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violet-dragongirl · 4 years

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7, 16, 38, 74? :3

7. Most disappointing game you’ve played?

It’s a tie between Pariah and The Division 2 Pariah was an FPS on the PS2 (last I checked) and it was...it was a let down. This was during of course the era where trailers and even gameplay vids were out of my reach so I couldn’t even fathom how terrible it was for other people. But...tbh the one thing that is memorable for me is the title...that’s it. Division 2 was a major let down due to how much they’ve kept changing how we build characters in the game, all because PvP focused groups kept killing the PvE mechanics and elements that made it enjoyable. If you played before the expansion release, it was...rocky but reasonable. Each high end and exotic gun had 3 traits that, when getting proper rolls on, were super synergetic with builds. And having an exotic armour piece AND a weapon meant that, if you found the right synergy for the build you have, you were a reliable teammate on the raid (that I never got to do because I was building up to that point, as well as getting the Nemesis, a sniper rifle that was so much towards my 3 builds that honestly I’d go try to solo the raid (yes I was that cocky at the time...oh well). Plus when the expansion came out and the changes were made, I felt so overwhelmed and underpowered due to how my builds were, not because of any extra leveling or loot finding I had to do. I shouldn’t complain much on a Tom Clancy game (that in and of itself for me is a marker of mediocre storytelling and expectancy), but honestly it was something for me to break away from Gears 4 for a long time, and over the months it just never truly delivered.

There’s also Rogue Company but that’s because the first impression of the communities there were honestly fucking garbage so yeah fuck that game.

16. The best year in gaming you’ve experienced?

Gotta be a mix between 2019 and 2020. 2019 had it’s ups and downs but as far as acheivements went, Destiny 2 was the one I felt super proud for, even atttempting to achieve triumphs that were...very hard. I felt determined, and gaming wise, motivated. It was a game that I thought I wouldn’t play for long but it turns out well...I got 2 titles now because of what I loved in the game, and a few triumphs that, at any other time in 2019, I would’ve been reluctant to get due to both lack of friendships as well as difficulty.

2020 was...how do I put this. I had to sit back and really take in what I was playing. I was expecting too much, BUT it was also a time where I can go back to the games I’m find of and play them with a clearer head, see the story evolve in the games I played, as well as try stuff that I didn’t beforehand. It was fun and honestly rewarding...despite some releases that made me so irritated because I was expecting better and even plausible time playing them instead of like...well..I won’t name the 3 games I was disappointed with but they also didn’t ruin 2020 entirely for me either.

38. Have you tried a game, hated it, then tried again, and loved it?

Hahahahahaha...no

I’ve thought deeply about this in about 5 minutes and I can tell you that no, I haven’t. Even the game Control was something I loved from the start. It was frustrating and irritating mechanically then as it is now, but the story intrigued me. I’d say if anything about the game got under my skin, it was that there was something about it that made me so angry every time I played and I didn’t know what it was. I still don’t. It has most to all of the elements I like and even pushed some that I didn’t expect to be pushed, but every time I played, as much as I loved that game, it put me in such an angry and raging fever internally that I can’t explain. The closest game that I tried, hated then loved would be Apex Legends but like...in a very very distant way to the target of your question.

Remnant from the Ashes

74. Which game has the best lore?

To say that there was only one game with the best lore would be like...telling me to pick my favourite metal band of all time--Fallout New Vegas

But really though it’s a couple of them. So let’s start first with: Borderlands

So...despite my opinions on Gearbox *cough* fuck randy pitchford *cough*, and despite how the lore wound up to be...told flat (I’m side eyeing tf out of you BL3), Borderlands has lore that I loved because there was that HUGE question(s) of the connections between the Sirens, Eridians, Vaults, and Eridium. Now I’m not saying that BL3 ended badly. Just flat. Because honestly I wanted to know so much in way of hearing it from the characters themsellves of what the hell was going on about it all, and INTERACT WITH IT IN THE GAME THROUGH GAMEPLAY AND CINEMATICS, that all backstory and lore was found on past records that I could hear again and again from the one siren who just...started it all. Like yes there are characters and instances that go into the lore of Borderlands, but...I guess just not enough to really keep me satiated.

I have a rough outlook on this because I did want to have it be intertwined into the story itself as I progressed, but instead I had to find it through usual means of Kill, Loot, Explore...and honestly that does get boring after a while (this isn’t the only game that does that).

Anyway next up is

Destiny 2

For a slow burn, there’s a SHIT TON OF FUCKING LORE OMFG WTF WTF NO JUST TOO MUCH BUT IT’S SO GOOD

I’ll leave it at that and just say that no I haven’t read all of the lore, hence why I don’t and never will have my Chronicler title so yeah.

Okay I’ll explain just a bit. I like how there’s not just the bigger picture of the lore, but also how it all comes together through small, and at first, irrelevant stories. Why would I need to read about the happenings and tragedies of characters with such a short design span in order to understand exactly wtf is going on? Why do I need to know about how a certain weapon came about and who created it for what purpose? Why the fuck is there a Ghost named Pulled Pork?

Anywho yeah. Lore.

And yes of course Fallout Universe (for me more specifically FONV).

I like it because it’s a window to a warning that fiction in total has done so many fucking times throughout history that...well...I like how fallout does it. Then of course there’s the nonsense that comes up here and there and having to work with npcs I really don’t give a shit about or just fucking hate, but...the lore is...pretty good. I don’t...hmm. I don’t really count FO4 and 76 (even though it seems like they’ve livened the lore up a bit in 76...I’ll give that benefit of the doubt) because right form the get go it was...lacking a lot of the things I liked from FO1 and 2 (I don’t count tactics cos that game was annoying af...and that’s just me no I will not elaborate). 3′s lore...eeeeeh...it’s there, but it didn’t interest me as much. New Vegas was just different and fun with the Fallout lore that it’s the most memorable to me.

Caesar (along with that fucking fox/dog helmet motherfucker you meet in Nipton) is still an grade F fucking dick and I will kill them every time through everyplaythrough, no I will not join the Legion or have them help me take over Hoover Dam because to me they’re just as shit as the fucking Brotherhood of Steel (sorry Veronica, you got a really shit family and every playthrough I never thought they had your best interests in mind).

#asks #adrawrable

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antpernas · 4 years

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12/8/20

Today was really good!!

Me and my friend went to bed at around 4 AM, I think, and we woke up around 10 AM. It really surprised me because that means I just completely slept through my alarm? But I guess going to sleep three hours before it goes off can do that!

Anyway, the day was really nice! I started by making some tea and having breakfast, which was just a yogurt cup and some milano chocolate biscuits. The first thing we had on our to-do list was to go to IKEA. I did all my skincare stuff and we both got all cute (though admittedly their fit was much cuter than mine), and we got ready to head out! One the way down to their car, we took a cute little vid for their snap. When we got outside, I hopped in the driver’s seat and had a little bit of a seizure because I thought they drove with the seat as far back as it was, but it turned out it just automatically reclines when the car’s off. I think we ended up leaving around noon!

IKEA was SOOO nice! It had been a while since I had been, and it was my friend’s first time. First, we did a walk through all the displays on the second floor (I had to pee really bad so we skipped the office section), passed by the restaurant area, then walked through the first floor to see all the stuff there. We got them a bunch of stuff for their place, but specifically had come for a shelf for them to store all their snacks! We ended up just settling on a plastic bin instead, though.

It took a fucking while, since I was waiting for forever to try and get on the information kiosk computer to search up bedframes (the first attempt had gone awry because what showed up in the computer was not actually in stock), only to be SNUBBED by some lady that walked up five seconds prior to the person who was taking forever leaving, BUT I ended up getting a bed frame since I’m tired of sleeping on a twin. It’s ok though, since it gave me a chance to text Scorpio boy! While I was doing all that, my friend went to go eat. Apparently, the Swedish meatballs they had were pretty mediocre.

When we finished there, we went back to their place and, most notably, listened to Chloe x Halle’s NPR Tiny Desk performance, which was AMAZING! I missed an exit on the way there so we took a little longer than we should’ve, but when we got there we brought all the stuff we had bought for them up, and I tidied up their room a little bit. I stored the food away in the bin and then gathered all the trash (mostly just the empty snack boxes) to take to the chute. We both ended up leaving a little before 4 PM, them to go to the gym and me to go home! I got all my stuff and moved the bed frame from their car to mine, and we kissed goodbye.

When I got home, I put in one of my meal preps to microwave and got to work on my bedframe. First I had to dismantle the twin, which was pretty easy. Then, I was pretty much focused on putting together the queen for two or three hours, and the only part that gave me trouble was these stupid fucking screws that just did not want to get along with any of the screwdrivers nor drill bits that I had available. Somehow, though, I managed to get the bed together in one piece! I stole the mattress from the other room dressed the bed, and was all done! I had been so determined to finish that I hadn’t been eating my lunch, so I finished that pretty late.

After I finished that, I got to work on setting up my replacement phone. That was the MOST annoying thing because it kept freezing. I had to restart the process twice before just trying it a third way which ended up working. At some point, I looked outside and my cat was eating a rat it had caught, which was... something? I just turned and went back to work.

After the phone setup was FINALLY sorted out, had a LATE ass dinner (meaning 1 AM), showered and shaved, did a cucumber face soak, and texted Scorpio boy some more! Once I hopped into bed, at about 3 AM, I did some more online IKEA shopping to get a nightstand and some new bedsheets, and started writing this!

Really excited to do some music and studying tomorrow since I think I’ve finally finished all the “chores” I have for the week! And hopefully, I’ll finally work out again!

Good night, be safe, I love you!

#mydiary

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siniov · 4 years

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thoughts on cody’s knew podcast (‘the pleasure is ours’)? i thought the first ep with drew gooden was great and reminded me of when cody would do weekend edition on his old podcast. he’s a good podcast host i reckon and i enjoy it better than his lacklustre youtube vids.

i thought it was decent. i enjoy drew’s content too and its nice when two somewhat separate creators collab. i remember the insanely chill ep from back in the day with drew and danny so yeah it had those nostalgia vibes to it. hopefully it continues with familiar guests. pls nothing like the tmg feat. logic ep happens again

i probably sound a bit cynical but i feel podcasts are coming pretty oversaturated. [insert meme about mediocre white men starting podcasts]. most people don’t have time to listen to a tonne of pods a week and these days every content creator is making one. i hope this new one stays fresh and doesn’t take away from what tmg still has.

i rly hope it’s something cody actually wants to do as well. since its with iheartradio, i imagine it’s a move made at least with some financial motivation. not that thats necessarily a bad thing.

to compare, noel’s everything but the points is clearly just something he wants to do because he loves talking about f1 and racing in general. we love to see it. (well, objectively, i’m not personally tuning in).

#god i cannot shut the fuck up #cody ko #the pleasure is ours #drew gooden #noel miller #tiny meat gang #ck #nm #tmg

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veorlian · 4 years

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Idolatry - Renewal

Pairing: Garrus Vakarian/Female Shepard

Rating: T for swearing and stabbing.

Summary: Citadel DLC, Part 2/3. Conclusion to the clone fight, hanging out with friends, and date night.

ao3 link

Excerpt:

“Legion, you know I’ve never played a video game before,” she said wryly. She was sitting on one of her too-large couches as Legion fiddled with the television.

“Acknowledged. Based on previous experience, the adequate response to this statement is ‘git gud, scrub,’ although I have been unable to ascertain its exact meaning,” Legion replied.

It was quiet in the cargo bay. Too damn quiet. Shepard paused just outside of the elevator door, listening. Since she’d gotten the cybernetic upgrades, she’d grown accustomed to dampening her senses. The first few days after her resurrection it had been almost impossible to move without being bombarded with sounds, smells, sights that sent her to her reeling. Now, she tuned back in. She closed her eyes, and she listened.

It was never entirely silent on a ship. The gentle, ever-present hum of the Normandy was a high-pitched whine, now that EDI wasn’t in control. It made Shepard wince. She could hear Garrus’ breathing, and her own uneven heartbeat.

And she could hear faint breathing, up and to the left. Her lips curled in a humourless smile.

“You might as well give up,” Shepard called. “You’ve lost.”

“I haven’t lost anything.” The clone’s voice echoed off the walls, impossible to pinpoint. But Shepard could hear her footsteps now, circling around. Shepard motioned for Garrus and EDI to stay where they were, and she slowly moved into the room.

“And yet here you are, hiding from me like a coward. What’s the matter, little girl, are you scared? You should be. You should be terrified.” The footsteps grew stronger, closer together, nearer.

The razor-sharp edge of the clone’s omni-tool came whistling towards Shepard’s face, but Shepard easily countered it with her own. The sound of the blades clashing echoed across the room.

“You may look like me,” Shepard breathed, “but I’ve forgotten more ways to kill than you’ll ever learn.”

“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” the clone spat. The fluorescent orange of the omni-blades reflected onto the clone’s face. It was a damn shame for her, really, that Shepard knew all of her own tells.

