#but the way they treat an ordinary roach.. that could differ

[yuseirra]

I saw a cockroach yesterday... I'm using that experience as an insp o<-< that's what you call "Sublimation", right..

[sgtyaraya]

Call of Duty OC

Name: Trudy Saidler

Nikename: Jay

Date of birth: June 01, 1992

Age: 24 (at the time of the events in 2016)

Place of birth: Liberec, Czech Republic🇨🇿

Citizenship: Czech🇨🇿

Nationality: English 🇬🇧

Rank: Sergeant

Specialty: Infantryman

Unit: TF - 141

Family/Relationships

Mother: Adele Saidler (Hofmann) 🇬🇧

Father: Philip Saidler 🇬🇧

Brother: Evan Saidler🇬🇧 ✝️

Love Interest: Gary "Roach" Sanderson🇬🇧💕

Reference/appearance

Trudy on the day she arrived at Credenhill

Parameters

Hair: brown with light strands

Eyes: grey

Pigmentation on the body: freckles

Tattoo: on the left arm

Scars: scratches on the right and left arm, a bullet wound in the left shoulder, suture marks on the right side at the rib level, bullet wounds in the abdomen, cartilage injury of the right ear

Height: 170 cm

Weight: 60 kg

Body type: normal

Equipment

Armored vest: warrior "plates" assault systems

M4A1 assault rifle with a grenade launcher

M14 EBR sniper rifle with silencer for long-range elimination and, if necessary, to cover the group

Pistols: M9 and USP.45

Cold steel: Alpha S D2 knife Tactical Knife and Custom Steel Machete D2 Machete Etsy Knife

Personality

Trudy is a young girl with sociability and good nature. Her attitude towards people depends on how they treat her: if they show a positive attitude towards her, she is a little stubborn. Even so, Trudy is not so trusting, so she does not immediately open up to the interlocutor. Trudy sometimes experiences moments that can cause irritation. And in such cases, she can flare up, allowing her emotions to come out. However, she tries to control her emotions so as not to show them to other people. But Trudy's weakest side is her worries. Everything that she experiences inside herself, she tries to hide from others.

Fears

🔥Pyrophobia🔥is a phobia consisting in a constant, irrational, obsessive, panic fear of fire, fires; an obsessive fear of burning alive, getting burned, or losing property as a result of a fire. (in one of the missions, she almost burned herself in the room in which she was locked, losing consciousness)

Biography

Trudy's parents live in the Czech Republic for most of their lives, they have successfully established their lives in another country, and we can say they have lived in it for most of their lives, and did not want to return to England. Adele Saidler (Hofmann) has opened her own atelier in Liberec, where they now live. The woman is engaged in custom tailoring, previously she was specialized in sewing military uniforms. Philip Saidler is a former infantryman, retired for health reasons, retired, but he helps his wife in the atelier, delivering sewing materials. He also earns a living on the outskirts of the city, but there is no information about his place of work. Before Trudy, they had a son, Evan Saidler [date of birth unknown, died as a teenager, cause of death unknown]. The couple suffered a hard loss, and were very worried about their daughter, who knows about her late brother.

Trudy's childhood, like that of ordinary children, was no different from them. She also had her own hobbies, which her parents reacted positively to, and supported their daughter in every possible way, most importantly. The girl was actively engaged in dancing from the age of 12, from which she developed flexibility, there were even performances on behalf of the school. She also loved to help her mother in the atelier, more often looked after the counter, and thus engaged in needlework, she could also sew some clothes with jewelry. In addition to dancing, Trudy also had hobbies, which she does not mention.

During her student years, Trudy met a girl who was 1 year younger than her, Linda Kovac (Czech). She was always an inconspicuous gray mouse, but Trudy became friends with her on the first day they met, and spent more and more time together. Thanks to her, Linda began to gain self-confidence and even changed her style in order not to fall into the gray mass and stand out somehow. Saidler never sought to attract attention, preferring to wear comfortable and not too bright clothes, and studied like all ordinary students. She needed Czech to learn, so even at preschool age she learned this language, English is considered the main one.

There have been mistakes in Trudy's life, one of them has undermined people's trust. As a student, a guy was in love with her, and he sought her attention in every possible way. The student's infatuation, yes, did not last long. This guy dated her for a joke, enjoyed her trust. After receiving her education, Trudy left Liberec and went to England. After living there for some time, she went to Credenhill, where the selection for group 141 was held. During the trip, Trudy heard other recruits talking about this group, and who is in it, quite big names sounded from the mouths of the guys, which made her interested. Arriving at their base, Trudy did not expect to see the members of the 141 group live. At the time, Captain McTavish was in charge of the selection, and he took up her training in order to make Saidler an experienced fighter. As a rookie, she was sent for additional training to improve her skills and adapt to work in group 141. During her stay at the base, Trudy met Roach, a young sergeant whom she saw on the day of her arrival. At first, things didn't go very well due to distrust, so we gradually communicated. Jay showed a special interest in Roach as a person and wanted to get to know him better, and thus she awakened trust in him. Roach also showed interest in the girl and communicated with her even from a distance. Trudy was very afraid of attachment to people, and hid her sympathy until the last moment, Roach had the same feelings for her. They gradually showed warm feelings for each other.

