could be legions waiting to invade. We manage to push them back, but not without loss. The Scourge at Scotland was one of the weaker ones. The teleporting Scourge was one of the less destructive ones. And yet they managed to cause so much devastation. They tilted their head to meet his gaze. But I think we’ll win.
Devona smiled. “I hope so.”
How’s it going with Cirius at your place, by the way?
Devona scrunched up his forehead as memories came flooding in. “Well, he doesn’t eat unless I make him. Or really visit the bathroom since he doesn’t eat. I don’t even think he sleeps, at least not most of the time. I’ve also never seen him change his clothes. He seems weirdly nervous at times though. He’s probably destroyed like five of my blankets by now. He keeps giving me heart attacks at night by scurrying around the house. He tried to cook once and blew up the entire kitchen. I’m not even exaggerating, he had third degree burns all over his skin. Took me ages to patch him up, especially with him refusing to remove his clothing.” Devona sighed and noticed Harlow’s expression. They had a bemused expression on their face. “What is it?” You’re quite an attentive person, that’s all. They turned their gaze elsewhere. The last of the physical documents should be three doors down on the rightmost corridor.
“What will you be doing?”
Attending to my own business. I’ll meet you afterwards.
Devona nodded and vanished, leaving Harlow alone underneath the clouded sky.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The hierarchy of the world was simple. At the bottom were the plants, the insects, the ones who barely fed themselves and were gorged upon or crushed by a wayward hand. On top, edging them out were the small predators, the mice and shrews of the world. And above them this and this and that until up on top the world, the pinnacle of power, was humanity. Of course, there was division within humanity. Some believed it to be race, or gender, or sexuality, or any other sort of arbitrary difference they’d use to hold a sense of superiority over others. But the true division, the fissure that stretched across like the mouth of a god, was magic.
Opal Pact was currently walking upon the tightrope across that fissure. To live in a world of magic without any of your own was common, given how billions of people did it, but to know about magic and to live in its world was less so. Of course, it was a lot less dramatic than her mini-monologues in her head, like the one about hierarchies, had made it seem. Most would expect fabulous displays of power, magic that could bend and buckle nations. Instead, they got people who could throw fancy balls that were basically slower, less effective bullets, or throw fireballs which were once again slower, less effective bullets, or become pinnacles of physical brawn who were immune to bullets and who were as susceptible to chemical warfare as anybody else. Even the ones who held incredible power weren’t immune to a knife in their neck in the dead of night. The point was, Opal was less of walking upon a tightrope and more of peering into a secret party and inviting herself in. Besides, if those unedited videos of cities’ destruction were anything to go buy, humans weren’t the top of the food-chain anymore, magic or not.
She whistled to herself, the tune of some forgotten song as she twirled a crowbar between her fingers. She knocked on the door to the security room and then smashed it open, interrupting the guard who was in the middle of trying to figure out why several of the cameras had stopped working. The smashing of the crowbar into his face sent several of his teeth scattering, and he collapsed onto his desk. He’d be fine, probably. Opal mentally shrugged with that thought and pushed him off the wheely chair, letting him flop onto the floor as she took a seat. She grabbed a can of oil from her bag and poured it out the door, letting it run down across the hallway. The tinted plastic she’d stuck to the lights before she’d made her entrance were just yellow enough that anyone who came rushing in wouldn’t have time to notice the oil until it was too late.
Opal slammed the door as shut as she could, kicking her feet onto the table and popping a piece of gum into her mouth. She chewed, letting the sugar flare upon her tongue as her fingers ran across the keyboard. There was a sound of people yelling, then the sound of bodies slamming against the wall and floor. She stretched her arms behind her head, kicking off of the desk to avoid the blast of energy that ripped right through the door. It was shoved open and Opal pushed off the wall towards the attacker, pulling out her taser and jabbing it into his stomach. He staggered and then slipped, falling chin-first onto the floor. She stepped off of the chair and kicked it, sending it bouncing around and knocking down the few guards who managed to remain standing. She slid across the floor, using the slickness to her advantage to weave past grasping hands and past the oil. Grabbing a matchbox from her hand, she struck a match and held it loftily between the fingers. The effect was immediate, with all the guards scrambling across the floors on either all fours or trying their best to stand up. She tossed the match to the oil-slicken ground and slid into the next room. The oil wasn’t flammable.
The oil eventually rubbed off from the friction, leaving Opal to walk along the floor. She eventually found what she came for. She smashed the lock off of the door, the alarm already having been disabled by her in the security room. She popped her bubble of gum and pushed the door open. Standing in the room, looking incredibly confused, was an incredibly tall man. He stared at her, the documents on the desk in front of him. She stared at him. He stared at her. She grabbed the tablecloth and threw it over his head, snatching up the documents as he stumbled back.
Opal dove out the door before the man could get his bearings, skidding across the floor and breaking into a sprint. She pulled out a bag of marbles and tossed it behind her, spilling the contents all across the floor. She used the crowbar to jam the door behind her shut, running past the winding hallways. The exit wasn’t far, and soon she’d be able to hop on her motorcycle and be scot free.
She wheeled around the corner and almost collided into a group of sorcerers. She could tell they were sorcerers since they immediately threw blasts of energy her way as she ducked behind the wall. One of them charged forward and punched the wall where her head had been. He lifted his arm to strike again and then vanished.
“Huh?” The other sorcerers seemed equally confused. Something appeared from nowhere and smacked into the face of one, leaving the last to look around panickedly before the frying pan knocked him out. The man from before appeared out of thin air, looking much more annoyed than he had before. He waved his pan at her face.
“Alright, who the hell are you?”
“Invisibility, probably. Strong as well if he managed to bypass the crowbar so easily, or crafty if he found another way to track me,” her mind supplied.
Opal rooted around for her spray-can. “Who am I? Oh, no-one really. Just a gal trying to make her way in the world.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “Would you be willing to hand over the documents?”
Opal pressed her thumb and index to her chin. “Eh, probably not.”
He sighed. He vanished right as Opal lifted her spray can and sent a blast of black into his face. She broke into a sprint, shoving the documents into her pocket as she continued to dash.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Being short certainly had its shortcomings. Cirius couldn’t shout louder than the clamour, so he climbed onto whatever surface he could find and grabbed onto a plate and a fork. He scraped the prongs along the ceramic and the screech was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention.
“Alright, alright, listen up! I’ve been told to get you guys out of here, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
The people still seemed panicked and extremely suspicious. One of them aimed a hand full of fire at him. “Who the hell are you? And why should we listen to you?”
“You guys are running around too much! Look, that guy has other people standing on top of him!”
“Help.”
“In an emergency situation, it’s always good to have someone to direct everyone else. People tend to panic and move erratically, so having a leader allows the people to calm themselves down and move in a controlled manner, minimising the risk to themselves and each other,” Cirius recited. He felt a dash of smugness for remembering the entire thing.
The people did not seem very impressed. They stared up at him with confused and vaguely disgusted expressions.
“Anyways, the point is, we’re going to leave now.”
“What about the people back there!” one person exclaimed. “I have a husband who’s possibly dying right now!”
Cirius frowned. “What did he look like?” “He had- he has blonde hair, is wearing a suit with a blue tie-”
“Oh, I think I saw who you’re talking about!”
“Really? Was he alright?”
Cirius scratched his head. “Uh, well, if he can survive without his head on then he should be good.”
“What the hell is wrong with you!”
“Come on, man!” “Why would you say that?”
Exclamations and cries of dismay rose up from the crowd and suddenly everyone was yelling at him.They started to throw plates and utensils at him, throwing insults along with them.
“Alright, alright, let’s just calm down,” he tried to say over the clamour. A plate smacked onto his head and dazed him for a second. Frustration bubbled in his chest as the people kept on yelling and yelling and the noise built up and up until the frustration melded into anger and burst from him.
“Shut up! Shut up, all of you!” he yelled, his own voice barely rising above the chaos. He grabbed a plate of his own and threw it into the crowd. “I’m trying to save your goddamn lives you idiots!”
Something bright came flying at him and he felt his body light ablaze, the fire rapidly spreading over his clothes and flesh. A silence fell over the crowd, their expressions now of shock and bewilderment rather than outrage. He moved his head towards the one who threw the fireball, the slight movement drawing gasps from the people around him. He jumped down from the table and walked towards the attacker, everyone else clearing a wide berth around him. He dug his fingernails into his bubbling flesh, tearing deep and causing blood to spill out, dampening the flames with a hiss. Blood dripped onto the floor as he flexed his hand before pulling his arm back and punching the elemental in the face. His hand practically exploded, spraying gore and viscera all over the man’s features. He fell to the floor with a horrified scream, too distracted to notice Cirius lifting a chair until it was already coming down on his head. Cirius patted down his body, ripping away at skin where the fire refused to die out. He turned to the crowd - or at least, the blurry outline of the crowd.
“So, are we ready to go now?” he asked brightly. He lifted his hand to scratch at his face and felt bone. The crowd nodded, subdued. “Pick that guy up, by the way.” He turned to the exit and they all followed suit.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Devona was not having a good time. He’d managed to avoid most of the spray, but he’d needed to wipe away at his eyes before they stung too much. He floated past the groaning guards on the oil-slick floor, up the stairs to the upper floors. Marbles were strewn across the ground, and one man was rolling around while clutching his spray-painted eyes. The window on the far end was smashed open despite the latch being unlocked. Peeking his head around, he could see the perpetrator running along the rooftop, sticking her tongue out at the people on the ground. She grabbed an egg from her pocket and slung it at the head of one, exploding it all over his face as he tried to grab his gun.
She ducked down and slid along the tiles as bullets fired above her head, grabbing the side and swinging down into the window. A few seconds later, a chair was flung out and slammed into the remaining guards. A guard rushed up to the window next to Devona, pulling out a machine gun. Devona wasn’t a fan of excessive violence against his enemies, so he introduced his face to a frying pan. At the same time, the thief, as Devona had dubbed her, was thrown from the window. She managed to grab onto the curtain and ripped it as she slid down the wall, landing with a thud onto the ground. Standing there in the doorframe, holding onto ruffled documents as air swirled was a guard, more filing around her with magic swirling in the air.
Devona felt movement behind him and phased out, dodging the blast of energy that would have taken off his head. He grabbed the guard and phased them out with him, using their newfound weightlessness to throw them as hard. All eyes snapped to the man as he flew through the air, giving Devona enough time to swoop down and phase out the thief.
He dropped the two of them on the roof of the building overlooking the guards as they looked around in surprise. The thief immediately got to talking.
“So, you can phase out, huh? I thought you might have been a Neoteric, seeing as you look less out-of-touch than a lot of other sorcerers. Do you have a cool name for your discipline?”
Devona glanced at her. “It’s incorporealism.”
She rolled her eyes. “Bo-ring. You develop a whole branch of magic and you give it some lame name like that?”
“It’s not- whatever.”
She sighed and rolled her shoulders. “Why don’t we make a truce?” she said suddenly. “Just until we get the documents. Especially since they see us now.”
Devona looked down just in time to weave to the side and let the lightning pass by him. There was a woosh of air and all the guards were upon the roof, one of them still holding the documents in her hand.
A gust of air, a blast, and several bullets connected with nothing as Devona vanished. He grabbed one guard and threw them off, lashing out with only his foot physical and kicked another guard right in the stomach. Weave, dodge, strike, move back, more forward. The movements weren’t as fluid as they could have been, and he winced from a graze across his arm, but it wasn’t long before he and the thief were the only people still standing upon the roof.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Wow. Not bad. You’re quite the combatant.”
Devona started looking around for where the documents had fallen, turning his back to her. “Thanks.”
“What’s your name by the way?”
He lifted up one of the unconscious bodies. “It’s Devona. Yours?”
“Bergeron.” A strange name, but Devona wasn’t one to judge. “Say, I’ve just to ask, why did you save me back there?”
Devona frowned. “Is it not enough to not want to see another person die?”
She hummed. There was a bit of movement from behind him, and Devona phased out as a taser struck where he had just been. He phased back in, lashing out with a pivot and kick that slammed into her gut. He grabbed his pan and swung it at her head, clipping only her hair as she ducked down and he withdrew his body as she jabbed with her taser again. He slammed his pan onto her arm before she could reel it back in. Her taser dropped and Devona managed to strike her across the head, sending her stumbling back. She clutched his arm as if it was broken and Devona faltered slightly, just long enough for her to lash out with another hidden taser and hit him right in the gut. She grabbed onto her crowbar and smashed it against his head, with him managing to only slightly dodge the impact. He phased out again and grabbed her by the arm, throwing her against the wall. He stumbled, his vision turning white as rivulets of blood ran down his nose. Before he could recover he felt the crowbar slam into his hip and his legs buckled. The cool metal of the taser pressed into his back and jolts ran through his body.
2023.05.28 16:39 Smirnoff_Ice_King This sub has lost it’s mind.
 | submitted by Smirnoff_Ice_King to Destiny [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 16:39 girl_from_the_crypt Stuck on earth and looking for a job: So this is what government work is like...
My savior human is distraught. I alone would have trouble enough coping with Kit Sutton's absence, but with Nettie Peterson's grief added to mine, it's been impossible to go about my day with any semblance of serenity.
It's quite simple; when Nettie's unhappy, I cannot be content. She finally let me visit her earlier today. That doesn’t mean her overall state has improved, though. We went to talk in the garden, only there wasn’t much talking involved—she merely sat in her mother’s chair, staring blankly at the storm-tossed flower chaos.
“Didn’t you want to fix your plants back up?” I inquired.
“M-hm,” she muttered.
“It’d be a shame if your pretty garden was gonna stay like this.”
“M-hm.”
“If you need help, you let me know, okay?”
“M-hm.”
“I won’t try to eat the geraniums again.”
“M-hm.”
I leaned forward to try and catch her deep brown gaze. “Nettie, please say something. I thought we wanted to share our feelings more.”
“There’s nothing to share,” my savior human answered, her voice dry and monotone. “Kit’s not here anymore.”
“Yes, and I’m upset, too. But either I’m a horribly poor judge of human behavior or there's more to this.” I tilted my head at her. “I’ve never seen you this way. You said you didn’t always want a solution to your problems, and I’d be happy to just sit and listen as well, but you’re not talking either.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Clearly not.”
Nettie let go of a soft breath. “I didn’t wanna tell you. Not until… It’s just that in the last couple days, Kit and I were getting kind of…” She faltered and trailed off.
“Kind of what?” I prompted.
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Please try, if you can. I want to understand.”
My best friend refused to meet my gaze. “See, that’s what I envy you for sometimes. You have an outsider’s perspective. You only see what’s in front of you and you don’t concern yourself with the rest.”
“I am concerned! I’m really concerned about you right now. You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like my caretaker, but I wanna be here for you now. Please. Let me.”
“I… I know, that’s not what I was saying…” She adjusted her bra strap, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder as though she was hugging herself. “If there was something I’d kept secret from you—nothing bad, just something personal—would you be mad at me?”
“I can’t even imagine being mad at you,” I replied.
"That's good to know," she murmured, finally lifting her head to meet my gaze. "It doesn't change things for now, but it's… good to know."
After that, she fell silent again, and I left not much later. I was setting out for a pretty gloomy rest of the day when Frankie Preston texted me, asking to come hang out at the hotel. I've only stayed at a hotel twice, when Nettie took me on vacation with her. The first time was to Croatia, the other to the south of France. My savior human speaks fluent French.
Anyways, I was glad to follow up on the server's invitation. I won't describe the exact location of the hotel he'd chosen, but it was a fairly nice place. I took Kit Sutton's car there, which definitely gave me a weird feeling. In a way, it was nice. It felt like her. The worn seats, the ancient scent tree, the assortment of guitar picks in the cup holder. The empty takeout bag lying in the footwell. When I pulled up to the hotel parking lot, I was almost reluctant to get out. When I eventually did and entered the lobby, I found that I didn't quite know where to go. I opted to simply walk up to the front desk. There was a man sitting behind it, but he didn't look up from his computer screen upon my approach.
"Mm-yes?" he muttered, and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me.
"Hi," I began.
Something about my voice must have caught his attention, as he abruptly lifted his head to meet my gaze. "Hi," he echoed, a smile forming on his face. I couldn't help but take note of the silvery gleam of his blond hair. It was long and wavy, tied back behind his head. I wondered how it felt. "And you are…?" he prompted, taking me in.