“I’m sure you’re used to disappointment by now,” Shepard said softly, and she shoved the clone away, hard. The next second she was invisible, and booking it towards EDI and Garrus at the back of the room. She ducked into cover behind the requisitions terminal. The cargo bay, Shepard realized belatedly, was a shit place to have a fight. From there, it was impossible to get a good fix on any of the oncoming enemies. Apparently they had no trouble hitting her though; a grenade arced through the air and exploded next to her, sending flames licking up her armour.

“Shit,” she hissed. She tucked into a combat roll away from the fire. She rose to her feet and a fist connected with her bruised ribs. Shepard stumbled back as her clone materialized in front of her. Damn it, she was supposed to be a long-range fighter, what the hell was up with all the melee? Shepard feinted to the left before delivering a swift upper-cut to her clone’s jaw.

She should’ve delivered a swift upper-cut, but the clone wasn’t there anymore. Shepard felt an arm around her neck, choking her. Fuck that.

Shepard got a grip on her clone’s arms and then brought her torso down, sending the clone slamming into the ground. Shepard swung her Widow around and got the clone in the chest, point-blank. The clone faded into invisibility again and was gone. Damn it.

A handful of mercs raced away from the fight, climbing into the Kodiak shuttle. The hatch to the cargo bay opened and they sped away. In their haste, they left the door open. The wind whipped through Shepard’s hair, sending it flying into her face. She impatiently pushed it away.

“Just give up, will you? You’re past your best-before date. I’m the new and improved version, without the scarring and annoying moral code,” the clone shouted. Shepard was having a bit of an out of body experience. It’s one thing to have doubts about yourself, it’s an entirely different experience to hear them repeated back to you in your own damn voice.

“Was that supposed to be an insult? I earned these scars on Feros, and Noveria, and Ilos, and Thessia, and Rannoch! You got yours out of a petri dish.” Her voice rang clear through the cargo bay. What was it she’d said to Zaeed? You’re just a collection of scars held together by spite. Maybe they had that in common.

“You’re just a mediocre soldier with a lucky streak.”

“Then what does it say about you that I’m kicking your ass?” Shepard shouted back. She finally caught her clone in her sights, and got her in the leg with a shot from the Widow. Her clone stumbled, and Shepard raced forward, tackling her to the ground. They rolled together down the open ramp until they came to rest almost at the bottom. Shepard’s clone reared up, her fist hurtling towards Shepard’s face. The ship rocked violently, sending them flying. They both ended up holding onto the edge of the cargo bay door, nothing but a steep drop beneath them.

“Why you and not me? What makes you so damn special?” Shepard felt a small twinge of guilt at the pain in her clone’s voice.

“Shepard, hold on! We’ve got you!” Garrus yelled. He and EDI hurried down the ramp and hauled her back to safety. She looked down to her clone. There’s always a choice, Commander Shepard, and it matters that you choose to help.

“Take my hand,” Shepard said. She saw her clone glance up the walkway. Looking for Brooks, maybe. Whatever she saw made her face fall.

“And then what?” she snapped.

“And then you live. Show me what you’re made of, Shepard,” Shepard said. Not a sentence she’d ever expected to say, but apparently it was just that kind of day.

Her clone looked up at her sharply.

“You’ll regret this,” she said. “It’ll come back to bite you in the ass.”

“I regret a lot of things. Now take my damn hand.”

And she did.

They caught Brooks not long after. Cortez, who had apparently been engaged in some fancy flying to keep the ship from leaving, led her forward in handcuffs.

“Caught this one trying to leave,” he said. “Alliance is going to lock her up tight.”

“Shepard,” Brooks purred, “I’m sure we can put all this unpleasantness behind us.”

“I’m not in a particularly forgiving mood,” Shepard replied. Or General Shepard? We’ll deal with her. Her hands balled up into fists.

“But wasn’t it fun to have someone running around, being in awe of you? Admit it, you’re going to miss me.” Shepard could hear the gentle tap of Brooks' hands on her restraints. She leaned down, until she was level with Brooks’ eyes.

“You’re going to go along quietly with the Alliance, and you’re going to stay the hell away from me and the people I care about,” Shepard said, her voice forged in iron and steel

“Aww, is the great Commander Shepard pleading for her life?”

“I’m pleading for yours.” It was barely above a murmur. The tapping stopped.

“Very well,” Brooks said at last. “Till we meet again, Commander.”

“Rot in hell, Staff Analyst Maya Brooks,” Shepard suggested.

“Hey, maybe now you can actually have some shore leave,” Garrus said wryly as they exited the ship. Shepard snorted.

“I doubt it, but I suppose stranger things have happened,” she said.

“You can goddamn say that again,” Joker said fervently. Shepard gently clapped him on the shoulder.

“C’mon Joker, it could’ve been worse,” she said.

“How? How could it have been worse?”

“There could have been Collectors.”

“Hey, when the “Best Commanding Officer Awards” come up, don’t expect a nomination from me.”

“Noted. Can I interest you in some sushi?” The resentful silence was answer enough, and Shepard grinned wryly. As punishment, Joker refused to let her drive. He dropped her off at her apartment, but not before insisting that she needed to throw some kind of party.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“What was that? Couldn't hear you!” He revved the engine loudly to drown out her protests.

“Damn it, Joker!”

“And you owe me dinner! No knives this time!”

“No promises!” she shouted as he drove away.

Shepard didn’t do vacations. Fourteen years with the Alliance and she’d been on shore leave a handful of times, each more catastrophic than the last. The last time had been a few months before she’d died. She’d started two bar fights and had to be put on unofficial lockdown for a few days. The time before that they'd caught her sneaking back onto the ship. To be honest, having her evil clone try and steal the Normandy was just the natural progression of the Shepard Hates Vacations conundrum.

Still, it wasn’t every day that almost every person you’d ever cared about was kicking around the same place that you were. The Normandy was in drydock for another few days, and so Shepard made the most of it.

“Legion, you know I’ve never played a video game before,” she said wryly. She was sitting on one of her too-large couches as Legion fiddled with the television.

“Acknowledged. Based on previous experience, the adequate response to this statement is ‘git gud, scrub,’ although I have been unable to ascertain its exact meaning,” Legion replied.

“Uh huh. Got it. So then what are we playing?”

“Vega-Lieutenant suggests that you would enjoy playing Blasto: Hero of the Citadel.”

“Vega’s an asshole, don’t you listen to him.”

“Anatomically unlikely on both fronts.” The corners of Shepard’s mouth twitched up.

“What’s your favourite game, Legion?” she asked, trying a different tactic.

“I am banned from most games for suspected VI activity,” they explained.

“Tell you what, Tali and Kasumi are coming over to watch Fleet and Flotilla with me later, why don’t you join us?”

“Will there be popcorn?” they asked. Shepard’s brows wrinkled in confusion.

“You and Tali can't eat it…?”

“I understand it is integral to organic vid watching ceremonies.”

“Alright, we'll have popcorn.”

“Shepard, you know I can’t eat popcorn,” Tali complained. The four of them were settled on the largest of the couches. It stretched across half the room, but somehow everyone had ended up almost piled up on top of Shepard. She found that she didn’t really mind.

“I got some dextro-based snacks for you, Tali,” Shepard reassured her.

“Shepard-Commander?” Legion had the copy of Fleet and Flotilla in their hands and they were carefully examining it, holding it up to the light.

“Yes Legion?”

“What purpose does a relationship between two species serve? They cannot procreate,” Legion said. Shepard shared a loaded look with Tali and Kasumi.

“It’s about the romance,” Tali explained. “Forbidden, star-crossed love.” The last few words were wistful, almost dreamy.

“I do not understand,” Legion said. Shepard patted them on the shoulder.

“How about we watch the movie, and you can ask any questions you have when it’s over, okay?”

“Acknowledged.” Shepard flicked on the TV and the beginning credits began to roll.

“Shepard-Commander--”

“Shhh!” Kasumi hushed them.

“After the movie, Legion,” Shepard said. Legion nodded reluctantly. Kasumi and Tali both snuggled in on either side of Shepard, their heads resting on her shoulders. Maybe, she thought, vacations weren’t all bad.

The next day dawned bright and sunny, thanks to the artificial light on the Citadel. Shepard had gently deposited Tali and Kasumi in the guest bedrooms (how big did one apartment need to be??) and Legion had spent the small hours of the morning playing video games on her TV. After breakfast, she cheerfully sent them on their way after inviting each of them to the party that Joker had insisted she throw.

She hummed cheerfully to herself as she got dressed for the day. It was a relief, really, to be pulling on her regular black cargo pants and hoodie. Nice clothes were all well and good, but nothing could beat a half-dozen pockets, each weighed down with knives and caltrops. There were another dozen people that she needed to see. So many people that cared about her. It made her feel disconcertingly warm and fuzzy.

Shepard's first stop was at the hospital. Blessedly, she didn’t need to stay inside for long. She picked up Thane and took him to the café on the Presidium to buy him brunch. She’d never done brunch before.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“As well as I can be, during these difficult times,” Thane said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the gardens. “But Mordin believes I will make a full recovery.”

“You’ve seen Mordin?” she asked, sipping at her coffee.

“Ah, I had assumed that you would have heard. The salarian councilor was extremely grateful for the part I played in his rescue.”

“You mean saving his life almost single-handedly?” Shepard asked wryly. Thane rewarded her with a smile warmer than the artificial sun.

“Indeed. He asked that Mordin create a cure for Kepral’s Syndrome. So here I am, better than I’ve felt in years,” he explained.

“That’s great!” Shepard said encouragingly.

“I may even be fit to help with the war effort,” he said, and his eyes flicked to her. Shepard’s face immediately fell into a frown.

“Not going to happen,” she said firmly.

“It is unfair for me to remain here when so many are dying.”

“How many last missions can one person have?” she asked. “There was the hit on Nassana Dantius, and then the Omega 4, and then saving the councilor, and then stopping my clone--”

“You have made your point,” he said wryly. “But it doesn’t seem to have stopped you before.” She pursed her lips and studied his face. He did look better, she had to admit.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“We could always use military advisors. Strictly non combat, you understand?” she said. He considered her for a moment, before eventually nodding.

“Very well, if you think that would be best,” he said.

“I’ll let Hackett know,” she replied. And then, “It’s good to see you, Thane.”

“And you, Shepard. But you are on vacation. Shall we talk of more cheerful things?”

“Please,” she said fervently, and he chuckled, without coughing once.

It still wasn’t easy, going down to the refugee docks, but Mordin had asked her to meet him there. He had assembled a new clinic, replacing much of the equipment they’d been using in the refugee docking bay. He was bustling around, issuing instructions.

“Good to see some things never change, Mordin,” Shepard said wryly.

“Former system inefficient. Had to fix it. Other people always get it wrong.”

“Want a hand?” She leaned against the wall casually.

“Equally inefficient. Healing not one of your skills. Would like to talk, though.” She smiled ruefully. He wasn’t wrong. Once upon a time, he might’ve told her that he was never wrong.

“You got it. Shall we?” She led the way to a few miraculously empty chairs amidst the hustle and bustle of the docks. His posture was as impeccable as always as he remained sitting up straight on the uncomfortable bench.

“What have you been up to?” she asked. “Aside from curing Kepral’s Syndrome.”

“Spoken to Thane? Yes, cure is complete. Recommend minimal physical activity for time being. Non-combat.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I clear him for combat.”

“Tactfully put,” he said. She grinned at him.

“So what else…?” she left the sentence hanging, waiting for him to continue.

“Some side-effects to genophage cure. Created an antidote, but salarian doctors still not trusted. Been here for past two weeks.” Two weeks, and he’d already rearranged the docks. Knowing Mordin, he’d done that on his first day here.

“And how’s Urdnot Bakara doing in her new role?” Shepard asked. At that, he did smile.

“Exceeds expectations. Stabilizing influence on Urdnot Wrex. I like her.”

“Me too,” Shepard said. “Didn’t you say something about retirement though?”

“Yes. Wanted to run tests on seashells. Beaches in short supply at present, due to Reaper presence. Had a question.”

“Only one?” she asked wryly.

“As statement suggests, yes,” he replied. Shepard snorted.

“Alright, shoot,” she said.

“Clinic here running smoothly. Talents could be better used elsewhere. Crucible project needs scientists?”

“They’d be happy to have you,” Shepard said immediately. Mordin smiled warmly. They chatted a bit more, before Mordin insisted that he needed to get back to work. Some things really didn’t change.

Later that evening, after she’d visited even more of her friends, Shepard finally had a moment alone. The events of the past few days caught up, slamming into her like a freight train. Her hands rested on the cool marble of the bathroom vanity as she studied herself intently in the mirror. Scars mapped every part of her face, lancing across her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, notching a mark in her right eyebrow. Undeniably hers, but unquestionably altered now.

She looked at herself in the mirror, but she saw someone else. It was disconcerting to realize that the DNA that ran through her body was the same as her clone’s. It was worse to realize that her clone had been so violent, so capricious. Was that who she was, deep down? Was that who she’d been meant to be?