Participation

Jay began his service under the command of Captain McTavish, took his first part in the Hunting mission, where the goal was to catch Alejandro Rojas, worked in a group with Roach. In the future, she participated in assaults at certain points, provided cover, engaged in inconspicuous liquidation

The history of the creation of the OC

In 2011, I played with COD Modern warfare 2 for the first time. This game has left vivid moments in my memory, from joyful to sad, my favorite mission is "Rock Climber". At that moment, the first character appeared in my head. Since I couldn't draw at the age of 9, I was building a plot in my head. There is an important point, this is the date when I started playing and when I came up with Trudy. This is June 1, 2011, and this date is also Trudy's date of birth.

In her first version, there was no first or last name, I just called her "Emersan", this call sign is taken from another game that I also actively played. As for her appearance, Trudy looked different, not like she does now. In 2018, I visually sketched her portrait, hoping for my memory. Based on this, I decided to change her appearance, and also attached my old works. As time went on, I always wanted to add something, it seemed to me that Trudy was too simple. Although yes, she really was like that. Then, during the redrawing, I already gave her a name. Her name was Trudy "Emersan" Sombra. She later became Jay, the new surname is Saidler. Trudy's redesigns didn't last long, so I changed it again by drawing new references. You can see that she has hardly changed since 2019, there are small changes on her face – freckles and hair color have become darker. Next comes the tattoo. It was a difficult choice, I came up with the first tattoo myself, then I made another, more complex one. The final version was drawn in 2023, and received a reference

Trudy in 2011 to 2022

[aenwoedbeannaa]

Talking to Horses | Geralt x Reader

Summary: You work at a small inn in a middle of nowhere village in Novigrad. Your job consists mostly of serving travelers – the only people that come to this god-forsaken place – but you manage to find a way to spend most of your time in the stables. One night, while you’re holed up there talking to your horse, a new stranger arrives; but you recognize him from the traveling bard, Jaskier’s, songs immediately – the famous Witcher, Geralt of Rivia.

Word Count: 2,533

Warnings: None; this is literally just the fluffiest fluff.

Notes: I promise I’ll get back to my series soon; but it’s been a busy week and I’m sad and right now I just want to write Geralt fluff lol.

* * *

It is growing late, and you are still in the barn, as usual. You don’t mind, though. You much prefer it here than in the stuffy inn. No matter how rude the customer, their horses were always nice enough. You keep your own horse here, as well – a mare named Immi. She is a sweet little thing, though she's quite skittish and will do almost nothing without getting a treat first, but you don’t mind much. It is rare that you have the opportunity to travel, and the roads around your little village are safe enough.

You are surprised when Immi’s ears prick up slightly, the way that they do when a visitor approaches the stables. Of course, travelers came in at all hours of the day, but it wasn’t too often when one showed up extremely late at night. Relatively unbothered, you continue brushing her speckled fur, waiting for the loud crunch of the stablemaster’s boots on the ground. Honestly, no one could possibly walk as loudly as that man.

So, you are surprised when you hear the sound of approaching hooves and soft, barely perceptible footsteps. Curious, you peek your head out from the stall to see a white-haired stranger leading a horse gently by the reins. You’ve never seen him here before – but again, that is not unusual. Most people who pass through here once don’t have much reason to pass through again. It is a painfully boring town. What makes this one stand out, however, are the two swords slung across his back.

However, between the white hair and the two swords, the mysterious stranger suddenly becomes far less mysterious – at least as far as his identity goes. The chances of someone matching his exact description seem relatively unlikely. Even from a distance, you can tell that he is huge, all muscle. Hard to find any ordinary human who looks like that; doubly as hard to find any ordinary human who looks like that and happens to have long white hair and two swords on his back. So, you are pretty positive you are correct.

As he draws closer, you lean back on the open door to Immi’s stall, arms crossed across your chest and head cocked slightly to one side.

“You’re Geralt of Rivia.” You say it as a statement, not a question. You are very rarely wrong, and unafraid to embrace that. Mamma used to scold you for being brash, and you’d been called arrogant and brazen by a few of the passing travelers – but it doesn't bother you much.

“And you better not start singing that damn song.”

You smirk, kicking open the free stall across from Immi’s with a scuffed leather boot, “No ‘hello’?” you ask, shaking your head. “Not even a nice ‘and you are?”

The Witcher doesn’t seem particularly amused, but he takes the bait anyway.

“Hello,” he says, exaggerating and speaking the words exactly how you’d spoken them, “And you are?” Mrs. Leigh, who owns the inn, constantly tells you that you shouldn’t pester the guests, but there is a slight tug at the corner of the Witcher’s lips that tells you he isn’t particularly irritated. And anyway, you don’t listen to much of what Mrs. Leigh says or you’d die of boredom.