"Sunshine," a voice rang out from behind me. I whirled around, giving Fran a bright smile which, to my delight, he reciprocated. "You have no idea the kind of acquaintance you just made."
I glanced between the two in confusion. The receptionist spoke up first. "Oh. Oh, I see! This is her, isn't it?"
"Yes. Eva, this is… one of the many banes of my existence. He's my younger brother, but only in the most remote sense of the word, I assure you." The waiter gave the receptionist a look that was somewhere between contemptuous fondness and pure contempt.
The other man grinned. "Oh Frankie, my Frankie, you are just the most bitter piece of work there is."
"Younger? You look far older than Frank," I remarked.
"Ouch. But what are looks, really?" He waved me off. "And what is age with creatures like us? Frankie tells everyone he's twenty-two, I say I'm twenty-seven. We just made up these numbers to match our faces. He's existed for way longer, though. That's probably why he's so miserable." He leaned forward, twinkling at me. "Me, I see the world through fresher eyes."
I didn't quite know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Frankie, won't you introduce me?"
The waiter sighed deeply. "This is… Zion. Zion Boyd. I told him it's a perfectly silly name, but he wouldn't listen. I'm glad Rhonda picked mine for me."
Zion Boyd laughed quietly. "You're an asshole."
"You're an idiot."
"You wanted to hang out?" I reminded Fran.
"Right!" He grabbed my wrist and began steering me towards the winding flight of stairs in the back of the hall. "Ignore him. Forget him entirely, if possible. You're not missing out.”
He brought me up to his suite, a pleasantly large, open space. The tall windows let in the light of the setting sun, painting blushing hues upon the wallpaper. I sat down on the living room couch, switching on the TV not because I was in the mood to watch anything but rather for the background noise. Frankie joined me after a second, placing before me a glass of cold coconut water as he regarded me through thick lashes. "You got something on your mind, don’t you?”
"Your brother."
"Aw crap. That smarmy, handsome piece of shit…" Fran clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. "I knew this would happen."
"What? No. I was wondering about what he said," I clarified, shifting uneasily in my seat.
His hands stilled. "Oh." He smiled brightly. "Do tell."
"He called you creatures. And there was something else in there about your ages."
"So? What do you think? Any grand theories?"
I shrugged. "I could probably try to piece things together. But I'd rather hear it from you."
"Ah, would you. Well, I'm sorry, Sunshine, but it doesn't work like that."
"Don't you think I need to know?"
He reached out to poke my sternum with his finger. "No. I give you everything you need. When I decide you need more information, I'll give that to you, too."
I frowned at him, but hadn't yet regained the ability to speak when my phone rang. I reluctantly fumbled it out. It was an unknown number, but I recognized the voice that greeted me from the other end. “Mary Markov?”
“Miss Shirley! Nice talking to you again.”
“To be honest, this is a bad time…”
“That’s of no relevance. Remember when I told you I might get back to you?”
“Yes.” I exchanged meaningful looks with Frankie, who rolled his eyes. He scooted closer to me and pressed his cheek up to mine to listen to the phone call. His skin was almost unnaturally smooth. I swallowed thickly when I felt his jaw working on his bubble gum, moving against mine.
"Miss Shirley?" Mary Markov asked. "Are you still there?"
"Did you say something?"
A sigh. "Look. You want money, I want your help. Come to the address I’m sending you now. It’s a big parking lot by a hiking trail in the woods. I have business there, and I could use the extra manpower.”
“Right now? I’m kind of on a…”
“You can bring the misanthropist with you.”
“What’s a misanthropist?” I inquired.
“She means me,” Fran supplied.
"She does," Miss Markov confirmed.
"We're coming." I ended the call, turning to Frankie. "That's okay, right? Are you with me?"
"Sure. Money's important. It'll be better if you have your own so I won't have to give you mine." He got up to collect our jackets. "At least this way, you won't get stabbed for it."
We took Kit's car over to the meet-up spot. Mary Markov was waiting for us beside a black pickup truck that seemed rather ill-suited for her. She was wearing a blazer, suit pants and dress shoes that were somehow pristine despite the muddy ground.
"There you are," she said, her tone crisp. Pointing her chin at the woods behind her, she added, "I hope you're ready for a bit of a hike."
"What do you need me for?" I asked.
"The Collective you came into contact with. We have reason to believe that they are meeting up here, among other places. There are probably hideouts to be found, and other things, too."
"Like what?" Fran raised a skeptical brow.
"The objects you were hired to guard. They're important; we don't rightly know what they are but they're constantly being kept on the move. There's no doubt the Collective wants them to remain obscure, and they're being clever about it."
"And you're hoping we'll go in there unprepared and just stumble across them?" the waiter inquired.
"Not exactly. There's a particular member of the cult we've managed to keep our eye on, and we followed her here. She's with at least two others, so we believe they're up to something important," Mary Markov explained. "Go in and find them. When you do, stay low and observe. I'll stay here. If anything goes wrong, call me and I will send for reinforcement."
"Why don't you let your agents go in? Why pull Eva into this? Again?"
"Frankie, I'm fine," I assured him, taking a step towards the newsreader. "What do I get paid?"
"You won't be disappointed in the money," she promised, smiling thinly. "To answer your friend's legitimate question—," she glanced over at Frank Preston as though she didn't consider his query legitimate at all, "—you are quite handy. Normally, when humans have to defend themselves and it comes to an altercation, there's… screams. Blood. Gunshots. Bullets are costly. Personnel even more so. When our agents get hurt, it might take months for them to recover. You don't need that kind of time. You're altogether less likely to be injured fatally. Employing you might end up saving us some lives and we'll be sure to make it worth your while."
That's, in short, why I found myself trudging through the mud and brushes alongside a very grudging Frank Preston that night. The storm had taken its toll in the woods, too—our chaotic surroundings reminded me of a larger-scale version of Nettie's garden. Trees had been uprooted and were lying dead in our path like organic roadblocks. The ground was covered with broken branches, twigs and young leaves. The wet soil squashed beneath our shoes every step of the way. With nightfall approaching, there was not much light reaching the forest floor. This certainly protected us from visibility, but it came at the price of my vision. I couldn't really see what was beneath me, so I kept tripping and staggering.
Frankie was somehow as graceful as ever, unbothered as he stepped over roots and rocks as if he could sense them before placing his feet. He was much quieter than me, but he thankfully wasn't smug about it. He kept one hand steady on my shoulder, aptly guiding me away from obstacles and protrusions. After a while, this began to work very well, and I became less noisy the deeper we proceeded into the woods. The server’s grip suddenly turned painfully tight, stopping me in my tracks. I realized why when I caught a glimpse of brightness not too far ahead. My chest tightened when I spotted the beam of a flashlight traveling the forest floor.
“Hush,” Frankie murmured into my ear. “Don’t. Move.”
I stood stock-still, trusting the fingers still digging into my skin.
The light passed over us, nearly reaching us but not quite. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, which died in my throat when a familiar voice carried over to us on the breeze.
“Hurry up already, would you?”
“Don’t… don’t stress me. Why aren’t you helping?” a young woman replied.
“Because it’s your fucking job.”
I felt myself break into a cold sweat. My heart was thumping so fiercely it was beginning to hurt; my pulse racing. Breaking from my rigor, I leaned over to whisper to Frankie. “That’s them.”
“What?”
“The one who stabbed me.”
Fran’s hand disappeared from my shoulder, moving down to quickly grasp mine. The pair before us was still on the move, the light of their torch slowly fading into the distance. “Listen to me,” my partner proceeded to hiss into my ear. “There’s two of them and two of us, but technically it’ll just be you. I’m not gonna leave you on your own, but the most I can do is hold one of them down.”
“But you’re strong…”
“I can’t actually hurt anybody. I gladly would, but it’s literally physically impossible for me. Do you still want to follow them?”
I paused. I didn’t want to. In fact, every fiber of my being was yelling at me to run, to get out of those woods, and yet… “We have to.”
A sigh. “I really feel like I ought to talk you out of this.”
“Don’t.”
“If things get dire, I’ll grab you and bail.”
“I’ll allow it. I’m still doing this.”
“Guess I was wrong. You might get stabbed for your pay this time around, too.”
“This is bigger than just money, Fran.”
His hand wandered back to my shoulder, nudging me forward. “I know. You want to tear this creep apart.”
I paused. “If Markov asks, we didn’t plan on it.”
“Finally, some murderous tendencies in that sunny mind of yours.” The cheer in Frankie’s voice was only a little forced.
I steeled myself as we took up walking once more. Soon enough, we caught up with the two cultists, trailing behind them at a safe distance. I could hear the faint scraping of a wheelbarrow on the uneven ground. The eerie creaking noise was enough to speed up my heartrate once more. Frankie’s words still echoing through my mind, my thoughts were racing. A part of me was convinced I was making a terrible mistake, but there was something driving me on. Whether it was curiosity, an underlying thirst for revenge or illusions of grandeur, I’ll never know. Yet forwards I went. Abruptly, the pair stopped, the wheelbarrow grating to a halt. Frankie instantly dragged me down to hide behind a dead, uprooted tree, and not one second too soon.
The beam of the flashlight roamed the underbrush, its owners remaining blissfully unaware of our presence. “Here we are,” the person who’d attacked me spoke up again.
“Woah,” the woman pushing the cart answered eloquently. Whatever they were looking at was undoubtedly rather impressive.
“You’ve never been here before, have you?”
“No… Does it go as deep as they say?”
“Deeper. It’s a whole-ass tunnel system down there. We’ve spent years prepping for this, remember?”
“Okay. Whew. Well then, off we go. Can you help me lift him up, at least?”
The other person groaned. “Fine.”
Frankie Preston had grabbed my arm. The distant shine from the cultists’ torch bathed him in an almost unearthly glow. He was cowering beside me with tense shoulders, his face a cold, concentrated mask. He wasn’t even chewing on his gum anymore. His wired posture reminded me of a lurking wildcat in a nature documentary. When he turned to look at me, I could almost tell what he was thinking.
Whatever these two had come here to do, it was happening now, meaning that this was our last chance to intervene.
Trying to free my mind from all thoughts of flight, I rose to my feet. Step by step, I made my way out of our hiding spot, instantly drawing the pair’s attention. Two heads whipped around to face me. The flashlight dropped and rolled a little ways across the ground, its wide beam illuminating the small clearing and revealing the reason for the cultists’ venture. There was a dark hole in the ground at our feet, the opening reminiscent of a gaping, toothless maw. My gaze wandered over to the pushcart. Its bulky contents were covered by a large, green tarp. The tall, lanky person slowly raised their hands to their hips, uttering a low, mildly surprised “huh”. The woman, who was stockier and far shorter in stature than them, stood frozen in shock. The eyes that stared at me from behind her black mask were blown wide.
“Hey you,” the tall one said. “I had a feeling we’d meet again soon.”
I didn’t respond. My stomach suddenly burned with a phantom pain. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the person’s gloved hands, trying not to jump when their fingers twitched into the direction of their pocket. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I reached up to unzip my jacket. As it fell to the ground, I felt my tentacles pierce my skin. Simultaneously, my teeth began to elongate, curving outward as they uncomfortably stretched out my gums.
“I had a feeling something like this was gonna happen, too,” my former assailant added, tilting their head at me. “I do love being right.”
The woman, who had been stunned speechless up to that point, let out an ear-shattering scream, but before anything coherent could emerge from her throat, the other person had spun around and struck her square across the face. The blow had come with such force that she crumbled immediately, her shriek dying in a strangled whimper before she hit the ground unconscious. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My mind was spinning, but I forced my eyes to remain hard, praying that my large fangs were twisting my face enough to veil my terror. I lifted myself over the fallen tree, partly employing my extra limbs. The cultist didn’t shrink away, instead taking a large step towards me. Before I knew it, the surface of their mask was scraping against my teeth. Too startled to move, I held their gaze for several seconds. Up close, I could see the only part of them that wasn’t obscured.
There was something very, very wrong with their eyes.
At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it. Their iris was of a pale, watery color that could not quite be defined as blue. Their surreal milky sheen was enough to send a chill up my spine. And then I realized it. There were only the irises. That black dot that all humans and most other known lifeforms typically have in their eyes, the pupil, it simply wasn’t there.
I stood rooted to the ground, staring into the stranger’s eyes. I thought I could see different colors swirling around in those not-quite-blue orbs. I was abruptly noticing a sudden inability to move on my part. I wanted to lift my arm and shove the cultist away, I wanted to unhinge my jaw and sink my teeth into their flesh, but I couldn’t. I was distantly aware of the heavy rising and falling of my chest, of my heart thundering in my ribcage, but it didn’t feel real somehow. Nothing felt real anymore. The world had turned iridescently turquoise and violent, flashing lights dotting my vision as my breathing grew quicker.
Somewhere in the back of my head, the last waking part of me was screaming.
And then, all of a sudden, everything turned dark again. I blinked furiously, trying to orient myself as the outlines of trees and bushes swam into focus again. The sweet smell of pine needles and damp soil hit me as I emerged from the hypnotic half-slumber. Before me, ramrod straight, stood Frankie Preston, and somehow, the sight of him had triggered the flight instinct in the cultist I had failed to provoke. Our eye contact broken, they staggered back, just as Fran stepped aside. This time, I didn’t throw away my shot. I threw myself at the stranger, lunging forward with my teeth bared. They dodged me by a hair’s breadth, bolting towards the manhole and, within a split second, they had disappeared down the pitch-black shaft. No sound of impact met our pricked ears.
Frankie wordlessly took out his phone, proceeding to place the call to Mary Markov. He walked over to me as they talked, grabbing my hand with his free one and pumping it almost rhythmically like he was trying an unconventional method of resuscitation. His voice and that of the newsreader on the other end sounded strangely far away. After hanging up, he hastily typed something before finally shoving the device back into his pocket. With an almost methodical precision, he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up, holding me close to his chest. My tentacles were hanging limply from my back as my teeth slowly began to reassume their normal size and length. Entangling my trembling fingers in his curls, I must have looked absolutely pitiful. The server sat down on the fallen tree, his grip on me unfaltering as I adjusted to sit on his lap, feeling myself unwind.
We remained like this, not speaking, until we heard steps draw closer. Mary Markov and two of her agents were walking towards us at a speedy pace, the newsreader crouching down in front of us while the two men immediately took to the unconscious female cultist.
“You were in here for quite a while,” she began, her voice drifting in and out of my ears while Frankie’s soothing touch curled around the edge of my senses. “I had a feeling something had gone wrong, so I’d already sent for backup. Good thing, too, I guess.” Her voice held a barely hidden note of accusation.
“Leave her be. She’s obviously in no condition to speak,” the waiter growled.
I would have confirmed this, but I was in no condition to speak.
Mary sighed. “Nevermind then, we’ll discuss this later. For now, let’s check what they were transporting.”
I patted Fran on the back to alert him.
“Feeling curious? Even after all of this?”
I nodded into his nape.
A grunt. “Well, fine. Not like this could have gone any worse, huh.” He stood up and walked us over to the wheelbarrow, closely followed by Mary. The newsreader inspected the tarp, then grabbed one corner and flung it off the cart. A sharp gasp escaped her and I craned my neck to look. Frankie instantly turned around, trying to avert my eyes from the sight that had just been revealed to us, but it was too late. I had already seen the contents. The headless body lying folded in the barrow.
A human with their head removed doesn't look entirely human anymore. I could tell from the stature that it was a male body, but its condition made him feel less like a person. I couldn't help drawing this distinction, even though it made my stomach turn. Rigor mortis having washed over the carcass, he was in a bent, twisted position that would have been painful to anyone still alive. One of his arms, freed from the tarp, was dangling loosely over the side of the cart. One of Mary’s agents gagged and covered his mouth. I shot him a sympathetic glance, though I don’t think he caught it. I was too tired to scream or throw up. Thus quenching any visceral reaction to the gruesome sight, I buried my face in Fran’s shirt once more, closing my eyes.
X
1
2: deadbeat roommate
3: creepy crush
4: relocation
5: beach concert
6: First date
7: Temp work
8: roommate talk
9: a dismal worldview
10: warehouse
11: staircase
12: explanation
13: hurt
14: hospital
15: ocean
16: diner
submitted by girl_from_the_crypt to nosleep [link] [comments]
It's quite simple; when Nettie's unhappy, I cannot be content. She finally let me visit her earlier today. That doesn’t mean her overall state has improved, though. We went to talk in the garden, only there wasn’t much talking involved—she merely sat in her mother’s chair, staring blankly at the storm-tossed flower chaos.