Her long red hair tumbled around her face, limp and bedraggled from days without washing it. She held a piece between her fingers, feeling every strand. She’d always been hopelessly proud of her hair, and had let it grow impractically long. The only part of her that the world hadn’t mangled.

But as she looked at it, she saw her clone. It wasn’t hers anymore. The world had taken that from her, as it had taken so many things.

Or maybe it had given her something new. She went down to the kitchen and selected a pair of scissors, and then she returned to the bathroom mirror in her room. With steady hands, she cut her hair. As it fell away, her angular features stood out in sharp relief. The haircut wasn’t even by a long shot, but it was hers. ... Garrus didn’t quite know what to do with his hands. He’d been standing outside the door to the apartment building for ten minutes now, hemming and hawing about the best course of action. And if he didn’t figure it out soon, he was going to be late for their date.

There were a number of facts Garrus was sure of. One: he was in love with Shepard. Fairly obvious, he’d been in love with her for over a year now. Two: Shepard was in love with him. He still hadn’t fully wrapped his head around that one, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. Three: he had no idea what the fuck was going to happen when they went to that Cerberus base. He hoped with every fibre of his being that they’d make it out the other side alive and in one piece, but he didn’t know.

Which was why he was standing outside the entrance to Shepard’s building, the ring box held in a vice-like grip between his talons.

Don’t be a coward, Vakarian. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late. He squared his shoulders, and marched into the building resolutely. The elevator ride up seemed to last for an eternity. He studied the ceiling tiles, the grey swirling pattern seeming to vanish into the distance. It took him a second to realize that the elevator wasn’t moving anymore. It took him another second to exit the elevator. Spirits only knew how he got to Shepard’s door. He knocked gently. If he was quiet enough, maybe she wouldn’t answer.

But she did. He scrambled to shove the box into one of the very few pockets that turian clothing allowed for.

“Hey,” she said softly. Her eyelashes were longer than usual, and there was a dark tint to her lips. She was wearing that damn suit again and his brain short-circuited. His mouth was suddenly too dry. Shit, he should say something.

“Hey.” Amazing job, Vakarian. What a way with words. She gave him a crooked half-smile.

“Come in?” she suggested. Relieved, he nodded and stepped through.

“Your, um,” he tried. He gestured vaguely to her face.

“My hair?” she asked.

“Yeah.” It barely fell past her ears now. Could humans just...do that? She rubbed at her neck self-consciously.

“It felt weird looking in the mirror and seeing her. So, I cut it. Maybe by the time it grows back it won’t feel as weird,” she explained. He nodded stiffly. Spirits, did he have to be so awkward right now? You’d think it’d be easier to propose to your best friend.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. She was closer now, cinnamon and coffee in the air. There was a slight crease to her forehead.

“I love you,” he said suddenly. A warm smile spread across her face.

“Yes, we’ve established that,” she said. “But you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did I do that bad a job cutting it?”

“No, no it’s not that,” he said hurriedly. “It’s...damn.”

“Now you’re making me worried, Garrus.” She pulled away. Shit.

“Dance with me?” he blurted. Her eyebrows shot up so high they reached her hairline.

“Am I having a stroke?” she asked incredulously. “Every third sentence you say is insulting my dancing.” He really didn’t have anything to say to that, so he raced over to the wall, keyed into her stereo system and started playing music, as well as dimming the lights. Tango music filled the apartment, and he held out a slightly shaking hand to her.

“Hell no,” she said.

“C’mon Shepard, do you trust me?” Spirits, did there really have to be pleading in his voice right now?

“Implicitly. I’m still not dancing with you.” Steeling himself to get elbowed in the guts, he grabbed her hand and tugged her close to him. She reluctantly let him lead her through a few beginning steps, but she stayed stiff as a board, completely unyielding.

“You’re going to pay for this later,” she muttered darkly.

“Promises, promises, Joan,” he said, and she rolled her eyes at him. “Which reminds me, is that not your real name?” She scowled at him. Damn, but she was hot when she was pissed.

“Am I answering questions or am I dancing? I sure as hell can’t do both.” She blocked his leg as he tried to dip her down. He rallied magnificently, playing it off as intentional. He continued to lead her through the dance.

Slowly, she started to get the hang of it, growing more confident in her movements. He ventured a spin, and to his very great delight she spun away from him and came tumbling back, a small smile gracing her lips.

As a general rule, turian marriages were fairly perfunctory affairs. Not a lot of room for romance in the hierarchy. But he wanted this to be special. Those images of the romantic comedies he’d watched flashed through his head. She deserved something good.

He’d practiced the steps enough that he could do them in his sleep by this point. She didn’t need to know that though. He didn’t think he’d ever live it down if she found out he’d been practicing in the main battery until late into the sleep cycle. He dipped her low, both of them breathing heavily. Her gently waving short hair framed her face like a halo.

“It’s Jeanne. My name’s Jeanne,” she murmured, so soft he almost didn’t catch it. He gently set her back on her feet and then sunk to one knee.

“Marry me, Jeanne Shepard?” he asked. She inhaled sharply. ... Her head was spinning as they danced across the room. She begrudgingly had to admit that she was enjoying herself. Garrus didn’t need to know that though.

Time slowed almost to a standstill as he dipped her down, his hand snugly wrapped around her waist. His bright blue eyes were fixed on her, and she felt her face flush.

“It’s Jeanne. My name’s Jeanne,” she murmured. A name she’d left behind long ago, a name that only Marie knew. A part of her that the clone hadn’t been able to mimic. Maybe it was time to reclaim it, that concrete reminder of her time on Earth, of who she’d once been.

Her feet touched the floor once more, and Garrus let go of her. She was reaching back out for him as he got down on one knee in front of her. Had she stepped on his foot…?

“Marry me, Jeanne Shepard?” he asked.

Oh. Oh.

She froze, and then a small laugh bubbled out of her.

“Well, that’s a little harsh,” he muttered. Still laughing, she helped him up. She rested a hand on either side of his face.

“Is that why you were so awkward earlier?” she asked.

“Listen, it’s a yes or no question.” His voice was so exasperated, so nervous.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” she said. A second later her feet left the ground as he picked her up and spun her around, kissing her soundly. He set her down and she wound her arms around his neck. “You have terrible timing.”

“Title of our autobiography,” he replied.

“True enough,” she chuckled. It was so warm, here in his arms. A safe harbour amidst the storm.

“You really trampled all over my moment,” he griped. “I had the ring all ready and everything.”

“I hate to tell you this, Vakarian, but EDI already gave me a ring.” A victory ring she’d called it, with metal from every Council homeworld. Including Earth. Shepard had almost cried.

“Do you want it or not?”

“I never said I didn’t,” she said. He rolled his eyes, but he tugged out a small box from his pocket.

She was definitely going to cry now. There was a scattering of stained glass inset in the band.

“It's made of an indestructible metal, so it won't get damaged in combat,” he explained quickly. She tugged him towards her and kissed him until they were both breathless. Home. This was home, here with him. She could die happy now. She could live even happier.

“So when’s the ceremony?” she whispered against his mouth.

“Got any plans this evening?”

“Yeah, there’s the party.”

“Perfect.”

#i look back on this now and i wonder how bioware wrote a whole clone arc and not once did someone say stop hitting yourself #wasted opportunity #anyways legion should've been in the citadel dlc and i live by that #mass effect #commander shepard #garrus vakarian #shakarian #me3 #my writing #oc: joan shepard

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docfuture · 5 years

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Princess, part 5

[This story is a prequel, set several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16. Links to some of my other work are here. Updates now planned to be biweekly–next update is scheduled for November 30th.]

Previous: Part 4

Journeyman cooked and talked, with frequent pauses to mutter at the food, while Flicker sat at the kitchen table tapping at her handcomp. She'd changed out of her costume into shorts and a T-shirt with a yellow hazard sign triangle containing an exclamation point, and he had swapped his cuffed shirt for what looked like a faded band shirt showing a group of four blurry humanoid blobs. It appeared to be a reference to an old joke; if You've Probably Never Heard of Them by Really Obscure was an actual album, it wasn't in the Database. "The Box released their vid," she said. "They wanted it on the news so people would believe Hermes isn't on Earth anymore. And since they can't talk to me, lots of reporters want to talk to the magician instead, but he isn't answering calls. They're saying he's rumored to be a heavy drinker, which sounds like a smear attempt?" "Might be," said Journeyman, while stirring at the frying pan. "But it's very likely true. That's just how the Box operates." "What do you mean?" "The Box needs at least a few magicians with basic skill at wards for security. And they want ones who are competent, experienced, and can pass a background check, because skimping on any of that is just asking for trouble. But the Box is an incredibly depressing place to work if you're at all psychically sensitive, before you even consider their workplace culture and management history. So almost anyone qualified can make a far more palatable living somewhere else." He waved the spatula. "Unless they've got other problems. And the Box will tolerate high-functioning alcoholism. Usually they have other health issues, too, because the one thing the Box does have is really good health coverage--if they didn't, nobody would work there." "That's... discouraging." "Very little about the Box isn't. But you're supposed to be off-duty." "Yeah, yeah," said Flicker. "Doc says the probability manipulation anomaly seems to have died down, at least. And whatever you're fixing is starting to smell good. I guess I am hungry." "Thought so," said Journeyman. "Cooking wasn't something that fit with my mental model of you. You can port to get food anywhere." "Yes, and I often do." He grinned. "But porting is also very handy when I discover I'm missing a spice or ingredient. Want to know how I started?" "Of course I do." Journeyman had a talent for telling stories that helped Flicker unwind, and he liked to talk while he worked. "Well, a number of years ago--you'll note I'm being deliberately vague about how many--I was doing a lot of alchemy delivery work..."