“Y/N,” you say before adding sarcastically, “Of Novigrad.”

“Pleasure,” he says absentmindedly as he begins getting his horse settled.

You could easily get back to your work, but in such a boring village, you’ve got to take advantage of any entertainment while you can, so you lean against the door, peering at his horse, which you can tell is clearly taken very good care of.

“What’s your horse’s name?”

“Roach.”

“Interesting name for a horse,” you say, watching him remove the saddle.

Immi, likely feeling betrayed because you have turned your attention from the mare for more than a minute, whinnies and lightly stomps one hoof.

“Immi!” you scold her in the gentle way you always do, turning and walking back to her stall.

You are slightly surprised to hear the Witcher speak again, “Is she yours?”

You nod, pulling an apple from your back, which you left hanging on a nail on the door. At seeing it, Immi huffs and looks at you with wide, begging eyes.

“She is,” you say, rather proudly. It is not a wealthy village, and most young women working as barmaids and stable hands cannot afford horses of their own. Of course, you didn’t actually buy her – one of the Leigh’s mares had a baby, four years ago now. It was the year your mother died of plague when it hit the village, and you’d already been working for Mrs. Leigh for three years by then and they knew your affinity for working in the stables. They told you she was yours, and suddenly life seemed a little less dull.

You hold the apple up to her snout, and she quickly devours the whole thing.

“You always feed her human food?” The Witcher’s voice is closer now; you turn to see that he’s standing outside the stall he’s set Roach up in. You get the sense that he’s appraising you, his yellow eyes settled on yours, one eyebrow raised as Immi chomps loudly behind you, finishing the treat.

You cross your arms, fully facing him now, staring right back. “Yes, I do,” you say, “And before you ask, of course I talk to her.”

At that, the Witcher laughs, but he doesn’t seem to be mocking you. You narrow your eyes slightly, questioning.

“I talk to my horse, too,” he admits. “Roach is great to talk to, because he doesn’t talk back.”

You grin, face flushing slightly at the warm gleam in the Witcher’s yellow eyes. “Exactly. No unwanted advice, no ordering me around, no demanding a third cup of ale when she’s already piss drunk.”

“So, you work in the inn, too?”

You nod in response, “Yep. Unfortunately, we don’t get enough travelers through here to make much money as a stable hand. We make our money the way every other inn does; selling overpriced ale to travelers who don’t have any other options.”

“It's even worse in the cities,” the Witcher responds. “Plenty of options, but all overpriced.”

“Hm,” you shrug, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been to one of the big cities. But humans are the same everywhere, I guess.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, looking somewhat lost in thought.

“Still,” you muse as you grab your bag and shut the door to Immi’s stall, “I’d like to see them.”

You sigh, looking past the Witcher and out into the field outside, the starlit road beyond it. “The cities, I mean. Just... Seems a waste, to spend a whole life here.” Now you’re just rambling – another thing Mamma used to tell you not to do, especially with strangers – but you can’t help it. “Must be fun, to be a Witcher; you’ve probably seen all sorts of places.”

The Witcher gives you a wry smile, “And all sorts of monsters.”

“Eh,” you respond quickly, following him out of the stables and towards the inn, “You don’t have to travel to see monsters.” He stops walking for a moment and cocks his head in thought, looking down at you.

“You’re right again,” he says.

“You should meet Mr. Allen,” you say with your voice lowered, “He’s the mayor and he’s hear most every night, drinking Mrs. Leigh out of house and home, yelling at everyone, and—well, never mind—but his poor wife, though.” You shudder, thinking about his roaming eyes and careless hands, but you snap out of it quickly enough.

“Ah, suppose it is fitting. Shit mayor for a shit town.”

Once you reach the entrance, you push open the door, the Witcher following behind you. You turn to him, whispering under your breath, “Guy in the back corner.” He raises his eyebrows and goes, to your surprise, to sit at the table right in front of Mr. Allen’s. Not a choice that you would have advised, but likely to be an entertaining one.

“Please tell me you were not harassing that man out in the stables,” Mrs. Leigh says as you head behind the counter, filling up a few earthenware tankards to drop at the tables that your boss has wasted no time pointing to.

“Me?” you ask, with fake innocence.

“Y/N, honestly. We need the business.”

Grabbing as may tankards as possible – an impressive five – you glance back at your boss and roll your eyes. “Please,” you say with a smirk, “I’m half the reason these guys buy as much alcohol as they do.” A little flirting does wonders, and gods know Mrs. Leigh isn’t going to do it.

You drop off three tankards at one table; a thankfully quiet one. There are two women, one of whom you can tell from her painfully beautiful features must be half-elf. There’s one man with them, lanky and quiet. Probably the human’s brother, if you had to guess.