“Didn’t you want to fix your plants back up?” I inquired.
“M-hm,” she muttered.
“It’d be a shame if your pretty garden was gonna stay like this.”
“M-hm.”
“If you need help, you let me know, okay?”
“M-hm.”
“I won’t try to eat the geraniums again.”
“M-hm.”
I leaned forward to try and catch her deep brown gaze. “Nettie, please say something. I thought we wanted to share our feelings more.”
“There’s nothing to share,” my savior human answered, her voice dry and monotone. “Kit’s not here anymore.”
“Yes, and I’m upset, too. But either I’m a horribly poor judge of human behavior or there's more to this.” I tilted my head at her. “I’ve never seen you this way. You said you didn’t always want a solution to your problems, and I’d be happy to just sit and listen as well, but you’re not talking either.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Clearly not.”
Nettie let go of a soft breath. “I didn’t wanna tell you. Not until… It’s just that in the last couple days, Kit and I were getting kind of…” She faltered and trailed off.
“Kind of what?” I prompted.
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Please try, if you can. I want to understand.”
My best friend refused to meet my gaze. “See, that’s what I envy you for sometimes. You have an outsider’s perspective. You only see what’s in front of you and you don’t concern yourself with the rest.”
“I am concerned! I’m really concerned about you right now. You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like my caretaker, but I wanna be here for you now. Please. Let me.”
“I… I know, that’s not what I was saying…” She adjusted her bra strap, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder as though she was hugging herself. “If there was something I’d kept secret from you—nothing bad, just something personal—would you be mad at me?”
“I can’t even imagine being mad at you,” I replied.
"That's good to know," she murmured, finally lifting her head to meet my gaze. "It doesn't change things for now, but it's… good to know."
After that, she fell silent again, and I left not much later. I was setting out for a pretty gloomy rest of the day when Frankie Preston texted me, asking to come hang out at the hotel. I've only stayed at a hotel twice, when Nettie took me on vacation with her. The first time was to Croatia, the other to the south of France. My savior human speaks fluent French.
Anyways, I was glad to follow up on the server's invitation. I won't describe the exact location of the hotel he'd chosen, but it was a fairly nice place. I took Kit Sutton's car there, which definitely gave me a weird feeling. In a way, it was nice. It felt like her. The worn seats, the ancient scent tree, the assortment of guitar picks in the cup holder. The empty takeout bag lying in the footwell. When I pulled up to the hotel parking lot, I was almost reluctant to get out. When I eventually did and entered the lobby, I found that I didn't quite know where to go. I opted to simply walk up to the front desk. There was a man sitting behind it, but he didn't look up from his computer screen upon my approach.
"Mm-yes?" he muttered, and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me.
"Hi," I began.
Something about my voice must have caught his attention, as he abruptly lifted his head to meet my gaze. "Hi," he echoed, a smile forming on his face. I couldn't help but take note of the silvery gleam of his blond hair. It was long and wavy, tied back behind his head. I wondered how it felt. "And you are…?" he prompted, taking me in.
"Sunshine," a voice rang out from behind me. I whirled around, giving Fran a bright smile which, to my delight, he reciprocated. "You have no idea the kind of acquaintance you just made."
I glanced between the two in confusion. The receptionist spoke up first. "Oh. Oh, I see! This is her, isn't it?"
"Yes. Eva, this is… one of the many banes of my existence. He's my younger brother, but only in the most remote sense of the word, I assure you." The waiter gave the receptionist a look that was somewhere between contemptuous fondness and pure contempt.
The other man grinned. "Oh Frankie, my Frankie, you are just the most bitter piece of work there is."
"Younger? You look far older than Frank," I remarked.
"Ouch. But what are looks, really?" He waved me off. "And what is age with creatures like us? Frankie tells everyone he's twenty-two, I say I'm twenty-seven. We just made up these numbers to match our faces. He's existed for way longer, though. That's probably why he's so miserable." He leaned forward, twinkling at me. "Me, I see the world through fresher eyes."
I didn't quite know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Frankie, won't you introduce me?"
The waiter sighed deeply. "This is… Zion. Zion Boyd. I told him it's a perfectly silly name, but he wouldn't listen. I'm glad Rhonda picked mine for me."
Zion Boyd laughed quietly. "You're an asshole."
"You're an idiot."
"You wanted to hang out?" I reminded Fran.
"Right!" He grabbed my wrist and began steering me towards the winding flight of stairs in the back of the hall. "Ignore him. Forget him entirely, if possible. You're not missing out.”
He brought me up to his suite, a pleasantly large, open space. The tall windows let in the light of the setting sun, painting blushing hues upon the wallpaper. I sat down on the living room couch, switching on the TV not because I was in the mood to watch anything but rather for the background noise. Frankie joined me after a second, placing before me a glass of cold coconut water as he regarded me through thick lashes. "You got something on your mind, don’t you?”
"Your brother."
"Aw crap. That smarmy, handsome piece of shit…" Fran clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. "I knew this would happen."
"What? No. I was wondering about what he said," I clarified, shifting uneasily in my seat.
His hands stilled. "Oh." He smiled brightly. "Do tell."
"He called you creatures. And there was something else in there about your ages."
"So? What do you think? Any grand theories?"
I shrugged. "I could probably try to piece things together. But I'd rather hear it from you."
"Ah, would you. Well, I'm sorry, Sunshine, but it doesn't work like that."
"Don't you think I need to know?"
He reached out to poke my sternum with his finger. "No. I give you everything you need. When I decide you need more information, I'll give that to you, too."
I frowned at him, but hadn't yet regained the ability to speak when my phone rang. I reluctantly fumbled it out. It was an unknown number, but I recognized the voice that greeted me from the other end. “Mary Markov?”
“Miss Shirley! Nice talking to you again.”
“To be honest, this is a bad time…”
“That’s of no relevance. Remember when I told you I might get back to you?”
“Yes.” I exchanged meaningful looks with Frankie, who rolled his eyes. He scooted closer to me and pressed his cheek up to mine to listen to the phone call. His skin was almost unnaturally smooth. I swallowed thickly when I felt his jaw working on his bubble gum, moving against mine.
"Miss Shirley?" Mary Markov asked. "Are you still there?"
"Did you say something?"
A sigh. "Look. You want money, I want your help. Come to the address I’m sending you now. It’s a big parking lot by a hiking trail in the woods. I have business there, and I could use the extra manpower.”
“Right now? I’m kind of on a…”
“You can bring the misanthropist with you.”
“What’s a misanthropist?” I inquired.
“She means me,” Fran supplied.
"She does," Miss Markov confirmed.
"We're coming." I ended the call, turning to Frankie. "That's okay, right? Are you with me?"
"Sure. Money's important. It'll be better if you have your own so I won't have to give you mine." He got up to collect our jackets. "At least this way, you won't get stabbed for it."
We took Kit's car over to the meet-up spot. Mary Markov was waiting for us beside a black pickup truck that seemed rather ill-suited for her. She was wearing a blazer, suit pants and dress shoes that were somehow pristine despite the muddy ground.
"There you are," she said, her tone crisp. Pointing her chin at the woods behind her, she added, "I hope you're ready for a bit of a hike."
"What do you need me for?" I asked.
"The Collective you came into contact with. We have reason to believe that they are meeting up here, among other places. There are probably hideouts to be found, and other things, too."
"Like what?" Fran raised a skeptical brow.
"The objects you were hired to guard. They're important; we don't rightly know what they are but they're constantly being kept on the move. There's no doubt the Collective wants them to remain obscure, and they're being clever about it."
"And you're hoping we'll go in there unprepared and just stumble across them?" the waiter inquired.
"Not exactly. There's a particular member of the cult we've managed to keep our eye on, and we followed her here. She's with at least two others, so we believe they're up to something important," Mary Markov explained. "Go in and find them. When you do, stay low and observe. I'll stay here. If anything goes wrong, call me and I will send for reinforcement."
"Why don't you let your agents go in? Why pull Eva into this? Again?"
"Frankie, I'm fine," I assured him, taking a step towards the newsreader. "What do I get paid?"
"You won't be disappointed in the money," she promised, smiling thinly. "To answer your friend's legitimate question—," she glanced over at Frank Preston as though she didn't consider his query legitimate at all, "—you are quite handy. Normally, when humans have to defend themselves and it comes to an altercation, there's… screams. Blood. Gunshots. Bullets are costly. Personnel even more so. When our agents get hurt, it might take months for them to recover. You don't need that kind of time. You're altogether less likely to be injured fatally. Employing you might end up saving us some lives and we'll be sure to make it worth your while."
That's, in short, why I found myself trudging through the mud and brushes alongside a very grudging Frank Preston that night. The storm had taken its toll in the woods, too—our chaotic surroundings reminded me of a larger-scale version of Nettie's garden. Trees had been uprooted and were lying dead in our path like organic roadblocks. The ground was covered with broken branches, twigs and young leaves. The wet soil squashed beneath our shoes every step of the way. With nightfall approaching, there was not much light reaching the forest floor. This certainly protected us from visibility, but it came at the price of my vision. I couldn't really see what was beneath me, so I kept tripping and staggering.
Frankie was somehow as graceful as ever, unbothered as he stepped over roots and rocks as if he could sense them before placing his feet. He was much quieter than me, but he thankfully wasn't smug about it. He kept one hand steady on my shoulder, aptly guiding me away from obstacles and protrusions. After a while, this began to work very well, and I became less noisy the deeper we proceeded into the woods. The server’s grip suddenly turned painfully tight, stopping me in my tracks. I realized why when I caught a glimpse of brightness not too far ahead. My chest tightened when I spotted the beam of a flashlight traveling the forest floor.
“Hush,” Frankie murmured into my ear. “Don’t. Move.”
I stood stock-still, trusting the fingers still digging into my skin.
The light passed over us, nearly reaching us but not quite. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, which died in my throat when a familiar voice carried over to us on the breeze.
“Hurry up already, would you?”
“Don’t… don’t stress me. Why aren’t you helping?” a young woman replied.
“Because it’s your fucking job.”
I felt myself break into a cold sweat. My heart was thumping so fiercely it was beginning to hurt; my pulse racing. Breaking from my rigor, I leaned over to whisper to Frankie. “That’s them.”
“What?”
“The one who stabbed me.”
Fran’s hand disappeared from my shoulder, moving down to quickly grasp mine. The pair before us was still on the move, the light of their torch slowly fading into the distance. “Listen to me,” my partner proceeded to hiss into my ear. “There’s two of them and two of us, but technically it’ll just be you. I’m not gonna leave you on your own, but the most I can do is hold one of them down.”
“But you’re strong…”
“I can’t actually hurt anybody. I gladly would, but it’s literally physically impossible for me. Do you still want to follow them?”
I paused. I didn’t want to. In fact, every fiber of my being was yelling at me to run, to get out of those woods, and yet… “We have to.”
A sigh. “I really feel like I ought to talk you out of this.”
“Don’t.”
“If things get dire, I’ll grab you and bail.”
“I’ll allow it. I’m still doing this.”
“Guess I was wrong. You might get stabbed for your pay this time around, too.”
“This is bigger than just money, Fran.”
His hand wandered back to my shoulder, nudging me forward. “I know. You want to tear this creep apart.”
I paused. “If Markov asks, we didn’t plan on it.”
“Finally, some murderous tendencies in that sunny mind of yours.” The cheer in Frankie’s voice was only a little forced.
I steeled myself as we took up walking once more. Soon enough, we caught up with the two cultists, trailing behind them at a safe distance. I could hear the faint scraping of a wheelbarrow on the uneven ground. The eerie creaking noise was enough to speed up my heartrate once more. Frankie’s words still echoing through my mind, my thoughts were racing. A part of me was convinced I was making a terrible mistake, but there was something driving me on. Whether it was curiosity, an underlying thirst for revenge or illusions of grandeur, I’ll never know. Yet forwards I went. Abruptly, the pair stopped, the wheelbarrow grating to a halt. Frankie instantly dragged me down to hide behind a dead, uprooted tree, and not one second too soon.
The beam of the flashlight roamed the underbrush, its owners remaining blissfully unaware of our presence. “Here we are,” the person who’d attacked me spoke up again.
“Woah,” the woman pushing the cart answered eloquently. Whatever they were looking at was undoubtedly rather impressive.
“You’ve never been here before, have you?”
“No… Does it go as deep as they say?”
“Deeper. It’s a whole-ass tunnel system down there. We’ve spent years prepping for this, remember?”
“Okay. Whew. Well then, off we go. Can you help me lift him up, at least?”
The other person groaned. “Fine.”
Frankie Preston had grabbed my arm. The distant shine from the cultists’ torch bathed him in an almost unearthly glow. He was cowering beside me with tense shoulders, his face a cold, concentrated mask. He wasn’t even chewing on his gum anymore. His wired posture reminded me of a lurking wildcat in a nature documentary. When he turned to look at me, I could almost tell what he was thinking.
Whatever these two had come here to do, it was happening now, meaning that this was our last chance to intervene.
Trying to free my mind from all thoughts of flight, I rose to my feet. Step by step, I made my way out of our hiding spot, instantly drawing the pair’s attention. Two heads whipped around to face me. The flashlight dropped and rolled a little ways across the ground, its wide beam illuminating the small clearing and revealing the reason for the cultists’ venture. There was a dark hole in the ground at our feet, the opening reminiscent of a gaping, toothless maw. My gaze wandered over to the pushcart. Its bulky contents were covered by a large, green tarp. The tall, lanky person slowly raised their hands to their hips, uttering a low, mildly surprised “huh”. The woman, who was stockier and far shorter in stature than them, stood frozen in shock. The eyes that stared at me from behind her black mask were blown wide.
“Hey you,” the tall one said. “I had a feeling we’d meet again soon.”
I didn’t respond. My stomach suddenly burned with a phantom pain. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the person’s gloved hands, trying not to jump when their fingers twitched into the direction of their pocket. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I reached up to unzip my jacket. As it fell to the ground, I felt my tentacles pierce my skin. Simultaneously, my teeth began to elongate, curving outward as they uncomfortably stretched out my gums.
“I had a feeling something like this was gonna happen, too,” my former assailant added, tilting their head at me. “I do love being right.”
The woman, who had been stunned speechless up to that point, let out an ear-shattering scream, but before anything coherent could emerge from her throat, the other person had spun around and struck her square across the face. The blow had come with such force that she crumbled immediately, her shriek dying in a strangled whimper before she hit the ground unconscious. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My mind was spinning, but I forced my eyes to remain hard, praying that my large fangs were twisting my face enough to veil my terror. I lifted myself over the fallen tree, partly employing my extra limbs. The cultist didn’t shrink away, instead taking a large step towards me. Before I knew it, the surface of their mask was scraping against my teeth. Too startled to move, I held their gaze for several seconds. Up close, I could see the only part of them that wasn’t obscured.
There was something very, very wrong with their eyes.
At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it. Their iris was of a pale, watery color that could not quite be defined as blue. Their surreal milky sheen was enough to send a chill up my spine. And then I realized it. There were only the irises. That black dot that all humans and most other known lifeforms typically have in their eyes, the pupil, it simply wasn’t there.
I stood rooted to the ground, staring into the stranger’s eyes. I thought I could see different colors swirling around in those not-quite-blue orbs. I was abruptly noticing a sudden inability to move on my part. I wanted to lift my arm and shove the cultist away, I wanted to unhinge my jaw and sink my teeth into their flesh, but I couldn’t. I was distantly aware of the heavy rising and falling of my chest, of my heart thundering in my ribcage, but it didn’t feel real somehow. Nothing felt real anymore. The world had turned iridescently turquoise and violent, flashing lights dotting my vision as my breathing grew quicker.
Somewhere in the back of my head, the last waking part of me was screaming.
And then, all of a sudden, everything turned dark again. I blinked furiously, trying to orient myself as the outlines of trees and bushes swam into focus again. The sweet smell of pine needles and damp soil hit me as I emerged from the hypnotic half-slumber. Before me, ramrod straight, stood Frankie Preston, and somehow, the sight of him had triggered the flight instinct in the cultist I had failed to provoke. Our eye contact broken, they staggered back, just as Fran stepped aside. This time, I didn’t throw away my shot. I threw myself at the stranger, lunging forward with my teeth bared. They dodged me by a hair’s breadth, bolting towards the manhole and, within a split second, they had disappeared down the pitch-black shaft. No sound of impact met our pricked ears.