Whatever Journeyman had done with the garlic and onions might not be magic, but it smelled good enough to be. "... despaired of ever being more than mediocre at potion-making," said Journeyman. "But the witch, and I want you to picture her like someone's nice grandmother--except with a little glint in her eye that told you she just might have been a resistance fighter during the war or something--asked if I wanted to know the secret to practicing alchemy. I said I did, and she leaned closer and whispered 'Learn to cook'. So I did." Flicker smiled. "Does it actually help?" Journeyman started scooping food onto plates. "They're different arts. But once you've learned alchemy, it does help, because they have a lot of skills and habits in common. And cooking ingredients are a lot easier to get. Safer, too. I'm still only average at alchemy, at best--it takes decades to get really skilled--but I've been getting better. And I like cooking better than alchemy." He brought the plates to the table. "Dinner is served." Silence for a time while they ate. Living at normal speed, in the present. Something Flicker hadn't done much of lately. "This is really good," she said. "Thank you." "No problem." She finished eating first and put her plate in the sink. Then she sped up and checked her handcomp while she waited for Journeyman. She ran through her Database self-check and reminders list. A lot there that she'd been putting off, waiting for a better time, or for Journeyman to finally be done with his interdimensional mess. She slowed back down and watched as he finished. "All right," he said after clearing the table, "You wanted to hear the rest of my reason. Back to the living room?" "Yeah." Flicker sat on the couch with her handcomp in her lap, facing him. His smile from dinner faded, and he looked tired and worried. He clasped his hands and stared at them. "There are a couple of things I noticed that add up in an unpleasant way. At least for me. That's why I said it was personal. This is based on my own judgement. We clear on that?" Flicker frowned. "I didn't expect anything different." "First, I saw something in your visor replay that bothered me. Still bothers me." "What?" "Right at the start." Journeyman looked up at her again. "I know you've had some serious arguments with Doc. But he knows you pretty well, and he's the smartest man in the world. He knew about summoning boomerangs. He knew there might be trouble at the Box--he was on the phone to them in what, 20 seconds?" Journeyman waved a hand. "But what did he do, in the first two seconds after the alert hit? What was the most vital priority for the smartest man in the world?" Flicker swallowed. "He reminded me that Hermes was a person." "Yeah." Journeyman took a breath. "And you said the Database AI intervened too? You didn't slow down for that part." "DASI. Yes." "And did either Doc or this DASI give you even a hint about potential boomerang trouble or problems at the Box until you were already well on the way? They had time; you stopped to let Hermes talk twice." "No, they didn't." "Doc knew you'd be able to stop Hermes. And was worried enough he'd get away to take steps to try to prevent it. But it looks to me like the top priority was keeping you from killing him. Because Doc wasn't sure you wouldn't." "It was the right thing to do," said Flicker. "I was really burned out when the alert hit. And disconnected--I was depersonalizing everything, including myself, to reduce the emotional load from my shift. To try to recover. And the word 'demon' is way too broad. This is not an abstract problem for me. Some aren't as smart as dogs. Some are as smart as most humans. And I've killed demons. I'm pretty sure they were just the stupid, evil kind--but I don't know. I have to make decisions with my high speed mind, which has another categorization problem related to them that I don't fully understand yet. And the extra strain of trying to work around it makes everything harder. So I do have a problem with prejudice, and I'm not sure how to fix it." "I understand," said Journeyman. "And you have a lot of company in that prejudice. Probably a majority of humans who have an opinion about demons at all. There are evil demons, good demons, smart ones, and stupid ones. Demons with free will, and ones with very little volition--often not by their choice. Ones that start out stupid and get smarter, and a few that go the other way. Demons that look human, demons that don't, ones that can shapeshift and mimic, ones that can't. I could keep going. But there's no line that anyone can draw and with any reasonable justification say 'every demon on this side of the line is a person; every one on the other side isn't', and believe me, people have been trying for centuries. This doesn't stop the line drawing. It just gets used as an excuse for more hostility." "I don't try to draw a line," said Flicker. "But the lack of one does makes my categorization problem worse." Journeyman nodded. "Yeah. And your problems weren't all clear to me when I agreed to become your partner, and asked for backup in case I was attacked by 'demons', while working on something I had no idea would turn into a mess lasting more than a year. I'm sorry about that, and I owe you. One of the things I owe you is not making things worse if I can help it. Speculating about the non-human part of your origin in a way that would make you angry even if I were right? And just might cause you to be inclined to go kill someone because you consider them a demon and think they're your mother? Yeah, not helpful. So I won't do it." Flicker stayed at normal speed; this was an emotional problem, not an intellectual one. Speeding up wouldn't help. The anger was trying to come back. She handled it. And her background fear that she'd do something destructive by accident or overreaction was still present. It never went away completely , and she never tried to dismiss it. She didn't dare. So if Journeyman had some of the same worries? It certainly wasn't a reason to be angry at him. "Okay," she said. "I can accept that. And you did answer my other questions. Which helps." "I'm willing to help in other ways. You want to learn more about non-human people and all the challenges they face that don't get into the high-quality data parts of the Database? And why they don't? I can tell you lots about that. You want to learn about some of the mind-bending and frustrating issues that come with dueling diviners and background probability manipulation, from the perspective of a magician? Sure thing. But there are some limits." "I understand. You're being... diplomatic? There are a lot of things that are mixed together that we haven't talked about. That we need to. Tonight probably isn't the best time, though." "No argument there." "You said you need to check on some things. Can you do that from here, or do you need to port around?" "I was planning on doing it from here. I'm wiped enough that I'd rather not do a bunch of porting. Why?" "Because I need to do some memory assimilation before I sleep if I don't want to lose details--it's been a long day--and I'm already at a warning level for social isolation, but I don't want to be around most people. You don't bother me. So I don't want to leave yet. Is that okay?" "Sure, but there might be some muttering and swearing under my breath. Will that be a problem?" "No. It will just be you." Journeyman stood and looked over at his computer and the group of phones connected to chargers beside it. "Well, I guess I've run out of excuses not to look at the dumpster fires in my message drops." Flicker put on her night visor and moved a pillow so she could stretch out comfortably on the couch. "Good luck." "Thanks. Hopefully a lot of them will just be 'Hey, do you know what your partner did?'" "Doc has a Database bot for handling messages complaining about me. I can help you set one up if you want." "Tomorrow, maybe," said Journeyman as he sat down at his computer. Flicker focused on her visor display, and started work on the exercises she used to help integrate her high speed memories with her normal speed ones in a way that retained as much as possible of what she considered important. Journeyman's typing and quiet, mildly incredulous muttering were a pleasant, familiar background. She finished her first pass, and started adding odds and ends. Little millisecond-long glimpses of Rome, tiny slices of a place that she could perhaps revisit someday... ***** Dreams, pleasant ones for once. Exploring, with Journeyman, free for a little while of the driving urgency to stop bad things from happening. ***** Flicker woke in darkness. She moved her arm; the bed was... not a bed. She was on a couch. Journeyman's couch. She rubbed her eyes, then turned on her night visor, which had shut down automatically. No alerts or emergencies, one message notice. Squishy brain was fuzzy, speed mind was not fully loaded--just emergency response and recovery defaults. She sorted out a few relevant memories of the previous day and sat up. A sticky note had been placed in a spot that drew her eye. It turned out to say the same thing as the message:

Flicker: Didn't want to wake you. Food and drinks are in the fridge. If you need to leave and aren't in a hurry, please wake me so I can reset the ward on the front door. I'm down the hall, just knock on the door. You can also wake me if you need anything else. --J

She didn't need to wake him; the light amplification from her night visor was sufficient to let her find the bathroom. After washing her hands, she washed her face and considered the tired-looking stranger in the mirror. Dissociation--but putting herself together after waking always took a little time and effort. Not worth it right now. She went back out into the hallway and stopped, frowning. The door to the bedroom was ajar. Why would he tell her to knock if it was open? She glided into the bedroom. Her mind was still fuzzy. Journeyman was sleeping on his side at one edge of the bed. Did he usually sleep with the door open? He'd emphasized the importance of closed doors to wards... He knew how she felt about doors. Was it open because of her? She remembered what he'd said when she'd asked if he was expecting an attack: 'Certainly not with you here.' Did he feel safer... without that barrier between them? She looked at the other side of the bed. There was plenty of room. He would never suggest it. She understood that much. She glided over to the far side of the bed and carefully got under the covers. But the slight movement of the mattress was still enough to wake him. "Mmph?" he said. "It's just me," she said. "It's safe." "Flicker?" "Yes." A pause. A sudden whuff of air, a shift of the mattress as weight lifted, and covers fluttering down. He'd ported out. Not safe.

Next: Part 6

#FallofDocFuture #FallMisc

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generoustalelight · 4 years

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CORNUCOPIA

he was hiding in the back alley of his favorite restaurant. he was holding the knife drenched in blood, both of his hands are on the shaft making it more grotesque. he's restless, shaking and nervous, he's both scared and confused. he left his friend inside the restaurant, he totally forgot that he's with someone, because frankly, he doesn't know what to do anymore.

he's still standing from the far left of the big red door, his back facing the wall. on his right is an industrial garbage bin. he's thinking of ditchng the knife in it, but he's too conscious. he thought that that would be such a dumb move. then his eyes shuttered, he's still breathing heavily.

his hands losing grip, he felt that his whole system is deteriorating, his mind's crumbling.

someone tapped his shoulder, waking him up, it was very sudden, all his senses are heightened, he thought to himself, 'im dead meat', he doesn't care anymore. the moment he turned to his left, his eyes are met with a pair of hazel marbles looking from the deep ends of his soul.

the boy in front of him is neither aloof or frightened by all the blood. the boy's just looking beyond all his demons and doubts. it was a transition. they've been standing there for a good minute, and no one's saying a word.

he hardly noticed the boy's light skin complexion and the soft kisses of the freckles from both of the boy's cheeks. the boy is the same height as him, medium built, jet black hair, wearing a black pants and a plain white shirt. the boy's face is a perfected masterpiece, he was captured for a second, dazed by the unearthly beauty.

the boy double tapped his shoulder again, bursting his bubble, opening his eyes to the murky alley that they're in right now.

"come on,'' the only word that transcended between them, keeping him warm and safe, setting the emptiness, of every sense, enveloping his fragile self. the boy's tone is suggestive. he immediately dropped the knife, smothered the excess blood against his dark blue jeans. he forced a smile. he prompted a big sigh and sandwich his face with a loud slap from both of his hands. he continued smiling, though it is visible that some nerves on his face are still hurting, in addition his cheeks are blushing hard.

he held the boy's hands like he knew him for the longest time. his hands are shaking but the hands of his new found companion is reassuring enough to calm him within a snap.

he woke up, on an unfamiliar large brown couch, from his deep slumber. the whole room is a mystery for him. the flat is mildly lit. the walls are blank off-whites. adjacent to the couch is a turned off 32 inch flat-screen television. right of the television stand is a japanese calligraphy, wherein for him is an unknown beauty even though undesirable, that inside a black-gold accented expensive frame, and infront of it is a circa '70's vintage copper telephone. it is standing atop an ivory colored wooden mini-table. a breeze is blowing lightly on the draped white sheet of curtain behind him. on the far left side of the room is a division and what seems to be a room, the crease of the room's door and the floor is casting a light. a light that signifies life condraticting to his dead face, full of questions and irritatingly nonsensical insights.

he got up and walked toward the room. he grabbed the knob, it was cold, and before he knew it, he's already in front of the boy. the door is wide open. he's stunned. for a quick second, he thought that this entity in front of him is not human, that this must be an angel suggesting that there is peace at the end of every tragedy. the boy in front of him held both of his shoulders, exerting force, pushing him not too hard, making him move backwards, back to the couch, he wasn't able to object or to raise any reaction.

the next thing he knew is that he's already sitting with his hands clasped together. he's bowing down for some reason that even he, himself, cant seem to find logical or worthy of announcing on the open.

what he don't know is that the man beside him is already staring at him intently.

"what's your name?", he then looked up to check the source of the voice. all of the blood on his body rose to blush his cheeks. he don't understand why's he feeling this way. just by this boy's pure and innocent gaze, he was already falling into a deep rabbit hole, and he likes it.

"my name's leo, you?", he added.

"kian," after replying, a long pause pressed the air, and word after the other fought its way through, "my name is kian," his voice is shaking, he's anxious.

leo let out a chuckle. kian looked at him puzzled. he's thinking that maybe he's laughing because of the awkwardness his voice has exhibited. he was now shy, he cant seem to use words to defend himself from drowning into this pit of embarassment full of hand grenades that can be triggered by any word possible to man.

"why were you laughing?," his nervous tone never left him.

"nothing," leo replied, "why? did it bother you? don't worry i just find you really interesting , and hilarious!' he answered after pausing. his voice is very masculine, its as if like god had adjusted all the vocal chords he has and made it to fit his physique.

"no, i was just wondering," kian answered.

"so can you tell me now what happened?," leo asked.

all of it consumed kian, all the unfamiliar feelings has started creeping up. he was very scared, you can see it in his face, he seemed empty. the aura of the room shifted and made a dark turn. he started caressing his own arms. he's already crying softly, his sobs are suppressed, kian don't want anyone to see him weak or powerless, he's already stood his ground and became a man on his own.

"it's ok, everything's ok," kian reminding himself that no matter what everything will turn out fine. it's a sad scene. he's hugging himself tight, curving into a ball, shutting down slowly by slowly.

leo reached for him, like a light venturing into the depths of pain, the hug is a warm affectionate cleansing touch. all the noise in kian's mind have been voided, they were proved invalid at the moment. pain is peeling from the wounded flesh of a weak child. a heart of the soldier is being salvaged amidst a war. leo mended everything that's wrong. kian is safe, kian's on the nest of serene. leo's arms guarded him from all the worldly things they're dipping into;

ANOTHER PROSE.

I'm broken hearted.

everyday we are given a chance to change, change for the better, we always had the hand to throw, landmines to walk on, and choose what we really wanted for ourselves.

ANOTHER PROSE.

in the same parallel universe,

the last switch is all that's left, the doctor is still clueless whether to press it or not, the bright red tint of the you-know-it-will-destroy-earth button is the most tempting fuckery ever created and made available to human.

it is an excerpt of a game show that will decide the fate of the world, the humanity, and yourself.

presenting, the game show master, an anti-christ ex-convict that was nominated because of the perfect apathy to inject to the world. he has a commercial face, clean and crisp, perfect for television. his charm is incomparable. definitely the definition of sophistication; a godly incarnation of class and elegance.

he has the perfect voice to entertain millions and billions of people. he's a very likable person omitting all the vile things he did. his persona is on a different level than any mortal that has walked on the planet.

he starts every episode with a close-up. a full walkthrough of his gorgeous face. the light will flicker. red to blue to yellow to white to red to violet to yellow to red to white. the exchanges of the colors is prenotioned to hypnosis ergo to condition the cognitive.

the whole set of "the game show" is themed intergalactic, it is overly futuristic, few of the prop design are high-technology devices that can only be imagined by tens and thousands of lightyears away. but it is evident that they still attempted to capture the mediocrity of the simplest things like the buzzers, the lights, the clappers, the audience seats and the camera, it feels like a crazy-fusion of a 1980's tv show and a tv show set on a fucked up future. the set is worth a fortune, the luxury and the euphoria, and whenever they send invites it is like willy wonka spreading the golden tickets again to lure children and children-at-heart to devour life's essence. everything about it is enchanting.

the whole premise of the programme is surrounding the trials and tribulations of all the strands of beings on earth. just thought of it as the most inhumane thing you could possibly see or hear.

usually each episode is presented by the game master and a guest female assistant that will stand by as a symbol of sex and weakness. this will attract the male viewers, to make them feel powerful and more dominant. it never happened that the female guest would appear twice, it was speculated that after an episode the female guest will be brought to the game master's house, allegedly they were drugged into this, and that they were raped and tortured to death. the whole fiasco is ignored by the masses, the black market created a movement to cover up the whole thing.

today, tons of casting and auditions for the role of female asisstant for the game show has been commenced. all the top female actresses, models, pageant royalties and all the kinds and types of women in every nation of the world competes on an extensive screening for the spot. all of these girls aspiring to be slandered, this is the american dream.

going back to the one in a million chance of destroying earth, the doctor is now torn if he really wanted to save his whole family, he's thinking that all this is for his son that meant everything to him, and for his wife that gave meaning to his life.