The other two mugs of ale were, of course, for Mayor Allen. He must have just arrived, then.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says with a hideous smile as you set them down. You just mumble some form of no problem as you walk off. He doesn’t pay, so there’s no point in flirting with him. Besides, the Witcher’s table is next, and you cannot deny that you are dying to talk to him.

Putting on your usual flirty smile, you head over to his table, leaning on the old wood. For some reason, though, the flirtatious nature that usually comes easy to you feels a little bit different – like you actually care what this stranger thinks about you. You decide to put it down to the fact that he is famous, and famous people rarely pass through the village.

“Can I get you anything?” you ask, smile faltering slightly, but only for a moment.

The Witcher looks at you, yellow eyes locking on yours. “Two mugs of ale, please,” his lips curve into a smirk, “And your company.” You quirk an eyebrow, feeling your cheeks redden once again.

Before you have to disappoint him – and mainly yourself – by telling him that you can’t just sit down at work, he places a handful of gold pieces on the table. Definitely enough to cover the two beers, and as much as you’d bring in for the night.

“Coming right up,” you say, throwing him a glance over your shoulder as you carry the coins over to the counter.

“You’re welcome,” you say, admittedly rather arrogantly as you set the coins down on the counter next to Mrs. Leigh. She watches you with somewhat horrified eyes as you round the counter to fill up to mugs of ale.

“This is not a brothel,” she says pointedly, glancing from you and across the room at the white-haired Witcher.

“And I’d charge more for a night than that,” you retort, glancing down at the coins still on the table.

Mrs. Leigh does not respond as you grab the two mugs and head back to the Witcher’s table.

“Your ale,” you say, sliding it over to him, “And my excellent company,” you add with an impish grin, sitting down across from him. “Though, to be honest, you seem more like the Sit and Drink Alone type,” you say, studying him.  

“You aren’t wrong there,” he says, but his yellow eyes hint that he very much does not want to sit and drink alone tonight. Well, that and the fact that he asked you to sit with him.

“Then why ask me to disturb your blessed silence?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Because,” he says, pausing to take a draught of ale, “I find you interesting.”

You nearly choke on your ale when you laugh. Out of all of the interesting creatures and people the Witcher meets, you cannot fathom why he would find you in particular interesting.

“Oh, come on,” he said, shaking his head. “You walk around like you own this place. Don’t pretend to be the shy type.”

You blush again, looking down at your cup and taking a swig before you look back up at him. Thankfully, you can blame the flush on your cheeks on the ale. “Oh, come on,” you quip back, “You’ve been in plenty of inns, I’m sure. It’s all part of business.”

Geralt eyes you curiously and shrugs. Then silence settles over the two of you, somehow ringing louder in your ears than the rowdy crowd of the crowded pub.

Finally, he speaks.

“Actually, I have a proposition.”

Your head shoots up, eyes wide as you stare at him. Maybe the gold was for what Mrs. Leigh insinuated. And while the Witcher was, without a doubt, the most attractive man you’d ever seen, Mrs. Leigh was right – this was not a brothel, and you were not… Well, that was not your profession.

“Don’t worry, it’s not about that.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, and slight disappointment, but now you are incredibly curious. What could this Witcher want from you?

“I’m not travelling far,” he explains, “And I have a high suspicion that the haunting I am investigating has little to do with dangerous spirits and everything to do with humans being humans.”

Your mouth falls open, hardly able to believe what you are hearing, and unable to form any words.

“You said you wanted to see some of the world, and I take it you can ride,” he says.

“I—well, yes, I do want to… But, I mean, I have to wor—”

“It’s a decent contract. You can half of it.”

“I mean,” you begin, “I… I couldn’t take the coin!”

“You’re not taking it, you’re doing a job,” the Witcher points out. “I can’t watch Roach all the time.”

You consider his words for a few moments before your face breaks out into a wide smile.

* * *

You are bursting with excitement as you head out of your back room, pack full of your most precious personal items, of which there are relatively few. As promised, Geralt is already out in the stable, saddling Roach.

“Good morning,” he says, that same deep, gravely voice you’d grown familiar with last night as the two of you stayed up talking until far too late.

“Good morning!” you greet him, heading over to saddle Immi, despite her somewhat confused whinnies. You rarely rode out this early. But she didn’t seem to mind all that much, as you handed her another apple from your pack.

“Hm,” Geralt says, eying you, “Cheery.”

“Not a morning person?” you ask him.

“No particular feelings about any time of day,” he says with a shrug.

You lead Immi out of the stables behind Geralt and Roach, still somewhat mystified by the man.

“Ah yes,” you say after a moment, “I hear you Witchers don’t have emotions.”

At those words, Geralt turns around to face you, only a few inches between you. “Now there, dear Y/N, you are wrong.”

The look on his face has your stomach filled with butterflies as the two of you ride off side-by-side into the early morning light.