Frankie wordlessly took out his phone, proceeding to place the call to Mary Markov. He walked over to me as they talked, grabbing my hand with his free one and pumping it almost rhythmically like he was trying an unconventional method of resuscitation. His voice and that of the newsreader on the other end sounded strangely far away. After hanging up, he hastily typed something before finally shoving the device back into his pocket. With an almost methodical precision, he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up, holding me close to his chest. My tentacles were hanging limply from my back as my teeth slowly began to reassume their normal size and length. Entangling my trembling fingers in his curls, I must have looked absolutely pitiful. The server sat down on the fallen tree, his grip on me unfaltering as I adjusted to sit on his lap, feeling myself unwind.
We remained like this, not speaking, until we heard steps draw closer. Mary Markov and two of her agents were walking towards us at a speedy pace, the newsreader crouching down in front of us while the two men immediately took to the unconscious female cultist.
“You were in here for quite a while,” she began, her voice drifting in and out of my ears while Frankie’s soothing touch curled around the edge of my senses. “I had a feeling something had gone wrong, so I’d already sent for backup. Good thing, too, I guess.” Her voice held a barely hidden note of accusation.
“Leave her be. She’s obviously in no condition to speak,” the waiter growled.
I would have confirmed this, but I was in no condition to speak.
Mary sighed. “Nevermind then, we’ll discuss this later. For now, let’s check what they were transporting.”
I patted Fran on the back to alert him.
“Feeling curious? Even after all of this?”
I nodded into his nape.
A grunt. “Well, fine. Not like this could have gone any worse, huh.” He stood up and walked us over to the wheelbarrow, closely followed by Mary. The newsreader inspected the tarp, then grabbed one corner and flung it off the cart. A sharp gasp escaped her and I craned my neck to look. Frankie instantly turned around, trying to avert my eyes from the sight that had just been revealed to us, but it was too late. I had already seen the contents. The headless body lying folded in the barrow.
A human with their head removed doesn't look entirely human anymore. I could tell from the stature that it was a male body, but its condition made him feel less like a person. I couldn't help drawing this distinction, even though it made my stomach turn. Rigor mortis having washed over the carcass, he was in a bent, twisted position that would have been painful to anyone still alive. One of his arms, freed from the tarp, was dangling loosely over the side of the cart. One of Mary’s agents gagged and covered his mouth. I shot him a sympathetic glance, though I don’t think he caught it. I was too tired to scream or throw up. Thus quenching any visceral reaction to the gruesome sight, I buried my face in Fran’s shirt once more, closing my eyes.
X
1
2: deadbeat roommate
3: creepy crush
4: relocation
5: beach concert
6: First date
7: Temp work
8: roommate talk
9: a dismal worldview
10: warehouse
11: staircase
12: explanation
13: hurt
14: hospital
15: ocean
16: diner
2023.05.28 16:32 NightCities13 188 Years Later-Game 1-Full Games
Day 1
As the tributes rose up into the arena, they found themselves in a place formerly known as Crater Lake. Clear blue water and mountains surrounding filled the arena, and an island where the cornucopia was.
Throwing knives, spears, swords, tasers, tridents, flamethrowers, hammers, axes, pairs of scissors, scythes, machetes, sharpened rakes, poison darts, poisoned syringes, and bows and arrows were included as the weapons in the back layer.
Sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, electrical parts, fishing rods and bait, bottles of poison, camouflage paints, sewing kits, and medical kits were included in the middle.
Finally bottles of water, loaves of bread, blocks of cheese, bags of grapes, and bags of lettuce were included at the front of the cornucopia.
Also, backpacks with a loaf of bread, two bottles of water, a block of cheese, and a pack of throwing knives were included on the outlying areas of the island, and there were twelve backpacks.
As the timer went down through a minute, Rosa and Julio noticed the backpacks, and decided to run to the edge of the island and grab one each. Amabilia focused on a spear, and Horus focused on a sword.
The bell rang, and Rosa and Julio ran to the shore, grabbing a backpack each, and the jumping into the water. They swam for ten minutes until they reached land, and tiredly hid behind some rocks.
Horus grabbed a spear, ramming it into the head of the girl from 1, causing Randy (1) to angrily glare at him. Randy had already killed the girls from 12 and 6, and retaliated against Horus, killing Fabrica (8). This caused Horus to flinch, as Amabilia had finished killing the boys from 9 and 8, and the girl from 7. Roth (3) ran at Randy with his spear, causing Randy to grab Roth and snap his neck. Randy then left the cornucopia, killing Joya (12) and Rosetto (11) who were arguing over a backpack.
Horus decided to chase Randy, who had just finished killing Londyn (6) as she tried to camouflage herself. Horus grabbed his sword and slit Randy’s throat, almost beheading him. Horus then returned to Amabilia.
Rosa and Julio stayed near their rocky hiding spot, and ate some of their bread and cheese, and each drank half of a water bottle. All water bottles were kept cold this Games, as the weather was warm and sunny in the arena.
That night at midnight, the portraits of the girl from 1 and Randy, Roth from 3, Londyn and the boy from 6, the girl from 7, Fabrica and the boy from 8, the boy from 9, Rosetto from 11, and Joya and the boy from 12, leaving twelve tributes remaining.
Day 2
Rosa awoke to see Laurelina (11) staring into her face. She grabbed her knife and stabbed her, and awoke Julio during the commotion. Julio carried Laurelina’s body away from their hiding spot, and comforted a crying Rosa.
Meanwhile Horus awoke just in time to see Wanda (9) slashing Amabilia to death. His face turned turned to horror when Amabilia’s screams ended, and he grabbed his sword and ran at Wanda, who swam away. Horus decided not to chase Wanda, and instead sat next to Amabilia’s body until it was carried away. Tears filled his eyes as he promised her body that he would win, before grabbing his sword and sitting atop a rock.
Later that day, Cray and Finley (both 4) were killed by Lunette and Haruki (both 5). Their screamed filled the area as the 5s stabbed them to death.
Horus finally left the cornucopia, and swam to a nearby islet where Wanda and Twigg (7) who had allied on the first day, were resting. Horus stabbed Wanda and Twigg in the head with his sword and Amabilia’s spear, before heading back to the cornucopia as their cannons sounded.
That night, the portraits of Amabilia from 2, Cray and Finley from 4, Twigg from 7, Wanda from 9, and Laurelina from 11 were shown in the sky, leaving six tributes to fight the next day.
Day 3
The next morning, Rosa and Julio were surprised by Circitina (3) who had spent the Games hiding nearby to the two 10s. Julio threw a knife at Circitina, who screamed as she was hit in the arm. Julio yanked the knife from Circitina’s arm and stabbed her in the head.
Horus was ordered to swim to the land area, and he grabbed Amabilia’s spear and his sword, before swimming to the land.
Meanwhile Rosa and Julio had a standoff with Lunette and Haruki, and actually managed to throw knives into both of their heads.
Both Julio and Rosa then turned to the water as Horus exited. He grabbed his spear and ran at the two, and stabbed Rosa in the stomach. Rosa hit the ground, tears streaming down her face as she watched Horus stab Julio in the head with his spear. Rosa started to cry, but as she died, Horus knelt down and held her hand, and told her how well she had done. As the light left Rosa’s eyes, tears filled Horus’s own as a final cannon sounded.
Eighteen year old Horus Greenstaff of District 2 was announced as the victor of the 1st Hunger Games, and he was taken to the Capitol by hovercraft.
Aftermath
Horus had no injuries, so he was released to the custody of Gladius.
The next day he had his victors interview. Horus wore a shimmering gold suit, and a gold fedora on his head. He talked about being sympathetic to the tributes he killed, particularly Julio and Rosa, and said that he was glad that he had the money to support his family, and a mansion in victors village to live in.
Horus returned to District 2, and hugged all three of his sisters. He lived happily with them as they grew up and moved into their own homes.
Horus married a woman named Desideria Wall at the age of 22, and had two sons, Gladius and Julian, after his mentor and final opponent, and two daughters named Rosalie, after his final opponent as well, and Amabilia after his ally and friend.
Horus went on to mentor the tributes of District 2, until another mentor took his place. In his retirement, Horus retreated to a house in the mountains with his family.
After this successful Games, many were excited for the second Games, which would occur the next year.
submitted by NightCities13 to christianblanco [link] [comments]
As the tributes rose up into the arena, they found themselves in a place formerly known as Crater Lake. Clear blue water and mountains surrounding filled the arena, and an island where the cornucopia was.
Throwing knives, spears, swords, tasers, tridents, flamethrowers, hammers, axes, pairs of scissors, scythes, machetes, sharpened rakes, poison darts, poisoned syringes, and bows and arrows were included as the weapons in the back layer.
Sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, electrical parts, fishing rods and bait, bottles of poison, camouflage paints, sewing kits, and medical kits were included in the middle.
Finally bottles of water, loaves of bread, blocks of cheese, bags of grapes, and bags of lettuce were included at the front of the cornucopia.
Also, backpacks with a loaf of bread, two bottles of water, a block of cheese, and a pack of throwing knives were included on the outlying areas of the island, and there were twelve backpacks.
As the timer went down through a minute, Rosa and Julio noticed the backpacks, and decided to run to the edge of the island and grab one each. Amabilia focused on a spear, and Horus focused on a sword.
The bell rang, and Rosa and Julio ran to the shore, grabbing a backpack each, and the jumping into the water. They swam for ten minutes until they reached land, and tiredly hid behind some rocks.
Horus grabbed a spear, ramming it into the head of the girl from 1, causing Randy (1) to angrily glare at him. Randy had already killed the girls from 12 and 6, and retaliated against Horus, killing Fabrica (8). This caused Horus to flinch, as Amabilia had finished killing the boys from 9 and 8, and the girl from 7. Roth (3) ran at Randy with his spear, causing Randy to grab Roth and snap his neck. Randy then left the cornucopia, killing Joya (12) and Rosetto (11) who were arguing over a backpack.
Horus decided to chase Randy, who had just finished killing Londyn (6) as she tried to camouflage herself. Horus grabbed his sword and slit Randy’s throat, almost beheading him. Horus then returned to Amabilia.
Rosa and Julio stayed near their rocky hiding spot, and ate some of their bread and cheese, and each drank half of a water bottle. All water bottles were kept cold this Games, as the weather was warm and sunny in the arena.
That night at midnight, the portraits of the girl from 1 and Randy, Roth from 3, Londyn and the boy from 6, the girl from 7, Fabrica and the boy from 8, the boy from 9, Rosetto from 11, and Joya and the boy from 12, leaving twelve tributes remaining.
Day 2
Rosa awoke to see Laurelina (11) staring into her face. She grabbed her knife and stabbed her, and awoke Julio during the commotion. Julio carried Laurelina’s body away from their hiding spot, and comforted a crying Rosa.
Meanwhile Horus awoke just in time to see Wanda (9) slashing Amabilia to death. His face turned turned to horror when Amabilia’s screams ended, and he grabbed his sword and ran at Wanda, who swam away. Horus decided not to chase Wanda, and instead sat next to Amabilia’s body until it was carried away. Tears filled his eyes as he promised her body that he would win, before grabbing his sword and sitting atop a rock.
Later that day, Cray and Finley (both 4) were killed by Lunette and Haruki (both 5). Their screamed filled the area as the 5s stabbed them to death.
Horus finally left the cornucopia, and swam to a nearby islet where Wanda and Twigg (7) who had allied on the first day, were resting. Horus stabbed Wanda and Twigg in the head with his sword and Amabilia’s spear, before heading back to the cornucopia as their cannons sounded.
That night, the portraits of Amabilia from 2, Cray and Finley from 4, Twigg from 7, Wanda from 9, and Laurelina from 11 were shown in the sky, leaving six tributes to fight the next day.
Day 3
The next morning, Rosa and Julio were surprised by Circitina (3) who had spent the Games hiding nearby to the two 10s. Julio threw a knife at Circitina, who screamed as she was hit in the arm. Julio yanked the knife from Circitina’s arm and stabbed her in the head.
Horus was ordered to swim to the land area, and he grabbed Amabilia’s spear and his sword, before swimming to the land.
Meanwhile Rosa and Julio had a standoff with Lunette and Haruki, and actually managed to throw knives into both of their heads.
Both Julio and Rosa then turned to the water as Horus exited. He grabbed his spear and ran at the two, and stabbed Rosa in the stomach. Rosa hit the ground, tears streaming down her face as she watched Horus stab Julio in the head with his spear. Rosa started to cry, but as she died, Horus knelt down and held her hand, and told her how well she had done. As the light left Rosa’s eyes, tears filled Horus’s own as a final cannon sounded.
Eighteen year old Horus Greenstaff of District 2 was announced as the victor of the 1st Hunger Games, and he was taken to the Capitol by hovercraft.
Aftermath
Horus had no injuries, so he was released to the custody of Gladius.
The next day he had his victors interview. Horus wore a shimmering gold suit, and a gold fedora on his head. He talked about being sympathetic to the tributes he killed, particularly Julio and Rosa, and said that he was glad that he had the money to support his family, and a mansion in victors village to live in.
Horus returned to District 2, and hugged all three of his sisters. He lived happily with them as they grew up and moved into their own homes.
Horus married a woman named Desideria Wall at the age of 22, and had two sons, Gladius and Julian, after his mentor and final opponent, and two daughters named Rosalie, after his final opponent as well, and Amabilia after his ally and friend.
Horus went on to mentor the tributes of District 2, until another mentor took his place. In his retirement, Horus retreated to a house in the mountains with his family.
After this successful Games, many were excited for the second Games, which would occur the next year.
2023.05.28 15:39 Raiste1901 Lesson 0. The Thulnusona people and their language
The name Thulnusona designates an ethnic group that inhabits the western part of the Hinuus island (also known as “Wunayis”, mostly in the Highlands). The people and their language (Thulnuson) received this name after the black soil and rocks (“thulas”), therefore their dialects are commonly known as the Black language. Despite being linguistically diverse, most natives of the western part of the island use the term “Thulnusas” (plural “thulnusona”) or its variations to refer to themselves.
The two other ethnic groups, inhabiting the southern and eastern portions of the island, are called “ekheekana” and “hoyikana”, their languages – “ekheekan” (Red) and “hoyikan” (White) respectively. The names of the latter group is usually derived from the snow-white peaks of the two volcanoes, visible from the western part of the island, while the former name is etymologically obscure. Another related ethnic group, living on a southern island on the slopes of the Yóhísíltás volcano are known to the Thulnusona as “iiswatáná” (the far-landers).
All ethnic groups and their respective languages are genetically related to one another. Archeological data suggests that people have been continuously living on the Hinuus archipelago for approximately ten thousand years, however high geological activity complicates accurate dating. The proto-language (the last common ancestral language of all current dialects, spoken on the islands) is estimated to have been spoken not earlier than about 3000 years ago, leaving a large portion of its history completely unknown.
The Thulnuson language consists of multiple dialects, which share moderate mutual intelligibility. The particular dialect, chosen for this course, is spoken in the highlands of the Sőőlkűgas volcano between the settlements of Kohosányis and Sönyöönas. The area is approximately 670 km² (about the size of the cities, such as Manchester or El Paso) having the population of 1200 people in total. The majority of the population lives in the lower eastern part, while about 400 people live in Kohosányis and small villages nearby in the west, mostly along small rivers and brooks. Houses are mostly wooden, since the area lies in the subarctic climate belt at the altitude from 650 to 1500 m above sea level, bordering a sparcely inhabited alpine tundra with no permanent sedentary population at its higher boundary. The region is mostly covered by dense pine and walchia forest, which gives way to lycopods, calamites and ferns at its lower boundary. The climate is generally mild and cool, ranging from Cfc (subpolar oceanic) to Dfc (subarctic) with short summers (up to +18°C in the warmest month) and long cool winters with sub-zero temperatures being rare (reaching -10°C only in the highest parts of the area), wet throughout the whole year, receiving up to 4000 mm of rainfall. Although much sunnier, than the low valleys to the north, the highlands are still very foggy, cloudy and windy, and summer snowfall is not uncommon. Relative humidity is more than 95% on average, frequently reaching 100% due to orographic lift, allowing many species of moss and trimerophytes to flourish.