on the other hand, he's thinking of the bribe that the game master has set him up with. the bribe is made of a lengthy letter from his mistress, an album of all their intercourse, a video, and his mistress herself strapped in an electric chair. not really a bribe, but a threat, the game master promised that he will let everything out, every nook and cranny of his dirt.

the facade of the doctor is quite amusing he's smiling while he's looking at his family sitting on the audience bawling their eyes out, hoping that the doctor would turn out to be sane and fully aware of the right and wrong, the morale, the rightful, the ethical. while, they are clueless of the failing mental health of their father- figure. his hair is turning white, riddled with stress, he's slowly dying while masking his breathing to a relax and calm tempo. he's bid farewell to himself.

life is unfair.

the doctor couldn't decide, he don't want to toss the dice. he don't want to come clean, what he decided is to end everything then and there. 'he will not be a man', that's what he has decided. he mentally prepared wrapping his balls into a thin foil full of gun powder ready to be set on fire in front of everyone, on international television. but don't worry, of course he wouldn't do the latter because it's much easier for him to slit his wrist with a shard of glass from the table that he shattered with his fist, while tapes are rolling, bleeding his life force, in front of his family, while his son is watching the whole thing bare, realizing that his hero is taking suicide as ananswer. nevertheless, their lives are assured to go down form here on, they will be shamed and ridiculed by everyone, they will hate each other and they will die hating on themselves. the world wins.

in the same alternate universe,

1st scene

the first shot includes gem with a pink back drop. gem is wearing a white shirt with scribbled letters, embossed. the soft pastel vibe of everything in this scene is so innocent and clean. her shoulder-length hair is braided, placed on just above her right collar bone. she's holding a bottle of water, with the word 'safe', printed on it. she has put down her for-colorblind glasses, put it on the stool just beside her, she wasn't sitting, she's just resting her right hand on it to support her weight.

the second frame is a sharp cut of gem's eyes and up. the rest of the screen is just a blank pink canvass that screams softness.

she looks annoyed, tired even. she's anxious that this might take a while. her mother's away for just two days, and she's thinking that this is her punishment for not going with her on the camp.

gem is staying in the room for approximately an hour now. the ventilation is not bad, but it's not good either.

gem is strictly instructed to stay in the room, not do anything, and she can't go out until further notice. she don't know why is she obeying these lunacy. she just thought that when she was forced to sleep through ammonia, that this is her farewell to her mother and all her pending chores, as well as the boring life of high school. she accepted everyhting then and there.

she didn't try to escape or object to any of it, she's out of energy, and she don't want her glasses to get caught up with the commotion and be the cause of its sweet destruction.

gem thinks that she's on an abandoned building and she thinks that the room that she's staying in is the only one who has a full renovation. she can smell the faint odor from the newly painted walls, and she reckon that it's still wet, since the dripping form the floor is gradually filled with a pink puddle of paint.

you can see gem trying to fight the ticking of the clock, she's trying to beat the unbeatable, she's trying to sabotage time.

gem heard the heavy footsteps of the men walking toward the room. or is it the same hooligans who've abducted her? she immediately acted as if she has fainted, she fell on the floor without hesitation, her body felt the impact. she's a great actor. her insides are screaming hallelujah-fuck-you. she then sensed the presence of the people who barged in, unannounced. they lifted her up, they clutched her limbs. gem is scared, these people are slimy, their arms are gooey and it smellt like rotten fish and tomatoes. her eyes are shut, she don't want to open them, she's already guessing that whatever it is that she will see, will forever scar her and give her nightmares.

gem, is different from everyone, NO SHE'S NOT. end scene.

2nd scene

inso is a native japanese from hokaido, venturing into the concrete jungles of brooklyn, new york. he's the strangest thing to ever walk in the asphalts of the pioneering city. he's always wearing that combat boots that is honest to god, bigger than him. he always carry his bright yellow duffle bag with all his belonging in it, his round cobalt blue tinted shades and his oversized grey trench coat completes the hobo man inside of him.

inso did not know the english language, he never knew how to read or write in english. his mother's tongue is pure in all his means. he never communicated to anyone until his ninth day in the city, he never really talked per se. it was only with a hotdog stand vendor that he first initiated a non-verbal conversation; at first the man was clueless what was it with all the flailing and waving of inso's hands. he thought that this flamboyant beggar has a loose screw, and is just trying to piss him off, until inso pulled out a dollar and started handing it over to the man preparing all the hotdogs. he then pointed to the regular hotdog-in-a-bun, the hunger is evident in all his next gestures. he's holding his dear life to the railing on the hotdog stand, the scene is comical and hilariously exhausting, and that's the story of his first hotdog, and how he did not die of starvation.

inso has been working in a bowling alley where he was recommended by the same hotdog vendor that he met. he's studious and an outstanding overseer of the whole place, inso manages the bowling alley; he attends to customers' on their hours of stay. he's in charge of the maintenance, the rolling pins, the bowling balls, the neon retro signs, the snack bar (even though he's just sally's assistant), the welcome rugs, the tiled columns, the light bulbs, the bathroom, the toilets, the glass doors, the tables, the gums sticking beneath the tables, the drinking fountain, the bowling gloves, the back of the bowling alley, and the red back door.

he's been living in the bowling alley for almost two months until he's decided to move out to get an apartment. within the span of two months he learned how to speak in english, but not fluently, and definitely not with his accent gone. he started taking a bath on a daily basis. he started eating normal food, like a normal human being, and fully left the hotdog diet. he can now save for his future, to plan for his own house, to start his new life, his days are better.

everything's turning out fine, or so he hoped.

on the way to work inso was stopped by a road block, in front of him, a whole street on a riot, garbage and blood and a dead body lying comfortable in the heated up cement, even the path walk is closed, the crowd is wild on murmuring and added gibberish on the scene of the crime.

police investigators and press are there, covering for the whole event. police tapes are tied from one light post to another and from the metal gate of the blue apartment to a tree from across the street.

inso is forced to walk on the alley located beside the city boutique. even though it is early in the morning, the darkness from the alley way is menacing, scaring him not to take that trail. but he remembered that it's almost 10 in the morning and he has to get in the bowling center as soon as possible.

inso is hugging his duffle bag, removed his glasses, and scurried over the alley, but not an inch away from the main road, he was struck by a hard thing on the head. he remembered that the last thing he saw was a metal baseball bat pointing to the ground. it was pointed towards the ground, stained by blood, he thought that it came from his head. the blow from the back of his head fully paralyzed him and shocked his nerves, he was lying on the ground helpless, no one can hear him, no one will hear him.

inso heard a truck door being opened, he deducted the latter because of the metal rustling noise it made, the heavy footsteps of the men walking toward the alley, alarmed, he tried to get up immediately his glasses are shattered . he's basically on a vegetative state now. he can see his duffle bag being searched and emptied by two men, wearing a flat- ironed suit and high-end slacks. they lifted the whole bag and threw it after. their faces are covered with traditional japanese masks, big eyes and sculpted fangs. his eyes are closing on him, and the last thing he saw he passed out is his home.

on-break

as i grew older, i also realize that i am slowly losing all my white shirts.

i have 10 white shirts when i was on 1st grade, i always wore a white sando beneath my plain white shirt beneath a crisp-and-clean white polo tucked into my above-knee khaki shorts. i go to school with that and a pair of shiny black shoes, carrying my red power rangers bag. i also wore white whenever i'm home, i just loved that color when i was young, it feels clean, it looks clean, it is like a canvass ready for all the scribbles i can make.

when i was on 3rd grade i only used nine, my tenth white shirt became too tight, or maybe im becoming too big, well the point is that it never fitted me anymore. i am really eager to learn about the kid-spirit of our elementary school, that's why i would go ahead and abandon my polo to explore the psyche of my peers, and also to explore the garden behind the sixth graders, and find some worms, and ants, and plants that retreats by the slightest of human touch. i became a lot bigger, it feels like all the knowledge i gather helped me grow faster.

the following year my mom replaced all my white shirts, she noticed how fast i grow physically, and replaced it with eight new ones, same color, same fabric, same price range. this time she bought eight pieces of large to extra large white shirts, just to make sure we have that allowance. the eight new shirts felt comfortable and familiar.

i've had one of my new shirts pulled out of my closet, i wanted to dye it with different colors, like that one shirt with blots of red, blue, green, and yellow and orange, all over it. I have seen it in an art show on the television,"Art Angel". this part of my childhood is where i've started experimenting. i'm trying to understand myself, i'm trying to look at trends, that can never better me, my friends are becoming greedy and they've stopped talking to me. i'm left with seven shirts, and a flamboyant one, late grade school.

one of my shirt's got wrecked when i got in a fight outside school, there was this stupid boy on my class who kept bothering me, and kept provoking me to start this petty fight with him, afterschool, just because he thought that i find him irritating, which is accurate, and that he thought that this problem can be solved by a traditional-outdated fist fight. i never acknowledged this barbarian, even though by that time i let him have it. when i got out of class, i removed my white polo, because i need to get this home white and clean.

i waited for him at a nearby lot, for this to get over with, as soon as possible. he showed up and he had some friends come over to speculate. as soon as he got there you can definbitely see his face is all red and you can easily decipher that he was properly fueled with hatred before going on here, he ran towards me and grabbed me by my shirt, my shirt, mind you this is one of my favorite shirts, i immediately pinned him down, i exerted all my force with my fist struck a blow on his vertbrae as explosive as i could.

i heard him groaned, and all the spectators jumped on me, they were punching me while on ground, kicking me with their spiked shoes. after three minutes they left me, my shirt is ripped. i fucking hate this soccer gang.

white shirts remaining: six

a couple of years later, i replaced two of my white shirts with two black staple tees. black is now my new favorite color. it just represents my brand that time. an emotional teen, bad personality, bad attitude, mediocre fashion.

at the time, i feel troubled, even though i certainly know i am not. i seek attention so hard i can barely read which character i wanted to play, what i am, and what i wanted to be. black just represented the void that i am feeling on that critical days of my adolescence. i still wear my white shirts, just not that often.

peak of my adolescence, one white shirt became the bearer of the intensity of my raging hormones. end of phase.

the last three white shirts that i have is burried beneath all the garbage that i have in my closet. i realize that i cannot wear them anymore, or rather i dont want to wear them anymore. my white shirts reminded me of the innocence that i have back then. but in all fairness, everything that i have right now is something i owe to those white shirts that help me and watched me grew up. i realize that as one age nothing can be permanent but most importantly I've learn that time will change you and will eat you up alive, so as soon as now grab that white shirt and wear it with pride.

3rd scene

gopshi is an indian national that grew up in america. as soon as you see him, you'll assume that he's fluent in speaking his national language. his skin is fair and deep. his eyes are a mix between almond brown and happy, a pair of expensive marbles. gopshi's hair's a shiny jet black, it's length is proper for a boy going to a prep school on whales. his teeth are porcelain white, he's not short, but not really tall.

gopshi was adopted by a couple that intends to save everyone by every means that can result to death, both philantrophist, seeming to tour the world for world peace.

gopshi, has three brothers and four sisters, each of his sibling came from a different race.

there is, sana, a japanese girl that was adopted when she was six. her parents are both unknown by the time of her adoption, even though she was legally adopted and brought out of japan. her foster parents have to fight the yakuza's just to take full custody of her. sana is a smart kid, finished reading and disserting all books varying from ancient literature, scientifical theories and related researches, computer programming, art, philosophy, international languages and so on.

next is, lance he's a british lad that was abandoned when he was six moths old, lance has the charm of kings and emperors, lance is the very best public speaker there is. no one knows where did he get this gift of eloquence, but on thing's for sure, lance can convince, persuade, question and overpower anyone, by only using his words. lance has also a strong morale compass and is very passionate in valuing one's perspective of a certain matter. he's very composed and reliable and he's the most likely to rule the world one day

then there is, arnauv, out of all the adopted children arnauv is the most distant to everyone. he's very secretive and always incognito. arnauv loves planes. he's really interested on aeronautics, and you will know it, you can always see him at somewhere high, he's either seen sitting on the ledge of the mansion's roof or at the top of their humungous tree. arnauv has always been like this. he's s walking question and it was paired with his appearance, he has a platinum blonde hair, crew cut, his eyes are blue, his skin is pale and lips are salmon pink. he's the most good looking out of the bunch, but his timid personality makes it seem like he's untouchable he only has one friend and it is his brother key.

key is african. he's everyone's friend, having experience the brush of poverty at an early age. he was adopted when he was ten, rescued from child trafficking bust and brought to the house. key is the kindest, he's polite and respectful. key stands with people on their shines and storms. key has a very high EQ. he's fond of animals and plants, he cares for the living things and their betterment. key's charm relies on his honest gesture and kind words. the only flaw key has is his naivete, he can be easily manipulated because of the trust he give to everyone. but his strength lies within the goodness of his heart that everyone seems to fall for. everyone seems to love him, regardless.

next in line is phirayatta, or as they call her phir. phir is from thailand, she's a miracle child of the king, but wasn't really acknowledged because of the controverisies of her biological mother. the king didn't really wanted phir, that's why when she was little her father wanted her to be assassinated, the king has hired, murderers, assassins, executioners and hitmans all over the world to end her. but, the catch is she won't die. phir was cared by the world. no one can harm her. ever since she was a little girl multiple attempts of murders have failed in causing her death, which lead the king to abandoning her. it is when she was adopted. phir has the gift of luck.

sinai is the youngest among all them, she was brought in the house by their foster parent sinai has a unique rich skin color, neither pale nor, deep, her complexion is changing, but most of the time it's blue. every feature of sinai seems normal, except her skin. with no words sinai was introduced to the family, their parents never really talked about sinai's ancestry or race. sinai was just always the happy pill, she's impulsive, and jitterey, she's naive because of age, but she's tactical and reliable. sinai's information is unavailable as of the moment.

then we have sky, sky is the last israeli on the planet. the whole country of isarael has been annihilated. it has become the enemy of the world. there is a long war that happened involving the said country and the new world. the government has decided to put an end to israel's existence by dropping nuclear missiles to its territory, all of israel has turned to ashes and dust. after three years, the philantrophists visited the ruins of israel and to their surprise there roams a child barefoot, hiding and binging on the shadows of the ruins. her eyes are as green as an emeralds. sky's real name is unknown. sky was raised to be like a normal child, a dream israel, her old country, would dream to have.