***

Taglist: @divaroze​ @fairytale07​ @geeksareunique​ @jesseswartzwelder​ @unnamedmaincharacter​ @lazilyscentedwerewolf​ @evyiione​ @valkyriepuff​

[curlymantis]

aaaa pls tell me stuff abt your ocs they're all so cool!! 🥺💚

Omg I finally finished answering this!!!!! 👀👀

Farcry 5: Zoë Seed!!

Omg that’s me 😏 she was an entomologist checking out the cool insects of Hope county and unfortunately for her she doesn’t believe in private property when it comes to discovering nature. One day chosen find her trespassing on John seeds property. They think she’s a spy for the resistance as she has a camera, binoculars etc. They take her to the main church (conveniently was a Sunday) once service is over shes handed over to the father and himself and John go through her camera. They only find insect pictures and omg wow she’s not a spy. She’s indoctrinated into the cult and ends up eventually becoming John’s right hand of god 😌🙏 sinners who happen to be an extra annoyance go to her where she makes them confess in whatever way possible. Or they die in the process, whoops 💅🏻 She’s polyamorous with all of the seed siblings including Faith cos like come on now let’s be real they all crave and need loving. However she’s married to John Seed because that baby boy is everything 😤❤️ She also likes to do cult posters and help write songs and sing them cos it’s fun as hell. She is closest with John and Faith Seed specifically out of the 4 Seeds. Other cultists are scared of her, or is it respect? Hmm who knows 😌 She also tortures sinners for fun and chases them around the forest making them as shit scared as possible. Oops 😏

The Magnus Archives: is my oc who is an Avatar of the eye and Rayn Porter is my oc who a avatar of the corruption. They both have the same last name as they are both the same person just if they had gone down different entity routes in their life. I’ll talk about Rose first! (I also have an avatar of the flesh and the vast but I haven’t worked on them yet or got them ‘fully fleshed out’ 😏

Rose Porter: avatar of the Eye, marked by the stranger, the spiral and the vast.

From an early age Rose always felt the need to watch people, to know, to understand. As she got older these feelings only became stronger and she begins to stalk people, not because she finds that person special for any particular reason they just happened to look to long at her and she saw them doing so. That just sets something off In her so now they must be followed, acknowledged, understood and scrutinised (me self projecting right into my ocs 😌). She found the Magnus institute one day as she started stalking Rosie. when she had seen the woman walking into a large glorious building she knew something was off, like the itching feeling you get, the feeling in your gut, the sensation of something important. She did not know what had over come her to walk in the building so quickly as that would ruin her chances of learning further about this person who dared make her feel so uncomfortable. But there she was. She was hired immediately of course as a librarian, then moving on the be an archival assistant, shocking to her. But obviously not to Elias Bouchard who knew just how useful her alignment to his almighty beholder. To say she had a crush on him would be an understatement. She can’t explain it. Some would call infatuation, some would call it chemistry, but smart ones say it’s because they are both devotees to the eye and she is in so much deeper than she has ever anticipated or even realises 👀

Rayn Porter: avatar of the corruption, marked by the flesh, the lonely and the stranger.

Rayn despises people (same queen 🙄) they put animals on a higher level of respect than humans. The corruption took ahold of them as a young child, they would always follow and play with cockroaches as a child. However their mother was to say the least an unempathetic, transphobic and cruel woman to say the least. Rayn was raised in a household full of scrutiny, hate and fear. Because of this had very little friends as the only social interaction they knew was their bitch ass mother they turned to the ‘pests’ of their home. Whether these were the slugs and snails in the basement of their home, or they were the cockroaches, house centipedes and rats that dwelled in their attic. They loved and appreciated them all, but their was still something deeper to it. A deep rot had started to form in Rayn and they hated their mother and family. They hated them for how they had cast them aside for not being female, they hated them for all the mistreatment they had faced as a child. The rot started small, a odd old smell that started to lurk around Rayn. Eventually others would notice the smell but would shrug it off as the smell would soon be covered by the smell of Rayns chain smoking. Then one day Rayn was staring in mirror poking at their face and squeezing. They found a sore on her face and squeezed it, pus comes out but something moves underneath. They squeeze harder and something wriggles forth, it’s a very small, juvenile cockroach, streaked slightly in something slimey. As you can imagine that fucked them up a bit, but they learnt to embrace it. Learnt to love that crawling away just underneath their skin are thousands of little legs connected to cockroach’s of many sizes. Sometimes if not managed roaches will find themselves sneaking out of nostrils, mouth and ears. Sometimes even out from behind her eyes. One way they feed the corruption is they set forth the filth at a selected location. All it takes is for them to place a cockroach down in a building and within a week there will be a infestation so strong causing the people in said building to be taken down with it. The Cockroaches will feed on those that they can over power and The Corruption always needs feeding... (Also just want to add cockroaches themselves aren’t actually dirty, they’re actually obsessive cleaners. the locations they live in are dirty)

Telltale Batman- Roz Traegers:

first encounter with John Doe (the eventually to be known Joker) was at the bar he frequented. They had never once seen him drink a drop of alcohol. He would order beer constantly for his alcoholic sure but never consume it himself. Aside from his alabaster white skin nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary to them. Well except the fact he liked to stare, a lot. You would constantly worry it’s because he was just judging you based on your appearance (a lot of people do) however John just likes to stare at people and found you interesting for some reason (cliches I know, but me and John Doe are basically the same person and I like to think he’d think I’m interesting). Roz has a great dislike towards the people John works with, they don’t appreciate how badly they treat him. Especially Harley. John is so obsessed with Harley and she treats him like absolute shit. Roz had a plan to get Harley arrested, however John found out and threatened to never speak to Roz again. Roz has a soft spot for Mr Freeze specifically from the gang also.