Three clans live in the highland area: “hííkílaane” – dense forest people, “thwaatínóye” – people of the falling water, and “nisügatínóye” - people of bouncing sunshine; all three are native to the region and have relatively minor differences in vocabulary. Their dialect shares the most linguistic features with other Highland dialects, but it is also closely related to the northeastern dialect of Tikyúkonoonas the valley of the Suulaseyas River neighbouring lowlands, suggesting that they migrated to the highlands from those territories. Other Thulnuson dialects show about the same level of similarity and mutual intelligibility with this dialect.
The most important activities of the highlanders are foraging and fishing. Pine nuts, tanned fish skin and dried salmon meat are traded with people from the lowlands for other other products, such as seed fern flour, fronds and seafood (mostly crustaceans, molluscs and seaweed) and penguin skins. Most of the highlanders live in one area for most or the whole life, rarely moving far away from their first clan (the clan into which they were born). Some, especially those living at a higher elevation, are semi-nomadic, as they spend summers closer to the tundra, but descend into the valleys close to the lowland region in winter. Log boats and canoes are the most common type of transport along the rivers, otherwise human-pulled carts and wagons, are used, as there are some relatively flat roads going west to east and descending north into the lowlands, but otherwise people travel on foot, just as in any other part of the island. The houseboats, called oyesas, are not found in the highlands, because the local bodies of water are not deep and wide enough, however, they are common in the lowland regions across the island.
The Thulnusona family is matrilineal and matrilocal (the latter, however, is common only for the highlanders, while the lowlanders are frequently neolocal – they don't stay with their mother's clan). Strict rules of exogamy among the clans are observed (one cannot marry with a person from the same clan).
The Thulnusona people share their belief system with other native groups of the island, and various religious activities play an important role in their day-to-day life. Pilgrimage to the holy places, such as summits of the three main volcanoes and particular geographical features, are common, and people from different settlements often travel together, sharing news, stories and various items. Their religion can be described as pantheistic and/or animistic with áltáltiwas (“emptiness, absence”) and yilhólas (“universal consciousness or presence, life force”) being the highest aspects of existence, and everything in the universe cycles through these two aspects eternally. The main figures or deities are silonyas (“soul”, plural silonyaye; a being that can inhabit a physical body) and holiyas (“spirit”, plural holiyaye; a being that exists without a body, usually as an aspect of nature), which interact with the physical world and help to achieve wősiyüüs (“liberation, fulfillment or realisation”) by resolving laaswayis (“inertia, unresolved interactions”). The interaction between human beings and spirits are often handled by súnaye (“shamans”), but shamanistic practices are not the main focus of the religion, which is instead the discovery of the individual (wülsuunán – “a journey one must perform on their own”).
wo⁵-tu²-ca⁰-V⁻¹
1S-VEN-go-IPFV
The glossing abbreviations will be explained in order to avoid confusion. Full verb paradigms, although possible to represent, will not be shown, as a single verb can have thousands of possible forms, which may be viewed as too distractive.
New vocabulary will be explained with examples, when needed, since many words have narrow meanings and their usage is tied to specific situations or cultural aspects, and thus they must be clarified.
submitted by Raiste1901 to u/Raiste1901 [link] [comments]
The two other ethnic groups, inhabiting the southern and eastern portions of the island, are called “ekheekana” and “hoyikana”, their languages – “ekheekan” (Red) and “hoyikan” (White) respectively. The names of the latter group is usually derived from the snow-white peaks of the two volcanoes, visible from the western part of the island, while the former name is etymologically obscure. Another related ethnic group, living on a southern island on the slopes of the Yóhísíltás volcano are known to the Thulnusona as “iiswatáná” (the far-landers).
All ethnic groups and their respective languages are genetically related to one another. Archeological data suggests that people have been continuously living on the Hinuus archipelago for approximately ten thousand years, however high geological activity complicates accurate dating. The proto-language (the last common ancestral language of all current dialects, spoken on the islands) is estimated to have been spoken not earlier than about 3000 years ago, leaving a large portion of its history completely unknown.
The Thulnuson language consists of multiple dialects, which share moderate mutual intelligibility. The particular dialect, chosen for this course, is spoken in the highlands of the Sőőlkűgas volcano between the settlements of Kohosányis and Sönyöönas. The area is approximately 670 km² (about the size of the cities, such as Manchester or El Paso) having the population of 1200 people in total. The majority of the population lives in the lower eastern part, while about 400 people live in Kohosányis and small villages nearby in the west, mostly along small rivers and brooks. Houses are mostly wooden, since the area lies in the subarctic climate belt at the altitude from 650 to 1500 m above sea level, bordering a sparcely inhabited alpine tundra with no permanent sedentary population at its higher boundary. The region is mostly covered by dense pine and walchia forest, which gives way to lycopods, calamites and ferns at its lower boundary. The climate is generally mild and cool, ranging from Cfc (subpolar oceanic) to Dfc (subarctic) with short summers (up to +18°C in the warmest month) and long cool winters with sub-zero temperatures being rare (reaching -10°C only in the highest parts of the area), wet throughout the whole year, receiving up to 4000 mm of rainfall. Although much sunnier, than the low valleys to the north, the highlands are still very foggy, cloudy and windy, and summer snowfall is not uncommon. Relative humidity is more than 95% on average, frequently reaching 100% due to orographic lift, allowing many species of moss and trimerophytes to flourish.
Three clans live in the highland area: “hííkílaane” – dense forest people, “thwaatínóye” – people of the falling water, and “nisügatínóye” - people of bouncing sunshine; all three are native to the region and have relatively minor differences in vocabulary. Their dialect shares the most linguistic features with other Highland dialects, but it is also closely related to the northeastern dialect of Tikyúkonoonas the valley of the Suulaseyas River neighbouring lowlands, suggesting that they migrated to the highlands from those territories. Other Thulnuson dialects show about the same level of similarity and mutual intelligibility with this dialect.
The most important activities of the highlanders are foraging and fishing. Pine nuts, tanned fish skin and dried salmon meat are traded with people from the lowlands for other other products, such as seed fern flour, fronds and seafood (mostly crustaceans, molluscs and seaweed) and penguin skins. Most of the highlanders live in one area for most or the whole life, rarely moving far away from their first clan (the clan into which they were born). Some, especially those living at a higher elevation, are semi-nomadic, as they spend summers closer to the tundra, but descend into the valleys close to the lowland region in winter. Log boats and canoes are the most common type of transport along the rivers, otherwise human-pulled carts and wagons, are used, as there are some relatively flat roads going west to east and descending north into the lowlands, but otherwise people travel on foot, just as in any other part of the island. The houseboats, called oyesas, are not found in the highlands, because the local bodies of water are not deep and wide enough, however, they are common in the lowland regions across the island.
The Thulnusona family is matrilineal and matrilocal (the latter, however, is common only for the highlanders, while the lowlanders are frequently neolocal – they don't stay with their mother's clan). Strict rules of exogamy among the clans are observed (one cannot marry with a person from the same clan).
The Thulnusona people share their belief system with other native groups of the island, and various religious activities play an important role in their day-to-day life. Pilgrimage to the holy places, such as summits of the three main volcanoes and particular geographical features, are common, and people from different settlements often travel together, sharing news, stories and various items. Their religion can be described as pantheistic and/or animistic with áltáltiwas (“emptiness, absence”) and yilhólas (“universal consciousness or presence, life force”) being the highest aspects of existence, and everything in the universe cycles through these two aspects eternally. The main figures or deities are silonyas (“soul”, plural silonyaye; a being that can inhabit a physical body) and holiyas (“spirit”, plural holiyaye; a being that exists without a body, usually as an aspect of nature), which interact with the physical world and help to achieve wősiyüüs (“liberation, fulfillment or realisation”) by resolving laaswayis (“inertia, unresolved interactions”). The interaction between human beings and spirits are often handled by súnaye (“shamans”), but shamanistic practices are not the main focus of the religion, which is instead the discovery of the individual (wülsuunán – “a journey one must perform on their own”).
Some further remarks:
Throughout the following lessons, the transcription used will closely reflect the phonological system of the chosen Thulnuson dialect. Grammatical forms and vocabulary, not found in this dialect, will not be described in detail. This doesn't mean, that forms from other dialects are not correct, but describing every dialect instead of focusing on one specific idiom would be too complicated and difficult, often confusing to the readers. Some verbal forms will be given parsed, according to the morphological principles outlined in later lessons, making it easier for the readers to understand the internal structure of different verbs forms, which may otherwise be opaque. For example, wotucáá “I'm walking towards it (alone)” will be given as:wo⁵-tu²-ca⁰-V⁻¹
1S-VEN-go-IPFV
The glossing abbreviations will be explained in order to avoid confusion. Full verb paradigms, although possible to represent, will not be shown, as a single verb can have thousands of possible forms, which may be viewed as too distractive.
New vocabulary will be explained with examples, when needed, since many words have narrow meanings and their usage is tied to specific situations or cultural aspects, and thus they must be clarified.
2023.05.28 15:36 MelasD Amelia: The Level Zero Hero Chapter 132
The Clawed Hands got to work.
Giles could already see Kristen and her team doing their part and engaging with the convoy from the flank. Spells and arrows were being flung across the valley as voices shouted and screamed in the distance. But the soldiers from the Kingdom of Kal could barely put up a fight, even though they outnumbered their opponents.
Because Kristen was A-ranked, just like Giles. And the rest of her team were low B-ranks at most. Even if there were only a handful of them, they were more than enough to deal with the first wave of guards protecting the convoy.
Not that they needed to engage in combat for long. Because they were meant to be a distraction— to lure the main bulk of the soldiers from the convoy away from the armored wagon carrying Guildmaster Evan.
“We just have to watch out for Seth the Battlemage,” Giles said as he hopped off a rock, before sliding down the hill. “He’s an A-rank [Mage]. If you see him, just back off. I’ll handle him.”
Both Sylvie and Jaden followed right behind him. Sylvie seemed to glide on the earth as the ground shifted beneath her feet— a result of her spellcasting. Meanwhile, Jaden ran down as fast as he could… only to trip and tumble all the way down.
Giles paused to stare at the boy as he crashed at the bottom of the valley. Sylvie also came to a halt right next to the leader of the Clawed Hands.
“Are you alright, Jaden?” she called out.
And Jaden groaned as he picked himself up from a small crater on the ground. He dusted himself off as he shook his head.
“I’m fine—” he started.
Only to be interrupted as an arrow flew into the back of his head.
“Take this, you brigand!” a soldier shouted as he loosed another flurry of projectiles at Jaden.
But as the second and third arrow landed on Jaden, the soldier paused. His eyes went wide as one after another, the arrows shattered upon impact.
“What…?”
Jaden stumbled back as he spun around with an annoyed look on his face. “That hurt you asshole!”
He picked up one of the broken arrowheads as the soldier turned to run. But before the soldier could get far, Jaden hurled the broken arrowhead with all his strength. And the broken arrowhead short forward so fast like it had been fired from a crossbow.
The soldier slumped over with a gaping hole in his chest as Giles and Sylvie came to a halt right next to Jaden.
The leader of the Clawed Hands smirked as he nodded at the boy. “Good work.”
That was why Jaden was called the Titanium Brute. Thanks to his Skills, it was like his skin was made of metal. He could tank most attacks by lower-leveled individuals unscathed. Even if he did feel a little bit of pain from them.
“Remember, our target is that armored wagon,” Giles said as he nodded up ahead past a group of running guards.
The convoy was in a panic. And the soldiers escorting it were thrown into disarray. Most of them were distracted by Kristen and her team as they took out guard after guard. Only a handful of them even noticed the trio of mercenaries standing at the other side of the convoy.
A group of soldiers paused as a [Mage] raised a wand and pointed at Giles. They let out a war cry, before charging forward as the [Mage] supported them with a volley of spells. Giles took a step forward as he nodded at Sylvie.
“Do your thing,” he said.
“Right— [Mass Sleep]!” She pointed at the charging soldiers.
She was a [Sorceress]. That meant she was capable of casting rather unusual spells that weren’t typically suited for dueling. But right now, her magic sufficed in distracting the soldiers. That was why she was known as the Diverting Dandelion.
Their movements slowed. They grew sluggish, before collapsing on the ground, completely unconscious. But the [Mage] was still awake. He screamed as he hurled a fireball straight at Giles.
The explosion rocked the ground as Sylvie and Jaden winced. However, Giles was no longer standing there. He appeared right next to the [Mage] with a grin plastered on his face. The [Mage] blinked, before spinning around.
And Giles just shook his head. “Don’t even try— you’ve already lost.”
With that, the [Mage] crumpled silently to the ground as blood spurted out of his chest. Giles twirled his dagger in hand as he looked back up to the armored wagon just up ahead. The convoy was starting to take notice of him. Dozens of soldiers moved to intercept him as he started to sprint forward.
“Sylvie, Jaden!” he called out to his companions. “Distract them!”
“Yes, boss!” they replied in unison as they hurriedly trailed after him.
Despite being a pair of young troublemakers who were normally a pain in the ass to deal with, they were very competent in the battlefield. Sylvie slammed a fist onto the ground, causing a localized tremor that shook the landscape. The group of soldiers stumbled and staggered, only for Jaden to ram into them a moment after.
He tore their numbers apart as Giles leapt into the sky. The leader of the Clawed Hands nodded approvingly at the two of them, taking a moment to survey the battlefield. Everything was going according to plan. Now it was up to him to complete the mission.
The [Daggermaster] tossed his dagger down onto the ground right next to the armored wagon. There was a flash of light. Just like when he had recalled the weapon into his hands. But this time, it wasn’t his dagger that was teleporting. It was him.
Giles appeared right next to his dagger as he shook his head. It was an enchantment on the dagger that allowed him to teleport to it, or to teleport it back to him. It was a powerful artifact. And it had earned him the Title of the Flying Blade.
He raised his head to look at the enchantments protecting the armored wagon. It was not going to be easy to break through. Not with his Skills at the very least. But that was why he came prepared.
He produced a scroll from his side as he nodded. He unfurled it, watching as the runes etched on its surface shone. Giles pointed it at the wagon.
“Dispel M—” he started.
And his eyes flickered as he saw a glint coming from the side. Giles leapt back just in time to avoid a blast of frost. He spun around to face a figure clad in ice. His eyes narrowed as he watched the figure step forward.
“Seth the Battlemage,” Giles said as he twirled his dagger. “So you’ve finally decided to join the fray.”
Seth shook his head, raising his staff as it was wreathed in ice. A broadsword of frost was formed at the very tip— about the size of the Battlemage himself. He slowly drew forward, dragging the weapon behind him.
“Oh? It seems you’ve done your research on who I am…” He tilted his head, peering curiously at Giles. “You’re no ordinary brigand, are you?”
The [Daggermaster] just licked his lips in response. “Perhaps— but it does not matter. Because you die here.”
And with that, Giles lashed out with his dagger. He was fast. He reached the Battlemage in an instant, slicing down with a flash of light. It was a Skill— a piercing attack that could have torn apart even titanium.
But the ice armor Seth wore took the brunt of the attack. He stumbled back, grunting as his ice armor collapsed around him. He hefted the frost broadsword and swung it down at the [Daggermaster].
But Giles deftly deflected the attack as he stepped forward. He thrusted out with a flurry of strikes, and the Battlemage raised the broadsword of frost.
The broadsword of frost began to break apart as the attacks whittled it down. Seth was A-ranked, just like the [Daggermaster]. However, the fact was that he was barely into A-rank, and those few levels separating them made a massive difference.
Giles laughed as he swung out once more. This time, he gripped his dagger with both his hands, and he felt a surge of strength flow through him. He slammed the blade against the frost broadsword— and the ice shattered.
Seth staggered forward as his weapon was destroyed. Giles just kicked the Battlemage back against the armored wagon, before striding forward.
“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” the [Daggermaster] asked. “Did you really think you could beat me with that pathetic display?”
The Battlemage chuckled as he looked weakly back up to Giles. “No— but that was enough to distract you.”
And that made the leader of the Clawed Hands pause. “Distract me…?”
Right as the words left his mouth, a powerful explosion rocked the valley. Giles was thrown back from the shockwave, seeing a pillar of smoke rise into the sky. He steadied himself as his brows snapped together.
“What is that?” he asked as he looked up in horror.
“Did you really think we didn’t expect the Adventurer’s Guild to strike back?” Seth asked, getting to his feet.