5th scene

dear you,

let this be known.

"i would carve my heart just so that it will still fit your hands."

hi, i am just a nobody but i really hope you're reading this, i truly wish that you're taking time to insert this to your crunched up schedule, not minding the hassle that this might cause, and not really minding to whom this came from.

well, this is just another letter, one of the thousands i have already sent you. this is very likely with the same weight as the other writings you've already received. this has the same feels, with the same undying message. but what seperate this from all letters you've already got is that i know that this is such a stretch, because, lucky you, this will be the last one.

hi again, i just wanted to say that i love you. and for god's sake i am devoting my life to every sense of that phrase. sacrificing all the truth there is just to show you how sincere i am.

i really do love you. i love you so much that i am actually losing my sanity, i love you so much that i can promise that your name will be my last words, i love you so much even if you would hate me, i will still love you unconditionally. i love you so much that i'd ignore my joy, for your own pleasure. i will love you even if i know that its the cause of my depression.

i would carve my heart just so that it can bleed your color.

very rare that i will forget how you actually smell, how your gaze has the immense effect on me, how you taste from the navel up, the sensation of your kisses, how wonderful your lips taste. i will never forget how you grasped my wholeness and swallowed all me. i love your dirt and riches, and lunacy.

i love you so much that i wanted you to know i am always by your side. looking from afar. breathing the same air. counting every move you make, noting every person you encounter on a daily. i am just an inch away in grabbing you and making love to you. i am just insanely in love, i could die any moment. i am itching form holding you here in my arms i will never let you go, i am dying just thinking of devouring all the good things that you are. i wanted to end you, i wanted to make you happy, i will make your everyday as remarkable and thrilling as possible. i will not stop loving you, i will not stop thinking of you, i cannot stop thinking of how can i murder you, in your sleep, while you're floating from acid, waiting for me, or so i believe.

i can still remember all the good things we've shared and all the good times we've had. we're much truthful, we're kinder, we're gentler for the world. we're polar opposites but everyone can clearly see how totally inlove we are with each other. we have set aside our differences, we are respectful and understanding. we've let ourselves change each other's hearts. we became the best versions of ourselves, we've helped each other grow and learn each and every day we're together. we trusted each other that we will not draw blood, or hate, or envy towards one another. we're so inlove at the time we forgot that evil do exist, we're so inlove we forgot about sinning. we're so inlove we never thought of our failing, of our falling, of our flailing. we're never able to prevent it, that's why we bled too much. that's why i am so close in losing my life, that's why i never had imagined another world that you're not beside me.

i would carve my heart so that you would have two, and you can destroy mine, happily.

i am very sorry that this is so sudden, but i am ecstatic because finally, finally, i have finished carving my heart, but why am i still alive, love? why am i still breathing? why am i still here?why are you not moving? why are you not breathing? why are you bleeding? love, where is your heart?

6th scene

I don't know if I like hospitals or not.

I can't remember all my encounters with hospitals thats why i have a minimal amount of knowledge in regards to the latter. I just used to think that its a place for sick-dying type of people. Its generally a sad place for my young self. I can't remember how all the hospitals that I've been to looked like visually, but I can clearly remember how they've smellt. It smelled like used cotton balls that's dripping of alcohol for sanitary purposes of some sort. It also smelled like clean flasks and glass tubes and new aluminum door knobs. I based the smell of death to that same smell of a familiar hospital.

When I was young I can clearly remember that I really wanted to be a doctor. I can't remember what kind and why, but, I just strongly feel back then that I should be one.

on-break

DISCLAIMER: This is a subjective opinion about my third team on my first job. All the statements and opinions that will be made on this narrative, is strictly personal and does not reflect the truth on the subjects. Every team mate will be given a pseudonym to protect their privacy.

Let's start.

Skyflakes. has a personality of a white, thin, salty papery biscuit. one of the nicest person in our whole team. skyflakes has greeted me once, i never greeted back. the greeting ended there. we rarely talk, but once we were forced to do so because of a common work-friend. skyflakes is very preserved. i never hated skyflakes, but i am uncertain if the feeling's mutual.

Moon. moon doesn't get me at all, shocker. moon is like my counter part on an alternate universe, the receptiveness on moon's personality never worked for me. moon pretended that i am an open book that can be easily deciphered. I totally murdered moon's psyche by literally knowing everything that the workplace has expected on me, including moon's assumptions. but i liked moon very much, i don't know if it is because of the pretenses or is it because i am fascinated by the fact that i can toy with moon's feelings.

Strip. is a so-so character. strip realize everything that i talk about but it is very often that strip talks to me about them. strip is an open letter that you can read on a twitter page of an angsty adolescent

4th scene

let's talk about the creation of the keyboard, where did it really came from. do you think it came hand-in-hand, a plus-one, a done deal package together with the first computer? do you think the first known computer is as useful as it would be if it will come with a ready made keyboard? who invented keyboard? who decided that this piece of 3D plastic boxes of numbers, letters and symbols should be called as it is? is the word keyboard technically acknowledged.

7th scene

this is an account of all the things i would've done if the world will end tomorrow, assuming i have exactly 26 hours to live before the world will meet its fate for some reason.

for the first two hours i would try to murder whoever will talk to me about their own itenerary in this situtation. just ki

8th scene

words are fascinating. words made me love the world, even though it's unbearable. words found me, more than i found them. it is introduced to me as a friend, as someone who i can turn to. someone that can always take me to perfect places. someone i can truly trust. someone that i can whisper my secrets to, someone that can be my secret, someone that can share secrets with me. then it grew on me. it became a parental support, it guided me. it helped me. it taught me things. it straighten my back, words released me from slouching, from boredom, from restrain. it molded me to the person i am today. it made me realize things, i've ingested it and its essence. i mimicked it like a whole stage full of actors. words are just releasing the good and the beautiful, without shying away with its ugly and distastefulness. words are flexible, they can make or break, it can be a weapon for sympathy and apathy, it can end or start war. words fly and swim and they climb, they will run if needed and walk for intensities.

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bipolyjack · 7 years

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#15 for Flechette and Ember because no one has ever played with Flechette’s hair before.

yo this is cute as hell

“Now, crossthe first strand over the first, along with the additional strand youjust picked up from the scalp,” said the chipper voice of the elfstylist in Ember's AR. Ember kept one eye half-focused on the littlewindow in the corner of their vision, watching the elf's slenderfingers weave the brilliant purple strands of a plump, pleasant-facedhuman's hair together with no apparent effort. Ember, meanwhile, hadalready run out of fingers and there was a lot of loose strands ofFlechette's hair left.

“How are yousupposed to hold on to all of it?” Ember muttered, juggling some ofthe strands to their other hand and losing several stray hairs in theprocess. The meager progress they'd made down the right side ofFlechette's scalp was mediocre at best. Blinking to pause the video,Ember combed Flechette's hair loose again, enjoying the silky textureenough to forget their frustration for a second. “Hang on, lemmefind a better tutorial. This one's too fragging complicated.”

They could tellFlechette was smiling, though she dutifully refrained from turningaround. “I thought it was supposed to be a simple process.”

“I, uh, mightapicked a hard one by accident. Gimme a sec.” Ember flicked througha few thumbnails in their AR window and selected one with no verbalinstructions, but simply a pair of hands and a mannequin head. Eachstrand that the disembodied hands picked up briefly glowed as itcrossed under or over the others, and Ember blink-paused after eachstep, trying to mimic the exact configuration of hair and fingers andwhen to transfer strands to different hands. This time they made itall the way to the end of Flechette's short hair and found themselfwith a new dilemma. “Fletch? The chick in the vid just used like arubber band or something to keep it all together at the end. Do you,like, have one of those? Or two? I think I need two.”

“Oh –elastic bands, I bet. Hang on.” Flechette slumped abruptly backagainst Ember, who leaned their shoulder into her back to keep herupright rather than letting go of the (admittedly loose and uneven)braid they'd finally achieved. The two of them were sitting on thefloor of Flechette's living room, ignoring the couch in favor of theplush carpet.

Flechette satforward a few moments later. “I ordered some. They should be hereinside of ten minutes.”

“Oh my god, Ihave to hold all this hair for ten minutes?”

“Listen,Ember, if I didn't have a corp-exec-level Ultra-Prime Eco membership,you would be holding my hair for ten days to two weeks. Also, youdon't have to keep holding my hair.”

“Are youkidding? Look – look at this masterpiece.” Ember got the haircondensed into one bundle and used their free hand to draw a box inthe air and send a picture to Flechette over the Matrix. “Look atthat. I can't let go of it now.”

Flechette'sshoulders rose a little as she visibly bit back a laugh. “Are youonly doing the one side of my head?”

“Can't do theother side while I'm still holding onto this side. So I gotta holdonto this side until the elastic bands get here. How come you don'thave any, by the way?”

“Do you see mepulling my hair back often?”

True. Untilrecently, Ember had only seen Flechette with her hair slickedstraight back off her forehead, lying flat to the nape of her neck,almost helmet-like. When she came out of the bathroom after a shower,it hung forward along her cheekbones, which was cute. “Has anyonedone it for you before? Your hair.”

“No, and I betno one's done yours either.”

Also true. Thatwas a dumb question.

Ember leanedforward and rested their chin on Flechette's shoulder. “Hey, pullup that vid, the one with the – yeah. I think it's about sixminutes long.”

Four minuteslater, Flechette received the AR alert and stood carefully, Emberholding doggedly on to her hair, and shuffled to the front door ofher apartment to collect the little box from the Eco drone outside.She cut through the tape with a fingernail and tore the plasticpacket open, passing a new, unstretched elastic over her shoulder toEmber. It took them a try or two to get the hang of stretching itaround their fingers and Flechette's hair at the same time, but theystruggled along until they had two little uneven pigtails at the endof a pair of lopsided French braids and sent another picture toFlechette. “That look okay?”

“Wow, you didit.” She turned around finally, grinning, hands patting at theslightly lumpy braids. “I'm going to go look in the mirror. Beright back.”

Ember beamed,watching her go. Hopefully they'd get a bunch more chances topractice.

#flember #flechette #ember #shadowrun #kp writes a thing #stonewashedearthtones

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defunctblogtobedeleted · 5 years

Text

11/15/19 3:33am - goin home, trying new things

So the trip home to see the family was wonderful. Actually I spent a little too long watching TV before leaving and waiting for the gas guy to turn on the heat, so I left a little late and was damn near passing out on the drive over. Had to stop a few times to nap, but made it. Got caught up on The Adventure Zone again. I’m really excited for this new story they’re gonna do, it’s like Harry Potter meets My Hero Academia. Pretty fuckin neato.

But yeah I got there had a beer with my mom and went to the game and froze my fucking BALLS off watching taven play football. ugh jesus. And the poor guys were against a team like 4 times bigger than them, I swear they didn’t get double digit offensive yardage. They’d get an offsides call and start first and 5, hand off the ball to taven three times in a row and he’d pick up 1 yard, 1 yard, -2 yards, and they’d punt it away again. I don’t think I saw a single first down lol. Taven got hurt so we left in the fourth, they were down 77-0 with 10 minutes left -_-

But still, good to see him play lol. It wasn’t about watching a win, it was about being there for him on his birthday. Fuck that sucks though lol. I always hated playing in the cold.

Most of the weekend I hung out with wes at his and jenny’s place. We did hang out with mom and the fam for a bonfire on saturday, I ate as much guac as I could fit in my face, we had a couple beers, made some fires. It was sweet. Then we played some super metroid before I started passing out.