Vampyr: Rose Pine

works as an assistant to Camellia at the florist. Rose isn’t a very chatty person and has had quite a traumatic up bringing. Her mother, sister and father are all unfortunately deceased. Her father killed her mother, then sister, then Rose, then turned the knife on himself. Rose survived her injuries (hence the scar on her throat) and was put out into the adoption system. Roses father believed he had been doing his family a service by taking their lives before they could be claimed by Ekons. Roses father had been a vampire believer long before they had even breeched the city. Rose always waves hello to Jonathan Reid when she sees him galavanting around. He always waves back and occasionally they will exchange a conversation. One evening they exchange more than just brief chit chat when Jonathan is required to save her from a group of feral Skals. Rose is very badly injured from her encounter and Jonathan ends up having to change the sweet little florist he sees most evenings into a Ekon. Rose is also good friends with Charlotte Ashbury and Charlottes mother Elisabeth. I haven’t played Vampyr in a wee while, I want to get back into it soon so plan on adding more to her story.

Outlast: Rosie Porter

Rosie worked as a live in psychiatrist for those at mount massive asylum. She lives on the premises that way patient can be attended to at any time. Her experiences throughout life gives her empathy for those that are locked up, that the other guards and majority of other staff just don’t have. Rosie has always been able to empathise with those who would be considered ‘evil’ whether she empathised out of her own sick fascination or because of her heart hurting too much is another question. Rosies favourite patients are Eddie Gluskin and Chris Walker. She was hired after Jeremy Blaire forcibly admitted Chris Walker. Rosie is enamoured with Eddie and he knows it. Knows he has his little psychologist wrapped around his finger. However Eddie would be a hypocrite if he said he also wasn’t wrapped around her finger. Rosie is forcibly committed to the asylum by Jeremy Blaire they start Project Walrider on the patients. Rosie was against it and threatened to blow the whistle on the whole thing (dumb idea) and Jeremy uses her as the first female Walrider test subject. Rosie has engaged in an affair with her boss Jeremy Blaire when she first started working there. Due to their past ‘hands on’ relationship, Rosie is allowed more time with her patients and allowed to be alone with her patients. This has allowed for her to further her work with her patients, as they’re quite open when the know they aren’t being openly judged by the security staff.

Hannibal: Jessi Trees

is a forensic entomologist who works alongside Beverly, Jimmy and Brian analysing dead people n shit. Jessi first met Will Graham on the scene of a crime when they had both been called out. It was the mushroom killer from memory as the soil was packed with invertebrates filled with evidence. Will has just finished doing his whole ‘this is my design’ when Jessi walks up to him and stands quietly beside him, where they say: “These fuckers are filled with worms and I don’t know shit about worms” Will Graham turns and looks at them like what the fuck? Those are dead people. Jessi merely shrugs, smirks and walks off. Jessi can be described by a lot of people as ‘a cold person’ or ‘indifferent’ but passionate. They dehumanise the corpses they’re working with at that’s the only way they can get justice for them. If they get too caught up in all the sadness of it, they can’t move forward from it. Jessi has a crush on Will Graham and Beverly Katz. Jessi questions Will and Hannibals relationship quietly from the background but never really comments.

Bonus character!! Stardew Valley: Zoë

This bad ass came all the way from Zuzu city in need of a better and different life. They inherit their grandfathers old farm and get it up and running. The town is filled with wonderful, amazing people. But of course Zoë has to want to become close friends with the person who hates me everyone: Shane (they’re kindred spirits, Shane isn’t aware of this however because he seems to think he’s the only person who can suffer from substance abuse and sever depression haha.) Shane hates them of course until they keep harassing him and he reasilizes she’s a lot more screwed up than he was aware. Zoë is close friends with Shane (ends up marrying him one day), Linus (I would fucking die for him and anyone who’s cruel to him gets my foot in the butthole), Leah (they hang out frequently and like to paint in the forest together), Emily (I have a massive crush on Emily haha, she’s so similar to me it’s great), is also friends with Sam’s dad and Jodis husband Kent (Kent suffers from PTSD and I’ve developed a lot of my own techniques to help with my own PTSD so we help each other out. Also Jodi I’m stealing your husband, just kidding, unless). Zoë’s favourite animals on her farm are her blue chickens (raised by Shane) and her horse Aaron. Zoë’s favourite yearly event is the moonlight jellies festival!

