mrs-denton - Tumblr blog

[mrs-denton]

Do you ever realize just how disconnected you are from pop culture? Like you’ve carved out your little slice of the internet but every once in a while, there’s a huge scandal or someone goes viral or they get cancelled and you have no idea who that is so you find yourself googling people with names like Glorp Monroe or Young Pantyliner or whatever and suddenly you think “...is this how my parents felt when I was a teenager trying to understand the weird shit I was into?”

[mrs-denton]

Paul Fanfic Pt. 3

A day later, Bebe heard a knock at her window. Paul, she immediately thought. Getting up from bed, she trekked over to the window, and sure enough, Paul’s characteristic eyes peered at her from the night. She let out a gasp and opened the window to quickly let him in. Once inside, he instantly held her in his arms and kissed her passionately, pressing her up against him. “Oh my god, you’re okay . . .” she sighed in between his kisses. “I missed you so much,” he said. “But I’m finally here.” “I missed you too,” she replied. “What happened?” Offering him a drink, she led him to the living room where she poured him a glass of water. Paul couldn’t drink alcohol for another week because of Tong’s procedure and because of how erratic his nanites were behaving at one point that he couldn’t stimulate them. Paul was still under supervision, and Bebe made a joke about both of them having to stop drinking for a while. Then he continued, and both spent hours talking about everything that happened—JC, the Illuminati, Bob Page, Helios, the Collapse, Area 51, and the entirety of Majestic Twelve’s plan that was stopped by the two brothers. Bebe was intrigued and in awe at Paul’s accounts, but kept listening. She already knew enough to understand exactly what he was talking about, but didn’t know exactly how deep the rabbit hole went until that moment. “. . . And so when JC merged with Helios, the entire merge took so much energy from sector four that it created instabilities in the reactors. Running for his life, he barely made it out of the underground bunker before everything inside exploded; Page, the Aquinas hub—gone. Tong got the small government he wanted, and Everett got Page dead. But neither were counting on JC to merge with Helios. I suppose everyone got something they wanted at the expense of another thing. Tong wanted to decentralize power, but JC took it all himself, and Morgan Everett is powerless without communications.” “Aren’t you worried that Everett will strike back in the future?” she asked. “That’s what I’m trying to prevent,” he replied. “Right now, Everett’s weak without the net and his gadgets. But give it enough time and the same factions, possibly even new ones, are going to be fighting for power again.” “Exactly,” she said. “It’s all a matter of time. History repeats itself again and again. But what do you mean, ‘prevent?’” “I was just about to get to that,” he replied before taking a sip of water and his expression turned more serious. There was a pain in his eyes. “After JC merged with Helios, we found out that it was a faulty merge. JC didn’t have the correct nanites that were ready for Helios. He started getting sick, real sick, so we had to freeze him. He’s somewhere far away.” An expression of melancholy appeared softly on his hard face. A certain gentleness about Paul Denton appeared like a shawl over the heavy bones and contours of his face. Bebe felt for him. “Wow Paul,” she said. “I’m so sorry . . .” She gently took his hand and kissed it, their fingers interlaced. “We’ll be fine, though,” he said and kissed the top of her head, bringing her close to him. “I’m already thinking of a way to get him back. He must come back. No matter how long it takes.” “Fix his nanites,” she said. “Exactly. I’ll explain more later on, everything that I’ve said is really sensitive and no one must overhear,” he said. “It doesn’t help that every law enforcement agency is looking for you,” she said. “You and your brother are on every newspaper.” “Which is why we have to leave,” he said. “I came back to get you. We have to leave New York before they start tracking us down.” “I’ve already packed,” she said, getting up to return to her room to show him the suitcases. “What’s the plan?” “We’ll take your car down to the beach where nobody will see us," Paul said. "Jock said he would meet us there. Then we're leaving for Hong Kong while we plan where to move in the future. Tong’s base is safe. Besides, we’ve got the protection of both Triads.” “The Triads?” she asked, surprised. “Are you sure we can trust them?” “Don’t worry,” he said. “JC made peace between them. They’re more than happy to have Hong Kong to themselves, which is why they’re loyal to us. We should be alright.” “Alright, I guess you make a point. You know these men better than I do,” she said. Wearing a blond wig and sunglasses to disguise himself, Paul helped Bebe take her things and pack them in the car. They could only afford one trip to avoid being recognized, however. The security guard at the entrance didn’t seem to mind, though. Apparently the hair and shades had done the trick. Paul’s trench coat concealed his athletic figure, too. But before they left, she made sure to leave a a solitary, neat envelope on her kitchen table containing a letter inside. She had written it a few nights ago, ready for it to be opened. “What’s that?” asked Paul. “My farewell letter,” she said. “For my friends and family. I know they’ll come looking for me.” And with that, they shut the door behind them and walked out, never to turn back again and only to embrace a future together at last.