Sunday wes and I beat the game and went to breakfast. My dad wasn’t around so I drove out to visit JMell in NoVa instead. His place is pretty nice, and we mostly watched some funny youtube videos. Good ol Rack Em Willie and other crackhead vids and this guy Super Sus and general nonsense. Couldn’t go crazy because I needed to make it back for work.

So I drove back. Made it to Jill’s at 2 and she helped keep me awake until I needed to get ready for work because I picked up a daytime shift from 7 to 5. And I slogged through that just fine. Got a raise at work, but like the bare minimum, but I’llll fucking take it. It’s been the exact same as every other time I got a raise I think lmfao. A little extra pocket cash to throw at new toys is nothing to scoff at, though, I need another butt plug and stuff lmfao.

I was supposed to roll from there to durham to watch the new rick and morty, but I passed out and overslept by an hour instead. fucking hate when my bodily needs get in the way of me trying to hang out with people for 48 hours straight, yknow? Sucks.

But I went to slosh still, had a lovely chill time. Made plans to go home to Jill but ended up bouncing to another bar with a bunch of people there and drank for another hour. Got me in a little hot water, but whatever. Worth it I think lol. I just can’t help myself from hanging out with as many people as long as possible.

Jill and I woke up at like 2 and hung out most of the day just fucking around watching tv. I bailed to go run some errands and do karaoke. Had to get some epoxy so I could put together my butt plug tail. I finally knocked that out this evening before work, I think it turned out great. Gotta try it out soon :3

But karaoke was quiet. Not a lot of people came out because it was like bitter cold and windy and had been raining all day. So on the plus side I got to sing like five songs. On the downside, I didn’t get to flirt with any new people lolol. An old stripper friend I had made there, Kellene, showed up and we talked about how I was in her dream the night before and chit chatted a bit. Got to sing a little together, I love her fucking voice. But at the end of the night she asked me for some money to help pay for her tab. I was like sure and gave her $8, she said I was sweet asked if I wanted to do anything with her I was like huwhaaa I guess? maybe we make out somewhere? Idk. Then she roams the room around and comes back and asks me for money again and I was like dude I gave you everything in my wallet, you have my $8 right there in your hand. And she says “no this is my $8 I got it from my purse,” while she opens her purse and pulls the rest of the money she needs out of it. I was like... pretty flabbergasted. Like not like floored, more still amused than anything. Drunk people are funny.

Also after I sang some Drake my beautiful bartender Jaime said I should sing Frank Ocean. Killed it singing self control, and she like held my hands and said I love you like she has the past couple weeks. I made a slight mistake and let my curiosity get the better of me. It’s definitely a rule of mine to not ask girls who are working out, but I was just like “look I know this is a little inapprop, but would you want to go out sometime?” and she says “yeah, as friends, definitely.” and I’m like oooooof. She had to take care of another customer so I just walked away from that one. Glad I cleared that up though I really thought she was being flirty and cutesy but I’m just a knucklehead. Could’ve been worse lmfao.

Anyway, went home with Jill, we hung out all day again watching this mediocre 911 show. Kinda fun at points though. It was mostly nice just chilling with her early since I’d blown her off til really late a couple times in a row.

Then spice was last night and ho. my. god. It was the normal confection of watching people get beat, not meeting as people this time around because I knew a whole bunch of people that were there already. But I did meet a few. Hung out with the cute boy from the fashion show for a while. We have these like really awkward pauses in conversation though where he doesn’t like ask me anything and I run out of things to say but he’s just staring at me and grinning so intently. Idk, man. Lol. I was supposed to do a scene that I had talked out with someone, but they unfortunately called in sick. So I thought I wasn’t gonna do anything, but then I ended up chit chatting with Neko and he offered to beat on me that night.

Wowowoww bottoming a REAL impact scene was intense. Like IN. TENSE. like I was thinking about tapping out a few times from the pain of it, but then he’d take a break and scratch me or rub my back and it would just feel so gooooood. By the end I was taking these hits in the back and like shivering with excitement/adrenaline/idk what. He like threw his thigh between my legs while I was up on the cross to support me and started rubbing my back and bit my shoulder and hnnnnng. god I just started lightly scratching and chewing on his arm. I was literally in uncontrollable shivers and giggles afterward, it was actually probably too much lol but I lovvvved it. I feel like I really Get it now. Especially as I sit on my ass covered in bruises today lol. Then my friend Bun squish cuddled me until I came back down to normalcy. Maya and Jill came to watch, actually, they got to see it happen so that was kinda rad. Jill wanted to go dancing at alchemy afterward but I was like no fucking way could I dance after taking that lol. So I drug them out to boxcar with me and we played some galaga and skee ball and foosball and tekken. Me and Jill almost got a shutout on Maya+some rando, and then the randos were like nahhhh so I beat Jill+Maya 2v1. We played again later and I lost the set though. But I was dressed up as a kitty all through boxcar lol, kinda neat. We stayed up til 6am just watching Daria and ranodm youtube shit.

Slept a long time, almost had a weird fight with Jill, smoothed that over, took a bath for a few hours and I’ve been working. Excited to get off though, but not for any reason in particular. Just fuck work I guess? lol.

I really felt like I needed to write about that impact scene while it was fresh. It’s kinda stuck in my head. :3

I’ve got emo karaoke in a few days, should be a lot of fun. <3 nothing too exciting coming up though. Having to schedule a bunch of extra work days to appease my boss kinda suckkssss but whatever I’ll take the money lol.

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seenashblog · 5 years

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This podcast group I’m in is so bizarre. There’s been one sincerely nice person in the whole lot so far, and thank goodness because I was seconds away from leaving it. I mean, do we have leprosy? “Need segments from others to fill out our October episodes” - agreed, they gave email addy, edited segment for them, sent it, never heard back. “We need more promo exchanges for October, DM us” - did so, never heard back. “We need help editing our ep for tomorrow” - responded within the hour, asked what format, they replied with an answer that made me think they weren’t aware there were more than 2 forms of files out there but whatever, I respond within 12 mins., 2 hrs. passes, finally msg again hey I’ll need it within the next hour because I’m busy tonight, reply was Oh sorry somebody else snagged it. Yes because I was viewing it as privilege vs. getting a shout-out on your mediocre show that somehow has insane numbers. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me, fool me three times it’s never again. (And let’s not forget when I asked if people would kindly reply to that gal’s tweet with our handle to suggest she consider us to feature in her podcast rec for SPN fans vid, I got snide thrown back at me.) And on follow friday all it is, is a circle jerk, they just asskiss the same people over and over again. I’m so done.

#nash vents

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the1997diaries · 7 years

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A Letter to My 20 year old Self

Dear 20 year old me,

8 years ago, you were naive and you really don't have any idea of what path to take in the future.

7 years ago, when you woke up wanting to become an architect or an interior designer. Remember that time when you were young, you love sneaking to your father's floor plan and making him his coffee just to take a peek on what he is currently working on....

6 years ago, while filming your Noli Me Tangere school project, you realized that directing excites you a lot. Something to look forward everyday.

5 years ago, when you have to make the biggest decision in your life— what college program to choose? You felt that it makes you vulnerable whenever that thought pops up your head during those time.

4 years ago, when you decided to take up a program that is a contradictory to what you really love— films and designs.

3 years ago, you took Marketing Management as a major. It scares you a lot esp with terror professors you have and tons of papers to submit even if your were just in your first year. You even lost your scholarship but reap it again after a semester of sowing seeds.

2 years ago, you met a lot of random friends. You grew up. You learnt one of the biggest lesson in life— friends will come and go and that’s normal. You make an effort to make yourself happy and reward yourself every now and then.

Last year, you finally decided to free yourself from stress and all; you owe it to yourself. You regain your scholarship, met new friends, became dean’s lister, have the things you want and most esp you learnt to love yourself.

Just as how much you want to bring back your 18th birthday... you know you got this okay? don't ever settle for mediocrity for you... absolutely know that there is more than that strive for it, grab it, embrace it. don't you dare doubt yourself, just know that you can do it. and if you ever feel like giving up or when procrastination strikes upon you hey girl your getting your parent's butt sweating off, work harder, greatness is earned not by just luck. kneel down, look above and you know what to do. guard yourself but do not barricade it from the world.constantly remind yourself that you need people too. you have your mind set to be independent but just be honest to yourself that you need them more than them to you. always remember that all people are current assets but you're the only fixed one. be grateful always and enjoy the little things. as you grow never be ashamed that you still have to blow bubbles every now and then just to make you happy. lastly, ace you are not special and you are never the sun, the world doesn't revolve around you.

And for the status quo, wherever this path is taking you, you know the Lord has it planned already for you and just trust your life to Him. Hopefully, after 8 months, you'll be finishing what you started and will proudly be saying that even though you weren't able to pursue the choices you really want, you can still be someone you would have never thought you will become. *deep sighs* Fighting! *fingers crossed* #RoadToSMX

But hey, Happy Birthday self. dami mong sinabi just promise me you'll be better this time. Arasso?!!

Love, 20 year old me.

August 29, 2017— my birthYAY!

When I went to school, my classmates greeted me Happy Birthday and it's just so overwhelming that even unfamiliar and random people also greeted me like hey, I know you but I don't know you too. Get me? Lels. That night on the day of my birthday, me and my gals went out to Mcdo to have a little celebration. We talked random things as if we were the only people in the fast food and went home after. I kind of like feeling giddy cos Kuya Labs promised me to give me something that I will really love. Then minutes later, I got a message from him... its a video actually. Gawhd its a video greeting of my old crush way back in Highschool. Tbh that is the second vid he made for my birthday and I'm so shookt and kilig as well. Waaaaaaaah! He sang few lines and waaaah his voice... ok staaap.

“A true friend is the last person to stay by your side when a tornado suddenly hits you”. And I must say, these lovely people are those people. So blessed to have these guys by my side through ups and downs. Though inevitable misunderstanding may happen, we will always choose friendship more than anything. Love you guys... like... a... lot...

#memoirs

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vermontparnasse · 8 years

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in honor of watching the survivor intro vids last night here are my thoughts on the s34 cast (spoilers for tribe divisions!):

caleb: thanks to his favorable edit in kaoh rong i don’t hate him as much as i know i would have if he’d ended up staying longer. i don’t particularly care either way. i’m not rooting for him, but at the same time, i guess i’m glad he gets a second chance. medical evacuation is not the way to go.

varner: can’t fucking stand him. he thinks so highly of himself when he’s just incredibly mediocre. i was so pleasantly surprised by his early exit from cambodia. let’s have a repeat performance!

malcolm: ugh...... a #problematic fave. rewatching his old seasons he says so much casually misogynistic shit and i want to HATE HIM but i just cannot. he is such a strong player willing to make gutsy moves and i’m excited to see him play again even if he is insufferably cocky. i’ll probably get frustrated with him after like two eps though. it’s a love/hate relationship. the fact that he’s one of my favorite male players this season honestly should say something about the low quality of male player.

tony: i HATE!!!!! HIM!!!!!!!!! honestly one of my least favorite players. of course i recognize that he’s great at the game, but he is just too obnoxious for me to tolerate. i need him to go early. if he wins again i will never forgive this show

troyzan: literally fuck off

aubry: QUEEN OF MY HEART....... probably the person i’m most hoping will win at this point. she should have won kaoh rong so i need closure. i’m afraid that she’s going to have a big target on her back though for being such a formidable player on a recent season :(

ciera: listen..... this is where the phrase too much of a good thing comes into play. ciera is one of my all time favorites. her game in bvw? #revolutionary. (not the mom thing sjklfdjs who cares, but forcing tyson to draw rocks????? ICONIC!) but having her again so soon on cambodia already felt a bit stale. we don’t need another ciera season. that said, she’s smart and she plays hard, which i appreciate.

hali: one of the only tolerable people from worlds apart imo. i think she has the potential to be really interesting. reserving judgement. she and a few others are getting a lot of shit for ‘not being a game changer’ but the dumb season theme isn’t her fault.

sandra: long live the queen.... i don’t want to see her go early but if these people don’t get her out first they are idiots??

michaela: LOVE HER and i’m excited she has the advantage of no one other than zeke knowing her style of gameplay. i think she realizes she came on a bit too strong in mvgx so hopefully she’ll reign it in a bit and not let them see how much of a physical and strategic threat she is right off the bat.

andrea: again, too much of a good thing... but also whatever, i really love andrea. she was playing such a good game in caramoan. i’ll be interested to see her strategy here.

cirie: THIS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! probably the one person in this entire cast most deserving of the title of game changer lmfao. of course everyone knows how huge of a threat she is which also killed her game in hvv so i don’t have terribly high hopes of her making it to the end...... but god!!! imagine if cirie wins in this year of our lord 2k17!!!!!!!

debbie: ugh why. please go home early.

sarah: ........ i don’t rly care about her either way idk

sierra: i have literally no opinion on her

brad: in the immortal words of gervase’s niece: fuck you brad culpepper

JT: hands down my favorite male player this season!!!!!! i’m hoping that having ozzy on his tribe will take some of the heat off for being such a threat. i’m so glad he gets to redeem himself for that hvv fiasco.

ozzy: lmao he’s such a tool and his game in south pacific was a mess but i also loved him when i was younger so i’m sort of excited to see him play again. it’s complicated. also i believe with my entire heart and soul that ozzy is the one person on this cast who doesn’t have any chance at winning. actually maybe troyzan and brad as well for being too obnoxious and too rich, respectively. anyway. ozzy will always be the Ultimate physical competitor, but it takes a lot more than that to win this game. i think losing by one vote in cook islands is as close as he’s gonna get.

tai: i mean... i like tai and i’m sure we would be good pals irl, but he has proven that he is just not good at survivor. his game in kaoh rong was a MESS and i don’t want to sit through that again. i am so relieved that he and debbie are separated from aubry tho that’s the important thing.

zeke: ugh i’m really not a huge fan. there’s something i find rly condescending about him that i hate. that said, there are a lot of people i hate more this season so i wouldn’t mind if he coasts into the merge. i just wouldn’t want to see him win.