[sabinehqs]

∿° la’s favorite singer / producer has made her appearance at the party. it’s insane how similar she looks to sofia carson. according to celebslam, sabine gutierrez-soto has been given a reputation of being obstreperous, but also candid. the twenty three year old has been living in the city of dreams for four years, i wonder how much longer they’ll last. ( sammie / 25 / est / she/her ).

💕 hi hello! my name is sammie, i’m 25 and i live in the EST timezone! i have a shopping addiction. i read a lot of young adult books (currently in the middle of a curse do dark and lonely by brigid kemmerer). i can’t go a day without listening to little mix & blackpink because they are my girls. i have two kitty cats (sirius and lupin) and a pitbull (nox). if you ever wanna see cute pictures hit me up i got so many of my babies. my discord is joe keery is ruining my life#7229and i’m always on so please shoot me a message! this is sabine.

basics!

faceclaim: sofia carson.

age: twenty three

sexuality: closeted lesbian.

home town: houston texas

favorite color: crimson.

favorite movie: cruel intentions.

favorite food: dark chocolate.

aesthetic: overflowing shot glasses. scabbed knees from falling down.  neon signs. empty champage bottles clinking against each other. fur coats. large sunglasses to hide tired hungover eyes. ashtrays full of burnt roaches. sleeping in just your panties. spotlights. a collection of expensive flasks. blackout curtains on every window. fresh pack of newport 100s. diamond encrusted microphones. sleeping until two pm. hampers full of short black dresses. blood red nails.  

celebrity crush: tessa thompson & rosario dawson

biography!

sabine was born in houston, texas to mateo and luciana gutierrez-soto on october 27th 1995. she is the four of four, three brothers and a sister who passed before sabine was born. after the death of her sister, sabine’s parents decided to come to the united states, hoping to make a better lives for them and their children.

family members who had already come to the united states helped them. sabibe was born just a few months later, the only family member that was born a u.s. citizen. her mother and father found jobs as a maid and construction worker, respectively.

they lived in a poor neighborhood in houston, with many of her neighbors being illegal immigrants like sabine’s family. the people in her community were very close, and sabine being one of the youngest was often treated like everyone’s little sister.

sabine was always putting on a show as a child, rather it was singing at the local talent show (which she always seemed to win) or performing in her elementary school drama production, she seemed to thrive in the spotlight.

but, her family was in poverty and she couldn’t afford singing lessons, so until she was older she got by singing at home. she never really thought anything would come from it.

sabine didn’t do so well in school. sure, she was a social butterfly when she was young. and she made friends easily. but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for sabine to be sent to the office because of excessive talking, and giving attitude. she had her fair share of letters sent home.

sabine was always very close with her family, especially her second oldest brother and her mother. her had always treated her like a princess, and she was her mothers little baby doll.

when sabine was thirteen years old, she came home from school to find the house empty. all their belongings were still there, and dinner was even on the stove. sabine’s neighbors found her on the porch utterly confused. they informed her that ICE had been by and her family had been deported. her whole family. gone.

sabine’s entire world crumbled around her, and she moved in with her aunt and uncle, as her legal guardians. they lived in a much better neighborhood which came with a much better public school for her to attend. she tried to keep her nose down, but her sarcastic and flippant ways just seemed to come to the surface.

sabine began performed more, and people were starting to really listen. she started a youtube channel where she would upload covers and turned out to be very very popular.

when she was a junior in high school, sabine started to get teased for never having a boyfriend. sabine ignored it, but always felt deep down something was different. she had always felt a certain… pull towards girls. and the feeling terrified her so she shoved it down.

she started partying a lot, almost always sipping on a flask. whether it was the pain of her family leaving her, or the butterflies she felt in her tummy when a pretty girl glanced in her direction… she used alcohol and weed as a coping mechanism.

directly after high school, sabine started auditioning for anything and everything. finally on her third try for american idol, she was put through to the live shows. she packed her bags and left, staying in a local hotel (payed for with the money her parents tried to save up for her college tuition). at the age of 20, sabine was crowned winner of american idol in 2017.

sabine’s life has been a whirlwind sense then. she lives in l.a. now and is currently recording her second album. her first album went platinum four months after being released. she is currently working as a producer, while working on her next album.

personality!

obstreperous. good god. okay so when she gets goin’ theres no stopping her. shes loud and wild and always has been. she’s a party girl if you ever did see one. she doesn’t like being told what to do, and if you tell her to calm down you’ll only make things worse.

candid. as honest as they come. she will not sugar coat things. she’s is frank and ‘real’ to a fault. sometimes it makes people keep their distances, but she likes it better that way anyways.

adamantine. oo, girl. she is unbreakable. she’s been through a lot of shit in her life, and it reflects in her. determined and hard working, she worked her ass off to get to where she is, and she isn’t afraid to let you know.