[mrs-denton]

‘your first night in your new town’ mini mb

from the archives of @osehun i love your blog <3

[mrs-denton]

“I don’t want to turn back”

[mrs-denton]

A persons fanfic tells you a lot about them, i , a fanfic writer, realize in terror

[mrs-denton]

a friend memed it and it’s glorious 

Happy Valentine’s ;)  (poses referenced)

[mrs-denton]

Reblog if you think fanfiction isn't a waste of time.

Reblog if you think it’s a good way to practice writing.

Reblog if you have made friends because of fanfiction.

My sister called it a waste of time and I want to prove her wrong.

[mrs-denton]

Happy Valentine’s ;)  (poses referenced)

[mrs-denton]

Sappy Paul Denton x OC Fanfic [Part 2]

The Start of the Collapse

After Paul’s departure, Bebe’s eyes struggled to shut. She laid in bed and kept glancing over at her phone occasionally, half-expecting something from Paul to come up. When she realized worrying was futile, she put the phone down and laid it down on its charging pad. She was worried, but she tried equilibrating those thoughts with reasonable positive ones because she was pregnant. She had to avoid as much stress as possible.

Staying up to write, as she did on sleepless nights like these, she scribbled her thoughts into her diary until she crashed. In the morning when she awoke, the unwelcome feeling of first trimester morning sickness sharply seized her from her slumber. She went to the bathroom to alleviate herself from the nausea.

Treating patients at the hospital she worked at, including those with the Grey Death, was dreary. Their spirits were broken and some of them got desperate. She wished she could divulge the truth behind the virus, or at least what she knew, but it would likely get her fired. She made sure to wear the most protective gear—respirator, face shield, gloves, a gown, and foot covers. Her health was going to have to become her top priority if she wanted a healthy baby.

Hours ebbed and flowed with moments of hectic excitement during rushes of patients and emergencies, but inched like slugs when things were slow and she caught herself worrying about Paul. She wondered what time it was in Hong Kong—surely, at least half a day ahead—and if he was alive. She thought about JC as well and didn’t want any harm to come to the Dentons, namely because JC was a cool person, but especially because she knew Paul would be devastated if his younger brother should fall. She scrubbed the pressing thoughts away from the walls of her mind—months of meditation had helped—and she continued to show up at work.

She checked her work emails to see if by some crazy chance, Paul had been daring enough to send her a message there. But of course not—he would never do something to endanger them, especially with the Aquinas net. After what felt like a 12-hour shift, Bebe returned home with takeout and quickly checked her computer. There, an email from Paul—or rather, his alias—was sent hours ago while she was still at work.

“Hey babe. I made it safely to Hong Kong, thank god. Good news—everything’s taken care of. My brother and I are gonna be fine. The bad news is that I’ll have to be living here for a few months as I recuperate, as I predicted. I was in pretty bad shape when I arrived, which is why it’s going to take longer for me to recover. Tong wants to keep me under supervision for a while. But I’m already feeling better.

Things are pretty tight in HK. I’m a wanted man here as well. I don’t think making a move right now is wise, but I can’t wait to see you again. I’ll keep you updated whenever I can. Try to take it easy and don’t worry about a thing—I’ll take care of it. I love you, and I’m always thinking about you. - P”

Bebe typed a reply.

“My darling, I’m glad you’re alright. I was worried about you, but I also knew you’d make it through this. Give the doctor my sincerest gratitude—he saved the man I love. I’m also happy J is fine. I completely understand if you need to stay there—in situations like this, a doctor’s supervision is necessary even after the treatment.

Let me know how things go. I want to be with you but things have to be just right. I love you, P. I hope you get better soon. I already miss you. Hugs and kisses. Yours,

- B”

Within the following day, Bebe received another email.

“Bebe—so much is happening right now. I don’t have much time, and neither does the world. Just bear with me. I’m going to be fine, I think, but my brother keeps unearthing more of this conspiracy. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know something will, and if it does, it’s going to be big. I can’t explain everything over the net, but I promise I will when I see you. I don’t know how much time there is and I know this sounds crazy but you’ll just have to trust me. Withdraw your savings now. There’s a high chance the net might crash and everything will be lost. Savings, records, and all sorts of info. Make sure you have plenty of food and supplies as well.