The dust and smoke began to clear as Giles swept his gaze over his surroundings. He looked on with narrowed eyes, seeing a massive crater just up ahead. Kristen and her team were lying bloodied at the very edge of the blast zone.
“Kristen…?”
“We expected adventurers— but mercenaries like you?” the Battlemage said as he shook his head. “It makes no difference.”
Giles blinked, before hearing a voice cry out in pain behind him. He spun around, watching as both Jaden flew through the air and crashed right at the [Daggermaster]’s feet.
“Jaden!” Giles called out as he rushed to the boy’s side. “What happened?”
“Sorry, boss,” another voice came in reply. Giles glanced back to see Sylvie stumbling forward, clutching her bleeding shoulder. “But I couldn’t distract her…”
“Distract who?” the [Daggermaster] asked as he took a step forward.
But Sylvie collapsed. Giles blinked. He cast his gaze over the battlefield as the realization settled in. The Clawed Hands were defeated with ease— quickly and swiftly, before he could even notice it.
He took a step back as he gritted his teeth. “We’re the Clawed Hands… we’re elites! We’re specialists at our jobs! How…?”
“Well, maybe you aren’t as good at your job as you think you are,” a burly figure said as he walked past Jaden’s fallen body.
“You’re…?” Giles stared with wide eyes. “Rokh the Bludgeoning Striker?”
The [Daggermaster] recognized the burly man in an instant. He was the one who had been placed in charge of the fortress back in Windrip. An A-rank captain who was renowned for his physical prowess.
Giles shook his head as he exclaimed. “That… makes no sense! You shouldn’t be here!”
“Oh? And what made you think I would stay in that backwater city?” Rokh said with a smug look on his face. “I left my lieutenant in charge of that shit place. I’m never returning back there ever again.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Giles snarled. “You’re abandoning Windrip just to transport a single man out of the city?”
Rokh shook his head. “That man is the reason why we’re here in the first place. Unfortunately, our King had other matters to attend to, so he took his leave. The only reason we took so long to follow after him is because we were waiting for her to arrive.”
Giles narrowed his eyes. “Her? Who is—”
And there was a flash of light. He leapt back as he dodged a black beam that cut the ground open. He frowned, looking up at a black-haired girl as she descended from the sky.
The leader of the Clawed Hands paused as he saw who it was. His eyes widened, and his legs shook. He took a step back as he said her name.
“Eloise the Dark Wizard,” he whispered. “S-rank mercenary— what are you doing here?”
She just smiled at him in response. “I have been hired by the [Hero King] himself to ensure that his cargo is safely transported back to his nation. It is a pleasure to meet you, Giles the Flying Blade.”
“That’s…” Giles hadn’t even known that she had been in the city. If he had known that she’d be involved, he wouldn’t have taken this job. He pursed his lips as she glanced dismissively at Jaden and Sylvie.
“I have heard so much about the Clawed Hands— I was excited to see you in action. But…” She shook her head as she covered her mouth. “I must say, you have been nothing but a disappointment.”
Giles ground his teeth together. “Why would the [Hero King] hire an S-rank mercenary to transport a damn guildmaster? Just what is going on?”
“I do not know why my clients hire me,” Eloise said simply as she took a step forward. “I simply complete my task. I am sure you understand that as much as me. That is why—”
She raised a hand, pointing straight at him as his eyes went round. Her fingers cracked with a black electricity as she spoke simply.
“As much as I would love to continue this conversation, I have to annihilate you.”
“No—” Giles protested.
But a blast of dark lightning shot forward as he opened his mouth. He couldn’t even react in time. He winced, raising his dagger protectively. He knew it wouldn’t save him. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against her.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the searing pain. Giles knew that he was as good as dead. He accepted this outcome. He wanted to get over it as quickly as possible. But… death never came.
Giles blinked as he heard the thundering crackle of the dark lightning come and go. He saw the flash of light flicker and dissipate. He looked down at himself, seeing that he was still in one piece.
And he sighed in relief. “I’m… alive? But how—”
He looked back up to see a figure standing before him. A brown-haired woman dressed in strange clothes. His eyes narrowed as he saw an impossibly torn and tattered cloak blowing with the wind behind her. She held a rusty sword in the air, and Giles couldn’t help but stare at her in awe.
Because she deflected the attack with ease. Even Eloise looked on with a surprised look on her face as the brown-haired woman just lowered her blade. Seth frowned, and Captain Rokh peered at her suspiciously.
“Who are you?” Giles asked with wide eyes.
“I’m Amelia,” the brown-haired woman said simply. “And I’m here to save Evan.”
submitted by MelasD to HFY [link] [comments]
Giles could already see Kristen and her team doing their part and engaging with the convoy from the flank. Spells and arrows were being flung across the valley as voices shouted and screamed in the distance. But the soldiers from the Kingdom of Kal could barely put up a fight, even though they outnumbered their opponents.
Because Kristen was A-ranked, just like Giles. And the rest of her team were low B-ranks at most. Even if there were only a handful of them, they were more than enough to deal with the first wave of guards protecting the convoy.
Not that they needed to engage in combat for long. Because they were meant to be a distraction— to lure the main bulk of the soldiers from the convoy away from the armored wagon carrying Guildmaster Evan.
“We just have to watch out for Seth the Battlemage,” Giles said as he hopped off a rock, before sliding down the hill. “He’s an A-rank [Mage]. If you see him, just back off. I’ll handle him.”
Both Sylvie and Jaden followed right behind him. Sylvie seemed to glide on the earth as the ground shifted beneath her feet— a result of her spellcasting. Meanwhile, Jaden ran down as fast as he could… only to trip and tumble all the way down.
Giles paused to stare at the boy as he crashed at the bottom of the valley. Sylvie also came to a halt right next to the leader of the Clawed Hands.
“Are you alright, Jaden?” she called out.
And Jaden groaned as he picked himself up from a small crater on the ground. He dusted himself off as he shook his head.
“I’m fine—” he started.
Only to be interrupted as an arrow flew into the back of his head.
“Take this, you brigand!” a soldier shouted as he loosed another flurry of projectiles at Jaden.
But as the second and third arrow landed on Jaden, the soldier paused. His eyes went wide as one after another, the arrows shattered upon impact.
“What…?”
Jaden stumbled back as he spun around with an annoyed look on his face. “That hurt you asshole!”
He picked up one of the broken arrowheads as the soldier turned to run. But before the soldier could get far, Jaden hurled the broken arrowhead with all his strength. And the broken arrowhead short forward so fast like it had been fired from a crossbow.
The soldier slumped over with a gaping hole in his chest as Giles and Sylvie came to a halt right next to Jaden.
The leader of the Clawed Hands smirked as he nodded at the boy. “Good work.”
That was why Jaden was called the Titanium Brute. Thanks to his Skills, it was like his skin was made of metal. He could tank most attacks by lower-leveled individuals unscathed. Even if he did feel a little bit of pain from them.
“Remember, our target is that armored wagon,” Giles said as he nodded up ahead past a group of running guards.
The convoy was in a panic. And the soldiers escorting it were thrown into disarray. Most of them were distracted by Kristen and her team as they took out guard after guard. Only a handful of them even noticed the trio of mercenaries standing at the other side of the convoy.
A group of soldiers paused as a [Mage] raised a wand and pointed at Giles. They let out a war cry, before charging forward as the [Mage] supported them with a volley of spells. Giles took a step forward as he nodded at Sylvie.
“Do your thing,” he said.
“Right— [Mass Sleep]!” She pointed at the charging soldiers.
She was a [Sorceress]. That meant she was capable of casting rather unusual spells that weren’t typically suited for dueling. But right now, her magic sufficed in distracting the soldiers. That was why she was known as the Diverting Dandelion.
Their movements slowed. They grew sluggish, before collapsing on the ground, completely unconscious. But the [Mage] was still awake. He screamed as he hurled a fireball straight at Giles.
The explosion rocked the ground as Sylvie and Jaden winced. However, Giles was no longer standing there. He appeared right next to the [Mage] with a grin plastered on his face. The [Mage] blinked, before spinning around.
And Giles just shook his head. “Don’t even try— you’ve already lost.”
With that, the [Mage] crumpled silently to the ground as blood spurted out of his chest. Giles twirled his dagger in hand as he looked back up to the armored wagon just up ahead. The convoy was starting to take notice of him. Dozens of soldiers moved to intercept him as he started to sprint forward.
“Sylvie, Jaden!” he called out to his companions. “Distract them!”
“Yes, boss!” they replied in unison as they hurriedly trailed after him.
Despite being a pair of young troublemakers who were normally a pain in the ass to deal with, they were very competent in the battlefield. Sylvie slammed a fist onto the ground, causing a localized tremor that shook the landscape. The group of soldiers stumbled and staggered, only for Jaden to ram into them a moment after.
He tore their numbers apart as Giles leapt into the sky. The leader of the Clawed Hands nodded approvingly at the two of them, taking a moment to survey the battlefield. Everything was going according to plan. Now it was up to him to complete the mission.
The [Daggermaster] tossed his dagger down onto the ground right next to the armored wagon. There was a flash of light. Just like when he had recalled the weapon into his hands. But this time, it wasn’t his dagger that was teleporting. It was him.
Giles appeared right next to his dagger as he shook his head. It was an enchantment on the dagger that allowed him to teleport to it, or to teleport it back to him. It was a powerful artifact. And it had earned him the Title of the Flying Blade.
He raised his head to look at the enchantments protecting the armored wagon. It was not going to be easy to break through. Not with his Skills at the very least. But that was why he came prepared.
He produced a scroll from his side as he nodded. He unfurled it, watching as the runes etched on its surface shone. Giles pointed it at the wagon.
“Dispel M—” he started.
And his eyes flickered as he saw a glint coming from the side. Giles leapt back just in time to avoid a blast of frost. He spun around to face a figure clad in ice. His eyes narrowed as he watched the figure step forward.
“Seth the Battlemage,” Giles said as he twirled his dagger. “So you’ve finally decided to join the fray.”
Seth shook his head, raising his staff as it was wreathed in ice. A broadsword of frost was formed at the very tip— about the size of the Battlemage himself. He slowly drew forward, dragging the weapon behind him.
“Oh? It seems you’ve done your research on who I am…” He tilted his head, peering curiously at Giles. “You’re no ordinary brigand, are you?”
The [Daggermaster] just licked his lips in response. “Perhaps— but it does not matter. Because you die here.”
And with that, Giles lashed out with his dagger. He was fast. He reached the Battlemage in an instant, slicing down with a flash of light. It was a Skill— a piercing attack that could have torn apart even titanium.
But the ice armor Seth wore took the brunt of the attack. He stumbled back, grunting as his ice armor collapsed around him. He hefted the frost broadsword and swung it down at the [Daggermaster].
But Giles deftly deflected the attack as he stepped forward. He thrusted out with a flurry of strikes, and the Battlemage raised the broadsword of frost.
The broadsword of frost began to break apart as the attacks whittled it down. Seth was A-ranked, just like the [Daggermaster]. However, the fact was that he was barely into A-rank, and those few levels separating them made a massive difference.
Giles laughed as he swung out once more. This time, he gripped his dagger with both his hands, and he felt a surge of strength flow through him. He slammed the blade against the frost broadsword— and the ice shattered.
Seth staggered forward as his weapon was destroyed. Giles just kicked the Battlemage back against the armored wagon, before striding forward.
“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” the [Daggermaster] asked. “Did you really think you could beat me with that pathetic display?”
The Battlemage chuckled as he looked weakly back up to Giles. “No— but that was enough to distract you.”
And that made the leader of the Clawed Hands pause. “Distract me…?”
Right as the words left his mouth, a powerful explosion rocked the valley. Giles was thrown back from the shockwave, seeing a pillar of smoke rise into the sky. He steadied himself as his brows snapped together.
“What is that?” he asked as he looked up in horror.
“Did you really think we didn’t expect the Adventurer’s Guild to strike back?” Seth asked, getting to his feet.
The dust and smoke began to clear as Giles swept his gaze over his surroundings. He looked on with narrowed eyes, seeing a massive crater just up ahead. Kristen and her team were lying bloodied at the very edge of the blast zone.
“Kristen…?”
“We expected adventurers— but mercenaries like you?” the Battlemage said as he shook his head. “It makes no difference.”
Giles blinked, before hearing a voice cry out in pain behind him. He spun around, watching as both Jaden flew through the air and crashed right at the [Daggermaster]’s feet.
“Jaden!” Giles called out as he rushed to the boy’s side. “What happened?”
“Sorry, boss,” another voice came in reply. Giles glanced back to see Sylvie stumbling forward, clutching her bleeding shoulder. “But I couldn’t distract her…”
“Distract who?” the [Daggermaster] asked as he took a step forward.
But Sylvie collapsed. Giles blinked. He cast his gaze over the battlefield as the realization settled in. The Clawed Hands were defeated with ease— quickly and swiftly, before he could even notice it.
He took a step back as he gritted his teeth. “We’re the Clawed Hands… we’re elites! We’re specialists at our jobs! How…?”
“Well, maybe you aren’t as good at your job as you think you are,” a burly figure said as he walked past Jaden’s fallen body.
“You’re…?” Giles stared with wide eyes. “Rokh the Bludgeoning Striker?”
The [Daggermaster] recognized the burly man in an instant. He was the one who had been placed in charge of the fortress back in Windrip. An A-rank captain who was renowned for his physical prowess.
Giles shook his head as he exclaimed. “That… makes no sense! You shouldn’t be here!”
“Oh? And what made you think I would stay in that backwater city?” Rokh said with a smug look on his face. “I left my lieutenant in charge of that shit place. I’m never returning back there ever again.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Giles snarled. “You’re abandoning Windrip just to transport a single man out of the city?”
Rokh shook his head. “That man is the reason why we’re here in the first place. Unfortunately, our King had other matters to attend to, so he took his leave. The only reason we took so long to follow after him is because we were waiting for her to arrive.”
Giles narrowed his eyes. “Her? Who is—”
And there was a flash of light. He leapt back as he dodged a black beam that cut the ground open. He frowned, looking up at a black-haired girl as she descended from the sky.
The leader of the Clawed Hands paused as he saw who it was. His eyes widened, and his legs shook. He took a step back as he said her name.
“Eloise the Dark Wizard,” he whispered. “S-rank mercenary— what are you doing here?”
She just smiled at him in response. “I have been hired by the [Hero King] himself to ensure that his cargo is safely transported back to his nation. It is a pleasure to meet you, Giles the Flying Blade.”
“That’s…” Giles hadn’t even known that she had been in the city. If he had known that she’d be involved, he wouldn’t have taken this job. He pursed his lips as she glanced dismissively at Jaden and Sylvie.
“I have heard so much about the Clawed Hands— I was excited to see you in action. But…” She shook her head as she covered her mouth. “I must say, you have been nothing but a disappointment.”
Giles ground his teeth together. “Why would the [Hero King] hire an S-rank mercenary to transport a damn guildmaster? Just what is going on?”
“I do not know why my clients hire me,” Eloise said simply as she took a step forward. “I simply complete my task. I am sure you understand that as much as me. That is why—”
She raised a hand, pointing straight at him as his eyes went round. Her fingers cracked with a black electricity as she spoke simply.
“As much as I would love to continue this conversation, I have to annihilate you.”
“No—” Giles protested.
But a blast of dark lightning shot forward as he opened his mouth. He couldn’t even react in time. He winced, raising his dagger protectively. He knew it wouldn’t save him. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against her.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the searing pain. Giles knew that he was as good as dead. He accepted this outcome. He wanted to get over it as quickly as possible. But… death never came.
Giles blinked as he heard the thundering crackle of the dark lightning come and go. He saw the flash of light flicker and dissipate. He looked down at himself, seeing that he was still in one piece.
And he sighed in relief. “I’m… alive? But how—”
He looked back up to see a figure standing before him. A brown-haired woman dressed in strange clothes. His eyes narrowed as he saw an impossibly torn and tattered cloak blowing with the wind behind her. She held a rusty sword in the air, and Giles couldn’t help but stare at her in awe.
Because she deflected the attack with ease. Even Eloise looked on with a surprised look on her face as the brown-haired woman just lowered her blade. Seth frowned, and Captain Rokh peered at her suspiciously.
“Who are you?” Giles asked with wide eyes.
“I’m Amelia,” the brown-haired woman said simply. “And I’m here to save Evan.”