#just my onion etc etc #i know there are a few unpopular opinions in here but oh well #survivor blogging

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alo-piss-trancy · 6 years

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This isn't omo related at all (that said, sorry if this ends up in main game tags i'm too tired to censor all of the name drops) but I think some of my followers are into dmc maybe or at least a few other omo blogs were SO: out of 1, 3 and 4 for ps3, which is the best game for someone brand new to the series (i will play 2 at some point but that seems hated by 90% of fans so it's gonna be saved for later)? Not in terms of story bc tbh I heard none of them are that gr8 and I don't really care, just in terms of combat depth, new-player friendliness, and level design. Basically I wanna beat shit up with a bunch of cool weapons and look sexy while doing it and not get lost every 3 seconds.

I got the triple pack and the basic 4th a few days ago bc I read that bayo was inspired by/borrowed elements from them so I was like 'Shit I loved bayo I gotta check em out' (and also i saw hot art of the two main guys and that. May have tempted me too.) And also they were both on sale used so I figured it wouldn't be a big loss, but it was actually a lot of trouble to get the 4th one so I can't/refuse to return them. So yeah I def wanna play them all at some point, even if some are mediocre.

I started playing 4 and got to mission 6 (except I'm stuck bc it doesn't do a gr8 job telling u where to go after a part so i need to look up a vid for visuals oops) but I'm actually kinda (really) disappointed with it? Some of it is admittedly unfair bias bc I've been spoiled by the butter-smooth combat and incredible colours/depth/graphics of bayo1/2 on wiiu and...obviously these games are older and kinda clunky. Like u can literally see the exact parts that bayo borrowed except in dmc4 they're rougher and uglier and much less satisfying. Also the camera controls like absolute ass at times it's fixed in so many areas i'm fucking suffering trying to navigate and walk blindly down halls with my tiny map bc you can't just. Swivel the camera to look where you're going. The combat also doesn't seem as deep as I expected, but that might just be bc I'm so early in the game. The bosses have been cool but the basic enemies have actually been pretty boring. They don't seem to do any real damage at all but it's also a hassle to fight them bc there's so many. Every other room, bam, you're stopped. The torture room glow-ball grabbing thing was the biggest hell i've ever encountered it can fuck right off.

Oddly enough I loved Lollipop Chainsaw despite it also being pretty clunky, bevause I really do love that awkward old playstation feeling that brings me back to the ps1/2 days. I can look past stuff like that if the game itself has more fun than frustration. But yeah for some reason 4 has just been boring/frustrating me more often than the fun boss fights/slight excitement when i learn a new move. Part of that migjt be the long cutscenes where you don't get to do anything and he does all the cool moves and kinda takes you out of it. I hate qtes but...a little something to interact with would be nice.

Also are all the games like 4 in that you can save mid-mission, but it doesn't actually matter bc if you have to quit then you'll have to start at the beginning when u pick it up again anyways? There's zero checkpoints which sucks when you've been trudging in circles for 30 minutes and want to take a break.

I dunno what I'm asking really, this kinda turned into more petty whining than actual discussion but. I guess basically: should I stick it out with 4 since it's the newest and I already started it, or shelve it for a while and start with 1 like i'm supposed to (so that i don't get even more frustrated each time at how old they are by playing in reverse)? Or go with 3 instead since a lot of ppl seem to love that one?

#bear txt #not omo #please advise me #i know my main problem is i need to stop comparing them with bayo but #outside of that what do i do?#i feel like i would enjoy these if i could get past some of the awkward features

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snapshots-of-the-young-egotist · 8 years

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minute 13 -- ---------------------------- Notes to myself for future vids/daily docs. But I doubt I shall leave them here on this platform. Steem-it maybe.. As I've said before, I am strong. Yet at minute 13 the overwhelming fate of truly interacting, that true interaction-- will play out as well as my inner-action does. Inner action-going within is all to important. So this is imperative for proof. I must show and therefore will. I have chosen to do this in case anyone who has seen similar videos can understand that this is something to make a case of. This is something that should be a focal point of many discussions pertaining to the elite, who the elite is, how they operate ect. When you hear stuff and read stuff about Monks fighting in other dimensions or anything similar, exactly what is being fought? Who are they fighting? As beautiful as Earth appears, who's the real artist of this canvas? Why does the light from Sirius shine brighter than even than the light of Venus? When you wake up in a world where you are required to make transactions from anything outside of a pen and paper. We are living during a time when cable wires no longer suffice, but there is still the a world-wide impairment that is much more important than any new app, or technological advancement. It is unfair of every single government, both foreign and domestic, and that doesn't change depending on what country you are in. When you wake up to an America where one of richest men in all of america's entire history becomes the presidential candidate and then everything he does four a 4year period is paid for from money of the citizens. The man who has chosen to prey on the ignorance of people who perpetuate it with combined efforts of innocence and intent. To build a wall and forget about tunnels. Wake up! Nobody of either side of the aisle stopped it from occurring, to the the point that it did occur. . To the point that certain people from different states begin to release similar statments from the same republican party, and also a few from the democratic party who would have liked to have run, but didn't. These people who were educated into their positions, then elected into their positions realized that they were just not as publicily known. So that lack of faith in themselves, and the faith that others would rather vote in another direction, decided for them that they could not win. The statements along the lines of, "God told me to run for President." When you look around and see what is evident, you will clearly see that it is all a consequence of the misuse of power. The entire point of money and wealth heralds generations from mixed social classes into an artificial future where intelligence is becoming more and more diluted. There is so much overthinking and that is disempowering when it divides action from being permitted. It's not like these improvements that should have already been improved can't be done. That idea is wrong, because the improvements can be met. Whether there are sanctions and treaties in the way of certain relations between foreign entities should matter only After the global epidemic of poverty and disease have been erradicated. It is difficult in these days to talk like this, and feel like this and have a deep resonating desire to just do nothing but talk about this. It is really difficult to bear. In the same way people will say that what I talk about and what I give my attention to is just conspiracy, I also feel that burden. It doesn't matter if it comes from friends family or strangers, to hear that is still like a burden on me. There are some who shoot me down and say, "wake up. Make money. Buy a very nice car with your money. Get into a relationship, you're beautiful, don't waste your youth on this." As endearing as that can appear, I am astute to my desires. As walt whitman put it, "Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes." My future is bigger than the my own past and the past of my own family combined. I am in touch with reality, and I am in touch with my inner world. I am following a process that will enable me the password neccessary to unlock what's safely hidden from view now. Those same people I can love all day, but the truest form of love overshadows shallow emotions. I have noticed that people like to throw around whatever knowledge they can on the subjects which are archaic, but when it shows up in their life, it is too much and the subject is changed. Or there is laugher when the tone should be more serious. Or when offended, the tone is serious when it should be much softer. This is the yin and yang though. The masculine and the feminine and neither are completely isolated to a particular gender. We are already seeing gender roles changing very quickly. This week I'm going to post a few things and it is going to be about love,war, and power. They are all intertwined. Yet, there is always power in love. Such powerful love can fight off that which is threatening to love. •Greed is threatening to love. •Money is a threat to love. •Apathy is a threat to love. •Contentment is a threat to love. •Lack of Self discipline is a threat to love. •Depression is a threat to love. •Low self-esteem is a threat to love. •Mediocrity is a threat to love. _________________________ That all is issued world-wide. Doesn't matter if you speak Arabic, German, Russian, Dutch, Italian, French, Finnish--- It makes no difference what language because feelings are the underlying tone. Feelings are the most important identifiers which are proof that we are all here to help each other. Help each other in your world, your inner circle. Support. Support your family members. Support your friends. Support your co-workers. Support your own inner-world and whoever you have to see in that inner world is of importance. If you really are smarter than "the idiot" you work with, then prove it. Prove it by being helpful if you can, or by showing up and offering your support any way you can. Or by starting your own business. Nobody is perfect, but if your own mental health has fallen to the way-side, life can seem to be stagnant. Mental Health is imperative. I have felt like such a fool in the past, to share what Spirit has been sharing with me. Not necessarily because I felt like I was a fool--no those moments were fleeting bouts of Utter Mediumship. Meaning, deeply deeply I was feeling and recieving the thoughts of those who were tuned into my lines of transmission. If someone or some people brought my name up in a conversation I was absent during, that got back to me. Just as it gets back to every individual. Energy circulates. It doesn't just leave someones mouth and try to find a wall to stop at. It doesn't work like that. It does, however work in a way that it continues to travel. It travels and when it's picked up, it gets mixed with other energy. Then it leaves and goes off and changes again. Eventually, what you send out is brought back to you and vice-versa. That can be dangerous though, because sometimes what is sent out is so out of proportion from what is brought in. Do not be fooled though. Certainly, that which was released, shall come back inside. It might take no time at all. Or it might take a week, or a month, or several years, or a decade, but it is going to come back to where it came from. I just acknowledge that nobody is perfect, nor can anyone be on this earth. **Nobody has the exact same agenda either. Even if two artists are in a relationship for example, are they going to do all the exact same projects? Of course not. We all seek to maintain a certain degree of change, that operates in tandem with our true selves. So, afterall The times I was lowering my vibrations to adjust to those around me, It's like my spirit guides and Angels were all synchronistically saying, "stop it! Stop reducing yourself into fragments! It should not be done!" They were right, and I acknowledge that. I acknowledge that I wasted so much time smoking and toking and the occassional drink. Yet, how insulting to an inherited gift? So much so, that it couldn't be continued. This project is a basis for future generations. Anything ever rejected or sideswept, has come back on me tenfold-- so at the very least the thing Of importance would and could not be forgotten. The last time I spent so much time on myself, doubling every effort, was years ago. Before the heaviness of the truth broke through my heart like a dagger-turning that chakra wheel--the Spoken-filled and so opened. And for the longest time, I was using my head letting my heart be the only guide I'd need. However too much is to obstruct and that is not fair to this body. It is not fair to be obtusely open. Everything about trusting the process of completely becoming a better version is the only diversion now. The truth is found out, but taken in so deep. To really look and map out alignments. That is a proper adjustment. I can only go so far if My chakras are out of balance. I can only go so far, if I continue to stop and forgive what I know is violence. So that is through and harsh words can come through. In no time at all, when every chakra is in working order, not working to much, being too open. Nor working too little, and thus closed. No. Everything has changed. I like this word typing thing because I can write this and it looks so easy when it's written. But it was anything but easy. It's anything but easy to demand respect when it is supposed to already be there. The perpetual ignorance I am done with giving allowances to those who don't even PHYSICALLY TRY. Therefore, I am done done allowing it to come Physically into my life. Psychic attacks they are one thing and personal attacks are another. Mental Health is The Basis. The Basis: Rather than bases. That's where the whole conspiracy shall begin to be dissected, because the basis is the premise for all of this dis-entanglement. Where I am from, this is ghastly. So there is myself, and a few others who are hidden from view. I can hold a lot of light and still, wouldn't mind an extra prayer or two. This kind of work takes up so much energy. It was important to break this down and repeatedly go through it. Repeating experiences that are "the same thing." Clairvoyance Seems so sweet and everything would be roses and butterflies-- no. It's is literally painful, and if I am either too open, it is to give freely, too many allowances for Particular people. So then, it is imperative that I am clean and eat clean and sleep clean. So that my own matrix field is recalibrated accordingly. So that my aura can extend and be as bright as it needs to. So that I can be on several planes at once, just by sitting in a room. So that is always an adjustment. This is real and I make no more apologies because this was the biggest part of my earth mission. I must be tuned in to recieve the transmissions. The opposite of fear is love, ehich is why I was lucky enough to incarnate with my Twin-Flame. It is quite unusual, and the relationship alone, without a meeting is already so powerful. The union is confusing and only after the recognition and meeting can we really get down to business. Yet, to hold such a vison is too damaging if it stops one or the other for living. As reclusive as I have become, I have been slowly stopping that, because that experience is not just mine alone, and that is the impact. This celestial obligation, to act so that we can interact. Oy vey, is the most I can say for now.

#Max spiers #bases project #Mk ultra #targeted individuals #light #auric body #layers

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