No matter what happens, I will find you! And that’s a promise. Just stay where you are. I love you so much more than you could ever imagine. - P”

Something inside Bebe told her Paul wasn’t lying. Everything Paul told her before and everything they had researched and pieced together made sense. She knew there could only be so much more to this story than most people knew and few had theorized about. After typing her obedient reply, Bebe set off for the bank and asked to withdraw the entirety of her account. Her salary provided her with decent savings she had accumulated over a few years.

But she wondered if the funny look the bank teller gave her was indicative of ignited suspicion. She knew it was. She smiled as the bank teller discussed the request with the manager, who gave her a poorly-disguised look of surprise. Who else but a shady person would just want to remove all their chits from the bank? Only somebody that knew something that most people didn’t know would act this way . . . She would just have to lie and say it was for a potential family emergency. Or that she’s just paranoid and that there are rumors the banks will fail soon. Hearsay type of stuff. But no, the latter would be too suspicious. Just go with the family emergency, she thought. 

Signing some papers that would let the federal revenue office know the reason for her massive withdrawal, she questioned just what the hell she was doing. She stopped for a while and glanced up at the bank teller, who was too busy counting chits to notice her. Bebe questioned herself for a bit--she was blindly obeying Paul’s orders, which wasn’t really a problem in and of itself, but how could she really know what was going on? Paul wouldn’t lie to her though. She knew that man for three years and he never lied. She just had to trust him. Worst case scenario, she’d be tracked down. But if nothing were to happen, she could just say she got worried sick for an ailing family member and took the money out to help with treatments.

“Forty-six-thousand, two-hundred and fifty-nine chits, ma’am,” the bank teller said, fat stacks of the electric green notes neatly sitting on the counter.

“Thank you so much,” she said, handing them the signed papers. “Here you go.”

She opened up her purse and filled it with the money, trying to act naturally. The teller and his manager looked at her strangely, as well as the clients behind her. She felt herself tense up.

“Thank you so much,” she said again. “Have a nice day.” She had a habit of being overly-polite sometimes.

And with that, she carried her loaded purse all the way to her car and drove home, the tunes blaring and the pedal to the metal. Suddenly, the music stopped. Could this be it?

She checked her phone and noticed there was no signal anywhere. The music stream was buffering continuously until it lost connectivity for good. Moving to the network settings, she confirmed there really was no net anymore. She couldn’t believe it at first, and then, she did.

Parking her car, she rushed inside the lobby of her apartment building. There were people standing outside with their cellphones in the air, trying to obtain signal, their faces scrunched in bewilderment. Glancing at the far end of two blocks over where one of the P-Mobile buildings was, people swarmed into the store to complain about their phone services.

“Miss, have you heard? The net’s gone black—disappeared,” the alarmed security guard at the reception said. “Everyone’s internet just shut off. Even the phones, TV, everything. We don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh my god,” she said. “I’ll have to check mine out. Thank you.”

She went upstairs and rapidly scanned her nanokey to her door, eager to get inside. What would she do now?

She checked her computer. The internet was gone. No new emails from Paul, just the cached one from before. As she sat in her apartment, she heard her neighbors arguing loudly in desperation. Turning on the TV, she checked every channel, finding nothing but static—ultimately confirming everything Paul told her. Glancing outside her window and down at the congested streets, violence intensified.

After a few days to a week of the world descending into darkness, reports of the global net crashing and burning appeared on every newspaper. A national emergency was declared, and speculating specialists wondered who was responsible, pointing fingers at foreign governments and even “traitors” within the United States. The zealously religious stood outside every corner, wailing that it was the beginning of the Apocalypse, and the conspiracy theorists held meetings in their garages, claiming it was aliens. But soon enough, the Dentons were named. Bebe paid close attention.

“It is suspected that terrorist JC Denton and his brother, Paul Denton, are behind this massive communications collapse worldwide. We are slowly but surely receiving letters that confirm the internet shutdowns in every nation. Agencies are investigating the matter as best as they can.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. She just hoped the bank tellers didn’t put two and two together and decided to send somebody after her. After all, there was nothing suspicious about a woman withdrawing all her savings a few minutes before the world collapsed. But she sighed in relief when she knew that they wouldn’t have been able to pull up her personal information without the internet.