Author's Notes: Just so you know, book 2 is over on patreon and you can read the start of book 3 if you subscribe now :) You can read up to 15 chapters ahead on my patreon here! Join my discord and subscribe to my subreddit! Or follow me on twitter!Previous Next Read Ahead on my Patreon
2023.05.28 15:19 AFishInASeaOfReddit Is this a fossil? (North America)
 | Sorry if the pictures aren't great. Found near a fair number of rugose horn and tabulate corals (though many of those were found in a different color of rock). Full rock is about 2 inches, and the fossil is probably around a centimeter. submitted by AFishInASeaOfReddit to fossilid [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 15:00 blueboy714 White Mountain - I Love Ireland - 1000 pieces
 | submitted by blueboy714 to Jigsawpuzzles [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 14:17 Mallobvf A deer and Tiger are going home after a full day of acting in National Geographic
 | submitted by Mallobvf to AnimalMemes [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 13:55 _Triple_ [STORE] 900+ KNIVES/GLOVES/SKINS, 50.000$+ INVENTORY. M9 Fade, M4 Poseidon, BFK Freehand, Crimson Kimono, Nomad Fade, Skeleton, Kara Lore, Bayo Autotronic, AWP Fade, Kara Damas, BFK Ultra, Kara Freehand, Kara Bright, M9 Damas, Omega, Tiger Strike, Flip MF, Bayo Tiger, Deagle Blaze, Talon & More
Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory
Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.
All Buyouts are listed in cash value.
KNIVES
★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500
★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822
★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616
⎯★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300
★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050
★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629
★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326
★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233
⎯★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110
★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840
★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784
★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759
⎯★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801
★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751
⎯★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156
★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544
★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318
⎯★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646
★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574
★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552
★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257
★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255
★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287
⎯★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461
★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436
★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353
★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212
★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129
★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123
★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375
★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363
★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269
★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192
★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159
★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126
⎯★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616
★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412
★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227
⎯★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214
★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192
★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105
⎯★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216
★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198
★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111
⎯★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368
★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228
★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201
★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108
★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105
★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99
★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85
⎯★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700
★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223
★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203
★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191
★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127
⎯★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199
★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138
★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111
⎯★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146
★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168
⎯★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476
★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375
⎯★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137
★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608
★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305
★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97
GLOVES
★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204
★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63
⎯★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215
★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305
★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140
★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137
★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75
⎯★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359
★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229
★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77
★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48
⎯★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739
★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733
★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292
⎯★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212
★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160
★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101
⎯★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67
★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59
⎯★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65
★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62
WEAPONS
AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130
AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76
AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70
AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72
⎯AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139
AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93
AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79
AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68
StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55
⎯Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623
Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81
Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54
⎯M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434
StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55
⎯M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465
M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55
M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50
⎯USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72
USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69
StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139
⎯AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234
P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147
Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61
Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory
Some items on the list may no longer be available or are still locked, visit My Inventory for more details.
Send a Trade Offer for fastest response. I consider all offers.
Add me for discuss if there is a serious offer that needs to be discussed.
2023.05.28 13:51 YourLocalCO2 THIS NAME- (also the second picture, nice kits.)
 | submitted by YourLocalCO2 to ClanGen [link] [comments] |
2023.05.28 13:43 Waluigi_time3 Cross training to improve 2k over summer
Had a pretty intense spring season with morning practice 2-3x a week, afternoon 6x and lifting 3-4x a week, and missed qualifying for nationals by a photo finish, so I'm pretty burnt out from rowing. I still want to get faster and quality next year, so what kind of cross training is best over summer? Currently I run, box, lift and have been doing some pretty light and technical morning rows, and I'm looking into adding rock climbing into the mix too. What do you all recommend?
submitted by Waluigi_time3 to Rowing [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 13:20 tacon8 New Car/No Howard
 | Just got a new car that includes months of free Sirius. Guess who's not mentioned in any of the advertising or welcome messages I've gotten. submitted by tacon8 to howardstern [link] [comments] No Wiggy |
2023.05.28 13:03 FelicitySmoak_ On This Day In Michael Jackson HIStory - May 28th
 | 1971 - The Jackson 5 play at the Spectrum (now closed - 2009) in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. submitted by FelicitySmoak_ to MichaelJackson [link] [comments] 1988 - Michael's duet with Stevie Wonder , "Get It", from Stevie's album Characters peaks at #80 on the Hot 100 Chart while it was at #6 on the R&B chart 1989 - Michael was one of the few winners present at the Black Radio Exclusive awards show at the Universal Amphitheater in Los Angeles. He was honored as the "Triple Crown Winner for Outstanding Achievement in Pop, Rock and Soul." The elegantly laminated plaque has a black and gold edging, with purple printing on a faux-marble background, with a stylized photo image of Michael in his trademark black fedora. 1997 - His 2nd day in Poland starts with a stop at the presidential palace where Michael is received by the first lady. In his quest for a residence in Poland, he then visits the luxury Hotel Bristol. Price for the hotel ended up being too high. He then went to the Warsaw City Hall where he signed a “preliminary letter of intent” to develop a 'Michael Jackson’s Family Entertainment Park', in the Polish capital. https://preview.redd.it/l8aax0vbmf2b1.jpg?width=800&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2058be4c166fe6a5d16dc17142e7910fac7aad1f “My dream is to appeal to the child that lives in the heart of every man and woman on this planet and to create something in Poland that is so unique and so unusual that it cannot be experienced in any other place", he saidThe letter mentioned no price, but Jackson’s business manager, Tarak Ben Ammar, said in an interview that estimates of Jackson’s contribution range between $100 million and $300 million--modest sums by Western theme park standards. Poland would add an unknown amount. https://preview.redd.it/v3vax6femf2b1.jpg?width=636&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fe01e404092b93a587184acbb64809e82e8675fe https://preview.redd.it/svjneycfmf2b1.jpg?width=800&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e9994183672ab7fe0eb2496407b91cafc3196922 " I would also like to tell a great truth, I have traveled all over the world six times and have been everywhere, but nowhere I liked it more than in Poland. A visit to Poland is the fulfillment of my childhood dreams...." He shops at the Kidiland toy store, reportedly in the amount of $670,000. He then goes to the children's hospital, with his arms loaded with gifts. https://preview.redd.it/kok5pazgmf2b1.jpg?width=639&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3ebb70051f68409f937c0775426c55ff67f9009c https://preview.redd.it/ncl93ephmf2b1.jpg?width=594&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=31621e03ff28ea84d04b050dcb0d9e0a1a403c49 Next he takes a helicopter to Lubiaz, in order to see Cistercian Abbey of Lubiaz, wich he also planned to purchase. Accompanied by Professor Marek Kwiatkowski, who guided him during his visit, Michael spends 45 minutes marveling at the Baroque architecture and the relics. He'll even try a little "heehee" in the middle of the Hall des Princes to test the acoustics! Michael, who wanted to settle in Poland, already saw himself owning this old building, despite the millions of dollars in restoration to be expected. https://preview.redd.it/ih1lgr0jmf2b1.jpg?width=389&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4d38bf32bbf497853881a2ee5ee22587d7672d2b In the evening, he flies to Bremen, Germany where in three days he will begin the 2nd leg of his HIStory Tour. https://preview.redd.it/2ea4068kmf2b1.jpg?width=547&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3cb5c1e7f75c3f9226c6c3fa9752b601cec7b5ca https://preview.redd.it/di920gqnmf2b1.jpg?width=736&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=72307480617262d831871b2f5b9e0d55a927a11a The plans to build the amusement park at a nearby military airport won approval from state officials in February 1998. Michael asks for sketches to be drawn up for the proposed theme parks, however, following the project’s approval and a huge hiatus, the army owning the airport does not agree to make it available for the park. Two grounds pointed out by the government will also be denied due to local protests. The Polish government abandons this project altogether and nothing will come out of it 2004 - Santa Barbara County Superior Court Judge Rodney Melville has ordered a trial-setting conference hearing today. Thomas Mesereau, Brian Oxman & Joe Jackson go to the courthouse; Michael's appearance isn't required. They argue for a reduction in his $3-million bail and seek an order to force prosecutors to move faster in sharing evidence. In accusing the prosecution of moving too slowly in giving the defense access to the evidence, as required by law, Mesereau said Michael's right to a fair trial was “jeopardized by the undue delay of discovery.” “The investigation of this case involves dozens of, if not over 100 witnesses, voluminous documents and expert examination on a variety of topics,” Jackson’s lawyers wrote. “The defense needs ample time to conduct follow-up witness interviews, locate and interview rebuttal witnesses and conduct its own forensic examinations, among other things.” Prosecutors have responded that they have turned over vast amounts of evidence already and are processing the information they have as quickly as possible. They also are strongly resisting an attempt by Mesereau to substantially reduce Jackson’s bail on grounds that it is much higher than the bail for other defendants facing similar charges. The bail-reduction request notes that Jackson has no prior record, arrests or convictions & that he has fully complied with all conditions of his release on bail, including attending court when ordered. “Mr. Jackson’s ties to this community are substantial,” the defense motion states. “The record reveals that Mr. Jackson is not a flight risk or a danger to the community. It is also apparent that Mr. Jackson intends to confront and vigorously defend rather than evade the allegations in this case.” Though Mesereau noted that Santa Barbara County’s bail schedule calls for bail of about $135,000 for the conspiracy and molestation charges in the grand jury complaint, prosecutors oppose the request on grounds that Jackson is a flight risk and that his wealth should be a factor in retaining high bail. Melville said early in the proceedings that he hoped a trial could begin before the end of this year, but legal experts and many criminal lawyers predicted that would be impossible. September 13 is set as the date for the trial to begin On another legal front, Janet Arvizo filed a claim against county child protection officials accusing them of moving too slowly in investigating leaks to the media that were helpful to Jackson’s defense. Before a psychiatrist who had examined Gavin told Santa Barbara County officials that the child had been molested, Welfare officials had interviewed the family after Living With Michael Jackson aired in early 2003 A memo written by authorities after Jackson’s arrest said the family had denied any sexual abuse. The memo was subsequently released on a website. Attorney Larry R. Feldman, representing the Arvizos, said he filed the claim, a necessary step before a lawsuit, to force county officials to speedily conclude their investigation to ensure that such a breach of confidentiality “will never occur again to another innocent child.” 2006 - Michael visited a Tokyo orphanage and told a group of 140 excited children "I love you" in Japanese. Michael's van was swarmed by 100+ fans as he arrived. Inside the Seibi Gakuen children's home, he watched a performance of traditional music and dance by the children before speaking briefly on stage. He later shook hands and signed autographs for the children. https://preview.redd.it/5lt7jdhqmf2b1.jpg?width=767&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7d3a34ad3850b3460555a46dee82abca40bdbb9a Michael's children and Grace visited with the children on this tour of the Japanese orphanage. https://preview.redd.it/f9q2mu3tmf2b1.jpg?width=218&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a3110b0dca7829696b7bbdb23ff3a6afc2557bbf "I look forward to seeing old friends and saying hello to my huge fan base in Japan who, like my other fans around the world, have for so many years consistently shown their love and support to me and my family."- MJ"Everyone couldn't believe such a big international star was visiting us," said Kiyoko Mito, headmistress of the Christian-run school. "The children only believed me after seeing the news yesterday that Michael Jackson was actually in Japan," she said 2009 - Having not heard from AEG regarding his salary, Conrad Murray sent another email to AEG & receives a response from Tim Wooley https://preview.redd.it/53qvtjwumf2b1.png?width=513&format=png&auto=webp&s=c048d2d7ca288f12a6a423237ced8234dba40b05 https://preview.redd.it/tsc7mzuvmf2b1.png?width=513&format=png&auto=webp&s=521de2b6de9a122d1ae45ba25caf39a5b7fb76a2 2013 - Jackson v AEG Trial Day 18 Katherine, Janet, Rebbie and Randy Jackson are in court. Only one of the siblings was allowed in the courtroom as they are potential witnesses. Janet accompanied Katherine during morning session while Rebbie was with her during the afternoon session. Paul Gongaware Testimony Jackson direct Paul Gongaware is one of the defendants in the case. He's an adverse witness called by the plaintiffs. Gongaware is Co-CEO of Concerts West, part of AEG Live. Gongaware has toured with Beach Boys, Led Zeppelin and is currently on tour with The Rolling Stones. He worked for Jerry Weintraub in the 80s He produced Prince's tour in 2004. He has not promoted/produced tours since. Gongaware has not talked to Prince after the tour Gongaware was a CPA licensed in NY and Washington. He said he believes he's still licensed but hasn't checked status since there's no need Gongaware testified that landing Jackson, whom he felt was the biggest artist of his era, was huge for AEG. In a 2008 email to AEG Live President and Chief Executive Randy Phillips, Gongaware described how the company should approach Jackson and his manager about a possible comeback tour: We need to start at the fundamentals. How we do it. The difference between [Live Nation] and us is huge. We are artist-based, they are Wall Street-driven. We are smart people. We are completely honest and transparent with everything we do. That's how [founder] Phil [Anschutz] wants itGongaware said he worked on an Elvis Presley tour. Panish asked if Elvis died of drug overdose, and Gongaware said "Yes". Gongaware replied to a condolences' email on July 5, 2009: I was working on the Elvis tour when he died, so I kind of knew what to expect. Still quite a shock "So you knew what to expect when Michael Jackson passed away, is that right, sir?", Brian Panish asked.Despite working as a tour promoter for 37 years -- including for Led Zeppelin, the Grateful Dead and many others -- Gongaware testified that the only artist he ever knew that was using drugs on tour was Rick James Panish asked about working for Jackson 5, Gongaware said had no interaction with Michael. Gongaware was a logistics manager on the Dangerous tour in 92-93. Panish said Michael made $100 million and donated it to charity. Gongaware said he didn't know When Gongaware met Jackson was with Colonel Parker (Elvis' manager) in Las Vegas. Michael had wanted to meet the Colonel Gongaware explained the difference between being tour manager and managing the tour. He talked about Michael's History tour Panish: "You knew that Michael had been to rehab during the dangerous tour?"Gongaware said he never knew MJ was involved with drugs until after the end of the Dangerous tour. Gongaware told LAPD he was aware of Jackson's previous use of pills/painkillers but did not want to get involved. Gongaware had known for years that Michael Jackson was taking painkillers but wasn't aware he was abusing them until MJ abruptly canceled his Dangerous world tour in the early 1990s to enter rehab. Gongaware said he knew of "two occasions" when Michael used painkillers between shows, but he claimed he didn't grasp the scope of the Michael's sickness until the taped 1993 announcement. "I would dispute knowing that he had a problem. I wasn't aware that there were problems", Gongaware said Gongaware said he