She thought about her family. Her dad had left them before she was even born, and her mother died of the Grey Death before Ambrosia was released. Her cousins were all living their lives as married people with children, and her only living aunt was old now. What would they think, though? What would they think if she were to run off with a “criminal”, a “terrorist”, a wanted man? Crises were meant to be times where family stuck together more, but with Bebe leaving . . . would they label her as selfish? Crazy? Bad? She only hoped that one day they would understand that Paul was not the person the media and the government was portraying him to be.

They didn’t even know she was pregnant. Engaged? Yes. They knew Paul and they liked him. But the media was a powerful weapon, especially now that the people’s only source of outside knowledge was funneled via the last remaining newspapers. They could twist and besmirch the Dentons as they wished, and people would buy it. Not everybody, though, as there were people who had been following the Juggernaut Collective—until it disbanded—and a few other rebel news disguised as tabloids and conspiracies. But alas, the perceptions of Bebe’s friends and family could definitely be warped against Paul. She had to be careful.

But most importantly, she had to figure out what the next steps in her life would be. If only she could talk to Paul. She wondered if she should keep going to work—part of her would think it better to disappear from society at once and wait until Paul came back, but the other part of her couldn’t just leave all those poor patients behind. She knew there were other doctors and nurses who would do a fine job—but could she really just disappear now? Did she still have to keep up her façade of normalcy? As if she weren’t the woman of the second-most-wanted man in the world right now?

She got up and started packing, hoping that at least sorting this out would bring her more clarity. What were her favorite clothes? What could she stand to leave behind? What would be useful? She took her favorite shoes as well as personal keepsakes and important documents, neatly enclosed in file folders and manilla envelopes, and put them in a suitcase. Most of the money was also stored there. Then, glancing at her desk, she took note of her journal.

How could she leave this behind? She had to take it. Unless, of course, she wanted to be that mysterious woman who left her revealing memoirs in a secret diary. She considered the thought briefly and then took the journal, the pages automatically splitting upon a section with a dried red rose that had been stamped between the weight of the pages. It was the first flower Paul ever gave her. She instantly smiled as she felt the crispy, dark garnet petals on her fingertips, her mind going back to when the petals were bright as fresh blood and smooth like velvet.

[mrs-denton]

enjoy some horrible comics that dont deserve to be called fanart inspired by my paul denton discord 

[mrs-denton]

daddy!

@chyrstis for the deus ex fave character ask,,,, it’s Paul D.!

[mrs-denton]

Here’s a sappy Deus Ex Paul Denton x OC fanfic. uwu

Business to Take Care of in Manhattan: Paul’s Promise A Deus Ex Short Story By Mrs. Denton

     “Go. I’ll slip out on my own,” Paul told his brother, JC. While he was surprised and alleviated that he had managed to escape from the cell they were holding him in, there was no place for emotions. They needed to act, and they needed to act fast. With some final words, JC took what he needed and continued on his mission. Who knew if that was the last time he would ever see him? His training pushed the thought out of his mind as he decided to focus on the task at hand--taking some information from the doctors’ datacubes that might be helpful for Tracer Tong, loading up on medkits, taking back his weapons, getting a temporary fix using the MedBot, and getting the hell out of there. He hurried as he did that, as the killswitch was still active and he was starting to feel weaker. His muscles ached as breathing began to increase in difficulty. But his life wasn’t the only pressing concern--in Manhattan, a woman waited for him. 

     Taking care to not be perceived by any remaining guards, Paul sneaked away--stealth being his specialty--and avoided confrontation. He didn’t want to kill anyone--he knew the UNATCO troops and even the Majestic 12 guys were just doing their jobs and following direction and had no real idea of what was truly going on. Besides, he had also made friends with some of the UNATCO guys--if they weren’t dead already--and it wouldn’t be a fun experience to have to take care of them. And even if he didn’t, he could not afford to take any serious hits in his condition. 

     After finally making it out of headquarters, he made his way towards the North Dock where his friend Harley Filben was. After Harley hooked Paul up with a speedboat ride back to Manhattan, Paul took a cab to the neighborhood where his woman lived. During the taxi ride, he had to conceal all signs of his pain and weakness and act as normal as possible. Whenever his health declined, or the pain got overwhelming, he would apply a medkit, pacing himself so they would last. He knew it would take hours before Jock dropped JC off in Hong Kong, came all the way back for him, and then dropped him off. He worried about the time--there were probably less than 14 hours left. But he had to do this. This was important. 

     Upon arriving at the apartments, Paul paid the taxi driver and made his way up to the second floor using a ladder outside. He had to sneak in through her bedroom window--any security guard or camera catching sight of him at the main entrance would be terrible for both of them. Once outside her window, he slowly knocked. Nothing. But the lights were on inside. Maybe she had gotten freaked out?

     “It’s Paul,” he said. 

     Within moments, a woman with long, dark brown hair wearing a surprised expression opened the window to let him in. 

     “Paul? What are you doing here? I was so worried about you--”

     She was interrupted by Paul’s lips pressed against hers, his entire palm resting on her cheek, fingers caressing her behind the ear. She moaned and closed her eyes, kissing Paul back as her hands rested on his chest. 

     “I don’t have much time,” Paul said, pulling his lips back. He gave her a serious and woeful look. 

     “What do you mean? What’s going on?” she asked, trying to understand the pain behind those glowing blue eyes.

     “I need to sit down,” he replied, pulling away from the embrace before taking a seat by the bed. She followed. 

     “Paul . . .  ?” she gently asked, her brown eyes filling with concern. “You’re starting to worry me . . .” 

     He looked at her. “Remember that thing I talked to you about?”

     “Yeah.” 

     “It’s real. All of it. God, I took a big risk telling you everything I knew, but I knew I did the right thing. Anybody else would’ve laughed. But you didn’t.”

     “Of course not,” she replied. “But you’re telling me the whole conspiracy--”

     “Yes. Majestic Twelve, the payoffs at UNATCO--urgh,” he continued, interrupted by a groan of pain. He instantly bent over and clutched at his side, where most of the pain was coming from. 

     “Oh my god, are you okay?” she asked, placing her hands over his. 

     “Listen, they got me. They know I’m working for the NSF. They’ve activated a killswitch for betraying the Coalition--it’s supposed to shut down my augmentations and kill me. I have around twelve hours or so.”

     “Wait, what? Oh my god, Paul,” Bebe cried, her expression woven with acute melancholy. Her eyes widened and watered up.

     “Bebe,” he groaned, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her face to his chest. “Don’t worry about me. Luckily, there’s a man in Hong Kong who might be able to help me and JC. He’s on the run, too.”

     “I don’t want you to die,” she replied, crying into his chest. He held her tighter and kissed her head. 

     “I won’t die. I’ll make it, I promise,” he assured her. “Tracer Tong is the most talented biohacker in the world. Apparently he’s discovered a way to reverse-engineer the virus as well as shut down the killswitch. There’s still a chance. But if not, I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.”

     She broke down into tears and embraced him, pain swelling up inside her chest and her eyes. “I love you too, you have no idea,” she cried, not wanting to let go of him. 

     Paul felt her grief as his own, so he held her and kissed her head again, sighing. Silent tears rolled down his face, baring his teeth to contain the pain inside and outside. But he wasn’t ashamed. Around her, he could be vulnerable, stripping away the aggressiveness of his exterior. She was the only one who saw him for who he was. Bebe was extremely perceptive, so she picked up on it, and wiped her tears and kissed his cheek and lips. Paul moaned and slid his fingers into her hair as he kissed her back. In their weakest moments, they had to be strong for each other.

     “But I refuse to believe that you won’t make it out of this,” she said, her voice quivering. She raised the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away Paul’s tears. “I believe you’re going to make it. You’re the . . .” she trailed off as her throat tightened, looking into his eyes. He met hers with attentiveness. 

     “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met,” she continued, her voice breaking, and more tears ran down her face. She looked down in shame at her own emotionality. 

     Paul looked at her, his heart aching. He certainly didn’t want to die--Bebe gave him a reason to carry on. Since the death of his parents, finding joy in life was an almost empty quest that resulted in ephemeral results. But all of that changed when they met each other. 

     “And you,” he replied, taking her face in her hands, despite all the pain he was feeling. “Are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.”

     “Paul . . .” she began. “I have something to say.” She looked up at him.

     “What is it?” he asked.

     “I’m . . . pregnant,” she said, scarcely believing it herself.

     “Bebe? Are you for real?” he asked, his eyes widening. 

     “Yes, I can show you the test,” she replied. “I just didn’t know how you might take it, with everything going on. I--”

     Paul’s heart began beating in a happiness he never felt before.

     “I’m going to be a dad,” Paul said, the air taken out of him, but overjoyed. “Oh Bebe, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

     “I love you so much,” she said, relieved and ecstatic.