knew a doctor was medicating Jackson during the Dangerous tour but did not find out why the tour was eventually cut short. "Didn't have time,I was just dealing with what was in front of me", he said Panish said Dr. Finkelstein testified under oath that Gongaware knew Michael had problems with painkillers before the Dangerous tour ended. Panish: "Do you dispute that?" (Finkelstein testimony)Gongaware said Dr. Finkelstein is his doctor and friend and that they talk off and on, but he doesn't know specifics of the doctor's deposition. Dr. Finkelstein said he gave MJ painkillers after the concert in Bangkok following Michael's scalp surgery. In Gongaware's video deposition: "Did you ever ask Dr. Finkelstein if he treated Michael during the Dangerous tour?"Another part of Gongaware's video depo: He said yes, he "occasionally treated Michael Jackson on the Dangerous tour" Panish: "Were you always honest with Michael?"Panish elicited contradictory testimony asking over and over about Gongaware's memory, how long he spent with lawyers to discuss testimony. On the Bad Tour MJ sold out 10 stadiums at 75,000 tickets per night. Panish: "That's a pretty big number?""No one knows how many shows we can get with Mikey," said Gongaware. Panish asked about name "Mikey" - he said he used it occasionally Email on 2/27/09 from Gongaware to Phillips: We are holding all of the risk, if Michael won't approve it we go without his approval.We let Mikey know just what it will cost him in terms of him making money, and then we go with or without him in London. We cannot be forced into stopping this, which Michael will try to do because he is lazy and constantly changes his mind to fit his immediate wants.Gongaware said his use "Mikey" was affectionate, not disparaging, and that the 'lazy' crack amounted to "poor choice of words" but one that accurately reflected how Michael "really didn't like to rehearse. He didn't like to do these kinds of things." "People were aware at this point there would be a press conference. Michael wouldn't show up at the conference, it'd cost money," Gongaware said. "It wasn't much risk at all, we hadn't spent money," Gongaware said about that point of the tour. This was prior to news conference. Gongaware said the situation in London, where they constantly referred to Michael as "Wacko Jacko" would impact marketability to sell tickets "He doesn't want to do this kind of things, but it was important to show Michael to the world if he wanted to do a show," Gongaware explained Jurors were shown several e-mails from Gongaware that Jackson lawyers suggested were evidence that AEG Live deliberately misled Jackson about how much money he would make from his comeback concerts and how many days he would have to rest between shows. Gongaware wrote to his boss, AEG Live President Randy Phillips, that they should present gross ticket sales numbers to Jackson, not the percentage of the net profits, during contract talks. "Maybe gross is a better number to throw around if we use numbers with Mikey listening"Panish talked about an email Gongaware sent to his secretary suggesting that she design a concert calendar for Jackson using light tan colors for show dates, while drawing attention to his rest days Don't want the shows to stand out too much when Michael looks at it.Less contrast between work and off. Maybe off days in a contrasting soft color. Put 'OFF' in each off day after July 8, as well. Figure it out so it looks like he's not working so much. Panish: "Did you want to change the color of the schedule to show Michael would not be working so hard?"Gongaware said it would be obvious when Michael would be working and not and he wasn't trying to trick him. Email on 3/25/09 from Phillips to Gongaware: "We need to pull the plug now. I will explain" Panish: "Mr. Phillips wanted to pull the plug on the show, right sir?""Kenny wanted the pull because the way she (Faye) handled situations," Gongaware explained. "She tried to control access to Michael and Kenny didn't like that" Karen Faye expressed strong opinion that the tour as dangerous and impractical for MJ. Panish asked about a chain of emails where Gongaware said the pulling the plug refers to Ms. Faye. "I believe he was," Gongaware repeated. In another March 25, 2009, email, Ortega wrote Gongaware that it was Faye's "strong opinion that this is dangerous and impractical with consideration to Michael's health and ability to perform.". "I thought he was in good shape at the press conference, I was there," Gongaware said at the deposition. Gongaware was at O2 arena and Phillips was with Michael. "Michael was late, Randy [Phillips] was saying I'm trying to get him going, I'm trying to get him going".As to Dr. Conrad Murray, Gongaware said there was 1 rehearsal he said hello to him. "It was basically a hello, on the floor at the Forum. Mikey asked me to retain him. I never hired him"Panish played an interview of Phillips to SkyTV after Michael died: "The guy is willing 2 leave his practice for large sum of money, so we hired him""I was told Michael wanted him as his doctor for the show," Gongaware said. Gongaware said Michael did not have any illness that he knew of. Gongaware: "He had taken a physical, he passed the physical and from what I understand there was nothing wrong with him. Maybe some hay fever"Gongaware said he received an email from Bob Taylor that everything was fine and that Michael had passed the physical. Gongaware said he never saw the results of the tests and doesn't know who saw them. Panish showed video deposition of Gongaware and a declaration he signed about a month before giving the deposition. They contradict themselves.At first, Gongaware insisted he did no negotiating with Murray, but, confronted with emails and his previous testimony, he changed his position and said, "The only thing I did with Dr. Murray was negotiate a price." Gongaware said that neither he nor anyone at the AEG investigated Murray's background or credentials Panish: "First you said how much did you want?"(to Dr. Murray)Gongaware said Dr. Murray had been Michael's personal doctor for the past 3 years. He said he did not know how many times MJ had seen the doctor. "Michael insisted on him, recommended him, and that was good enough for me, it was not for me to tell him who his doctor should be" Gongaware said "The fact that he had been Michael Jackson's personal physician for three years was good enough for me," Gongaware said. He said that Murray initially asked for $5 million to travel to London with Jackson and tend to him during the tour. "I just told him it wasn't going to happen," he said, recalling that Jackson then suggested offering him $150,000 a month. "Michael Jackson insisted on it and recommended him and it was not for me to tell him no," said Gongaware. "I wanted to provide what was necessary for him to do his job...He wanted a doctor and I wanted him to be healthy." Even after the offer of $150,000, Murray wasn't satisfied. "He started saying he wanted more and I said, 'The offer is coming directly from the artist," Gongaware said. Minutes later, he said Murray accepted. "Did that seem desperate to you?" asked Panish."We agreed on what the compensation was going to be, but there were a lot of issues to be resolved," Gongaware said. Gongaware said he recalled meeting with Dr. Murray where he was told the doctor was going to take care of the medical licensing in London. Gongaware and Timm Wooley are longtime friends. They are currently working on The Rolling Stones tour. Gongaware said he negotiated the price for Dr. Murray, but didn't negotiate the contract. Gongaware explained that he didn't do the negotiation, he would normally refer that to Wooley. Dr. Finkelstein and Gongaware have been friends for 35-plus years. Gongaware said he never offered Dr. Finkelstein the job of being MJ's doctor and said the doctor would be mistaken if he testified otherwise. Gongaware told the jury he called Dr. Finkelstein to ask what a fair price for a tour doctor would be. Doctor told him it was $10,000/week. As to Dr. Finkelstein wanting to be the tour doctor, Gongaware said he didn't recall specifically, but knew he wanted it."After his death we may have talked, but I don't recall specifics," Gongaware said. Gongaware said he sees Dr. Finkelstein a few times a year, but the subject of Michael never came up. Panish asked Gongaware if Dr. Finkelstein wanted to know if Michael was clean or using drugs. Gongaware said he didn't recall the conversation Panish asked: "You could have told Dr. Murray at any time that his services were no longer needed, couldn't you?"Gongaware told nanny, Grace Rwamba, that her services would not be needed anymore because AEG was cutting down on Michael's expenses "I never read the contract, I was there when Michael signed it, but didn't see what was in it," Gongaware said, "Doctor Murray was 100% Michael's cost" Based on the contract, Gongaware said 95% of the production expenses were Michael's responsibility, 5% AEG. Panish: "Who decided there was a need for a written contract with Dr. Murray?"Gongaware said that if the tour went forward, Dr. Murray would've made $1.5 million for 10 months. Ortega would've made almost that. Gongaware said although AEG never did a background check on Murray, in his view they had "checked out" the doctor according to their standard practices. "When we check out someone, we either rely on if we know the person or if they're known in the industry or if they're recommended by the artist & in this case, Dr. Murray was recommended by the artist, in fact, the artist insisted" Panish pressed Gongaware: "You did nothing to verify anything about Dr. Murray, isn't that true, sir?"Panish asked Gongaware if he approved budgets for April-July including Dr. Murray as production expense. He said he didn't know which budgets he approved. "It's my job to get that show on the road," Gongaware said. Gongaware said he had to know how much the production had spent at any given time, but didn't have time to read the budget. Panish: "Do you think you're good at your job, sir?"Gongaware testified that he didn't pay attention to the tour budgets that he approved, even though he was the tour manager.Paul Gongaware said he didn't read through the budgets, instead trusting that the tour accountant knew what he was talking about. Gongaware testified that Dr. Murray's salary, although included in the company's budget for several months, wasn't something he saw as an actual payment that would be made. "If there's a potential for cost we put it in our budget so there are no surprises later", he said. Gongaware often pleaded poor memory of events. He said he may have met with Jackson as many as 10 times, but could remember only two of the meetings and only one when Murray was present Gongaware said he doesn't remember how many meetings he attended at Carolwood house. He didn't recall a meeting where a vase was broken. "There was a meeting where he signed the contract," Gongaware recalled, saying there were more but he doesn't remember specifics. At the meeting in early June, Gongaware said he was present along with Kenny, Randy, Frank DiLeo, Dr. Murray and Michael. "The meeting was about making sure Michael and Dr. Murray had everything they needed to care for Michael," Gongaware explained. "Yes, we did talk about health-related issues. It was more a general meeting about what Dr. Murray would need", Gongaware said. He had told the police the topic of the meeting was Jackson's overall health ( i.e., diet, stamina and his weight) He remembered that Jackson arrived late from a doctor's appointment and had slurred speech. Gongaware said Michael Jackson "was a bit off". "He was just coming back from visiting Dr. Klein. I believe he was under the influence of something. That was the only time I saw him like that", Gongaware said. Jackson had missed a rehearsal and was thought to be dancing at home. However they discovered he was only watching video. Doctor Murray was receptive to their concerns and indicated he would take care of the situation Court Transcript |
2023.05.28 12:59 th3dankmemer Help tuning a 14x8 Snare
I bought this 14x8 Ludwig Black magic, black nickel over brass snare. I have a Evans heavyweight on the top and a Evans 300 on the bottom.
As a disclaimer this is my first snare drum so I’m kind of a noob to tuning. Have been playing e Kits for a while though. I’ve watched almost every tuning video but early they are for deep drums like this.
I just can’t get this snare to sound right. Every time I try to tune it there is just way too many overtones - the ghost notes just sound like a blended mess and the rimshots have no pop or life to them. There is also this sound of snare wire overtones, like the wires aren’t bedded properly and it gives off this ringing buzz. I’ve tried adjusting the wires looser and tighter but I end up maxing out the wires tension screw. Should I take them off again and reset where they are tied or is it the snare head tuning that’s the issue? Also cross stick doesn’t even sound like cross stick, just sounds like I’m hitting the shell of the snare with the tip of my stick. I’m pretty convinced it’s my bottom head tuning but I’m open to all suggestions. Anyway how do you guys tune deep snares?
Edit: I’m looking for a rock sound with a strong pop to the back beat
submitted by th3dankmemer to drums [link] [comments]
As a disclaimer this is my first snare drum so I’m kind of a noob to tuning. Have been playing e Kits for a while though. I’ve watched almost every tuning video but early they are for deep drums like this.
I just can’t get this snare to sound right. Every time I try to tune it there is just way too many overtones - the ghost notes just sound like a blended mess and the rimshots have no pop or life to them. There is also this sound of snare wire overtones, like the wires aren’t bedded properly and it gives off this ringing buzz. I’ve tried adjusting the wires looser and tighter but I end up maxing out the wires tension screw. Should I take them off again and reset where they are tied or is it the snare head tuning that’s the issue? Also cross stick doesn’t even sound like cross stick, just sounds like I’m hitting the shell of the snare with the tip of my stick. I’m pretty convinced it’s my bottom head tuning but I’m open to all suggestions. Anyway how do you guys tune deep snares?
Edit: I’m looking for a rock sound with a strong pop to the back beat
2023.05.28 12:23 ConsCom1949 Public transit like bus, metro, train, high speed train, monorail etc should be not for profit.
CMV: Non-luxury public passenger transit (bus, metro, rail, monorail, high-speed rail, trams...) should be not for profit
Reason 1: Not-for-profit transit companies typically tend to be cheaper than for-profit ones. Compare Indian Railway, China Railway and former Japan National Railway with Amtrak, Japan Railway and Taiwan Railway. Because NFP ones typically run at a loss or just make ends meet.
Reason 2: Being not for profit can stimulate the travel industry and bring indirect economic benefits that by far outweigh the amount of state subsidy. Metro has supported the development of the real estate market, generated tax revenues, and been the key to a region's economic vitality. Railways can facilitate efficient travel of passengers and freight. Buses are convenient, high-effienciency door-to-door travel which can help people living in marginalised geographical areas travel easier.
Reason 3: Public transit is low-carbon. By encouraging it we can vastly reduce our carbon emission.
Reason 4: People using metro, trains, buses etc are typically low to medium income households, while peope using airlines, cars, taxis, or even private jets are middle to high income. It's like taxing the rich and redistributing the wealth to low income groups in the form of state subsidized travel.
Reason 5: By being not for profit, a company can extend its service to sparsely populated areas. Else, these people are gonna have no ways to travel. What for-profit company would want to run buses and trains to "nowhere"? But these people need to go outside for education, medical treatment, work, travel, etc. Also sparsely populated areas tend to overlap with poounderdeveloped ones.
View Poll
submitted by ConsCom1949 to IdeologyPolls [link] [comments]
Reason 1: Not-for-profit transit companies typically tend to be cheaper than for-profit ones. Compare Indian Railway, China Railway and former Japan National Railway with Amtrak, Japan Railway and Taiwan Railway. Because NFP ones typically run at a loss or just make ends meet.
Reason 2: Being not for profit can stimulate the travel industry and bring indirect economic benefits that by far outweigh the amount of state subsidy. Metro has supported the development of the real estate market, generated tax revenues, and been the key to a region's economic vitality. Railways can facilitate efficient travel of passengers and freight. Buses are convenient, high-effienciency door-to-door travel which can help people living in marginalised geographical areas travel easier.
Reason 3: Public transit is low-carbon. By encouraging it we can vastly reduce our carbon emission.
Reason 4: People using metro, trains, buses etc are typically low to medium income households, while peope using airlines, cars, taxis, or even private jets are middle to high income. It's like taxing the rich and redistributing the wealth to low income groups in the form of state subsidized travel.
Reason 5: By being not for profit, a company can extend its service to sparsely populated areas. Else, these people are gonna have no ways to travel. What for-profit company would want to run buses and trains to "nowhere"? But these people need to go outside for education, medical treatment, work, travel, etc. Also sparsely populated areas tend to overlap with poounderdeveloped ones.
View Poll
2023.05.28 12:01 ConsCom1949 CMV: Non-luxury public passenger transit (bus, metro, rail, monorail, high-speed rail, trams...) should be not for profit
Reason 1: Not-for-profit transit companies typically tend to be cheaper than for-profit ones. Compare Indian Railway, China Railway and former Japan National Railway with Amtrak, Japan Railway and Taiwan Railway. Because NFP ones typically run at a loss or just make ends meet.
Reason 2: Being not for profit can stimulate the travel industry and bring indirect economic benefits that by far outweigh the amount of state subsidy. Metro has supported the development of the real estate market, generated tax revenues, and been the key to a region's economic vitality. Railways can facilitate efficient travel of passengers and freight. Buses are convenient, high-effienciency door-to-door travel which can help people living in marginalised geographical areas travel easier.
Reason 3: Public transit is low-carbon. By encouraging it we can vastly reduce our carbon emission.
Reason 4: People using metro, trains, buses etc are typically low to medium income households, while peope using airlines, cars, taxis, or even private jets are middle to high income. It's like taxing the rich and redistributing the wealth to low income groups in the form of state subsidized travel.
Reason 5: By being not for profit, a company can extend its service to sparsely populated areas. Else, these people are gonna have no ways to travel. What for-profit company would want to run buses and trains to "nowhere"? But these people need to go outside for education, medical treatment, work, travel, etc. Also sparsely populated areas tend to overlap with poounderdeveloped ones.
submitted by ConsCom1949 to changemyview [link] [comments]
Reason 2: Being not for profit can stimulate the travel industry and bring indirect economic benefits that by far outweigh the amount of state subsidy. Metro has supported the development of the real estate market, generated tax revenues, and been the key to a region's economic vitality. Railways can facilitate efficient travel of passengers and freight. Buses are convenient, high-effienciency door-to-door travel which can help people living in marginalised geographical areas travel easier.
Reason 3: Public transit is low-carbon. By encouraging it we can vastly reduce our carbon emission.
Reason 4: People using metro, trains, buses etc are typically low to medium income households, while peope using airlines, cars, taxis, or even private jets are middle to high income. It's like taxing the rich and redistributing the wealth to low income groups in the form of state subsidized travel.
Reason 5: By being not for profit, a company can extend its service to sparsely populated areas. Else, these people are gonna have no ways to travel. What for-profit company would want to run buses and trains to "nowhere"? But these people need to go outside for education, medical treatment, work, travel, etc. Also sparsely populated areas tend to overlap with poounderdeveloped ones.
2023.05.28 12:00 AutoModerator 🌳 Nature Walk Photo Megathread - May 2023
Share the interesting photos you've accumulated from the past month while you've been out walking or hiking.
Did you come across animal tracks, berries, flowers, rocks, moss, insects, animals, streams, fossils, algae, bird nests, blossoms, waterfalls, or beautiful landscapes? Post it here!
Did you take a before and after photo of a trash pick up? Post that here too!
submitted by AutoModerator to NonTheisticPaganism [link] [comments]
Did you come across animal tracks, berries, flowers, rocks, moss, insects, animals, streams, fossils, algae, bird nests, blossoms, waterfalls, or beautiful landscapes? Post it here!
Did you take a before and after photo of a trash pick up? Post that here too!