     “I love you too!”

     He held her tight, his arms wrapped around her body. His hand gently held the back of her neck as his other arm circled around her waist. She held him tightly as well, and soon, their tears of sadness turned into tears of joy.

     “You’ve given me a reason to keep on living,” he said, holding her in his arms. “You already did. But with this child, I . . . I realize how crazy it would be to give up. I want to stay with you and watch him or her grow. I won’t give up. I’ll do anything it takes to stay alive--gaahh!”

     “Paul!” she gasped as he bent over once again. He scrambled to produce a medkit from his trench coat and applied it. His nanites quickly metabolized the medicine. He instantly felt a bit better--enough to stay afloat. 

     “I’m fine,” he said, letting out a sigh, and sat down again. She acknowledged this. Then he smiled softly. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

     “And I’ve always dreamed of being a mom,” she replied with a tender smile on her face. 

     “Get over here,” he playfully groaned. She smiled and was happy to oblige. 

     He laid down on the bed and pulled her over to him, and she rested in the crook of his arm, her face on his chest. They laid there for a while, staring up at the pale ceiling. Laying down and cuddling felt good. It was as if his pain had disappeared for a moment. He allowed himself to relax, for there were still hours before Jock came back.

     Then he started thinking about the future. She did too. But being the more extroverted one, he spoke first. 

     “I don’t know how far this rabbit hole does,” said Paul. “But I’m sure there’s more. I don’t know what JC’s getting himself into, but whatever the world comes down to, I’ll find you. I might have to spend some time in Hong Kong, if I’m to get any better. The question is, do you want to be with a wanted man? I mean, you have your friends, your family, your job . . .”

     “Whatever the world comes down to, I would follow you anywhere,” she replied, looking up at him. “That was clear to me even before we got engaged. I’m sure my friends would understand. I could always get a job someplace else. And my family, well . . . they know you’re a good person. We’ll just have to see how it goes, but I’m not leaving your side. In fact, I wish I could come with you.”

     “Not right now, it’s too dangerous,” he said. “If they see you with me, it’s over for us both. You’ll lose everything. Wait until everything simmers down. I’ll contact you under an alias once I’m in Hong Kong and keep you posted. I’ll plan everything out. Don’t worry about anything.”

     She nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I understand. I’ll act like nothing happened, go to work tomorrow, and wait for your message.”

     She got up and walked to her bathroom mirror, where she opened it and took out all the medkits she had.

     “I want you to take this,” she said, giving him the packages.

     “Thoughtful as always,” he said, and stuffed them in his trench coat. “Thank you, babe.”

     The next moments were spent discussing the future, getting Paul ready, and loading up with more things. Paul needed to get to Smuggler somehow and try to sneak into his apartment for the last time--which was now a crime scene--but it was too risky. He had to stay alive for his child. Still, he would figure out a way. 

     Before leaving, Bebe stood by the window with Paul. It was now time to see him go and plunge into the unknown. The man that she loved may or may not come back. She knew things were going to go down--things outside of her control. So her only option was to accept it, believe in the possibility of Paul’s survival while preparing for the worst, and to stay strong. However, when demanding situations in the past had come up, she rose up to the challenges of life. She was the rare flower that bloomed in adversity. 

     “I will promise to take care of our child no matter what happens,” she said. “He or she will carry a part of you. I will wait for you, Paul.”

     “And I will come back for you and the baby,” he said. Raw emotion permeated his eyes--a resolution, a faith that seemed to drive this newfound strength to live. There was melancholy there, too. Such eyes were the eyes of a man that cared so much it hurt. “I promise.”

Fin

[mrs-denton]

I had this idea of ​​a cyberpunk building that was once a temple and is now repurposed as a night club, or maybe a hacker hideout, I haven’t decided yet :)

[mrs-denton]

the original was the best, fite me

Blade runner (1982) VS Blade runner 2049 (2017)

Music: S U R F I N G : Deep Fantasy

[mrs-denton]

Have you guys seen the Helios Texture Overhaul mod for the original Deus Ex by BerƵerker? :D   Just thought I’d share as I am currently trying to install it so you can try it out if you want 

Mod link: https://www.moddb.com/mods/helios-texture-overhaul

[mrs-denton]

[augmentation intensifies]

…instead of making serious art (as promised), I’m having a time of my life playing Deus Ex <3 Serious JC Denton portrait soon I hope, though.