audacious. life of the party. if you make a friend of her, expect the unexpected. rather its crashing a wedding or buying out disney world so you can run the park, she’s always down.

irascible. if you piss her off - run. THATS ALL IM GONNA SAY.

connections!

best friend! male/female/nb 0/1. a girl needs her bestie. someone she can tell everything to. someone she knows will always have her back. she trusts them more than anything.

slightly inferior best friend! male/female/nb 0/1. shes really close with them, the only person she is closer too is her friend or die bestie. they mean a lot to her, but like the title suggests, they are slightly inferior.

childhood friend! male/female/nb 0/2. someone from her home town she was close too.

on again off again toxic relationship! female/nb 0/1. kind of self explanatory. they’re terrible together and its bad for both of them, but for some reason that flame still burns. even though its really painful.

rival! male/female/nb 0/1. someone that sabine thinks of as her rival. rather they be a musician or a fellow producer, they make her skin crawl.

good influence! male/female/nb. 0/2. someone that has a positive influencing on her.

the mom friend! female/male/n/b. 0/1. sabine gets herself in not so good situations, maybe she’s too drunk to take care of herself, or she needs a non judgemental shoulder to cry one. someone to get her out of the gutter every so often.

partner in crime! male/female/nb. 0/1. bring these two together and they’re gonna raise some hell.

sabine’s crush! female/nb 0/1. someone sabine has a crush on. this could be cute or kind of... weird? she doesn’t really know how to act around a crush. but its gotta be all cute. her being all blushy and shit.

i’m open to so many more!

[lulumania]

Pearls

Summary: OKAY SO THIS IS GONNA BE MY FIRST STORY ON THIS TUMBLR SO MY MIND IS FREAKING OUT! I HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT AND ALSO ITS ORIGINAL!! Word count: 6556 Pearls. When you first see pearls, what do you think of? Do you marvel at the silky color or think of a full moon in orbit? Innocent and pure are two words that come to the mind of a jeweler. For those who know the truth, innocent and pure never enter their minds when they stare at this powerful jewel. The words that should be going into your mind, are horrific and unsettling. It all makes sense in the end. It was June 3rd, 2001, and I, 19 year-old Samantha Baker, was vacationing in Saudi Arabia with some college friends. Sadly, we weren’t visiting to see the many sites the country had to offer, but instead just staying for a few days till we finally could go to the Red Sea. The Red Sea is located between Saudi Arabia and Sudan and is composed of saltwater. Since the Red Sea was mostly famous for it’s diving experience, I decided to put my marine knowledge to the task. I hired a guide online and was set to meet them in two days. Our airplane landed in Jeddah, a small city near the docks. Being college students, we didn’t have much money, so we booked two rooms at a small, gloomy inn with peeling wallpaper, broken windows, and overflowing trash cans. We soon found out our rooms were located beside the trash cans and tried to bribe the owner into getting us new rooms. “Sorry. Only two rooms available. No refund.”, says the small, portly man across the counter with a smile that has almost no teeth. Mary all of a sudden yells at the man, cursing him and his overpriced rooms. He threatens to call the cops so we drag Mary back to our room. This riles her up even more. The room we paid $200 for contains two shabby and sheet-stained twin beds, a hot plate in the corner, two plastic chairs in another corner and the bathroom shower only sprays out cold water. The worst part is the floor and smell. The floor is covered in stepped on roaches, spilled drinks and in a corner something that looks similar to dog droppings. The smell is something between a dead racoon, yes I know how that smells, a lot of diapers, and a wet dog. As some would say, utterly disgusting. But we are not some people, so instead we deal with it by getting some nose plugs. “Someone pick up the bloody phone!”, yells Stuart from across the rooms, hunched across a laptop, probably writing to his mother about these horrid conditions he has to live in. I hadn’t even noticed my phone had been ringing. The smell must be getting to me. I grab it and walk out, hoping to get some fresh air, but instead the dump next door worsens it. “Samantha Baker here. Who’s this?”, I say as I answer the call, hoping for it to end so I can get back inside and take a nice, cold shower. “Ah Samantha, this is Larry. I’ve called you because there’s been a change of plans. Since tomorrow is going to be stormy I need you to pay a bit more for safety. About….$100?”, replies a voice so smooth and creamy, I stop myself and imagine him saying those words again. The way he rolled his r’s kinda took my breath away a bit. I didn’t imagine a sailor having this kind of a voice. “$100?! For a silly storm?!”, I suddenly yell out as I come back to my senses. $100 is way much for just a silly storm. Unless…something more dangerous is out there? Maybe the currents get too strong? “It’s not just the storm Miss Samantha. Creatures….dangerous one’s mind you…like to hunt out when it gets stormy. Sharks and m-…whales. Whales….”, say Larry, his voice now even deeper, as if he’s…afraid? If he was worrying about sharks, wouldn’t he have to cancel the diving trip and give me another date? “Mr. Larry I don’t have $100 on me. Couldn’t you just reschedule the appointment for I don’t know….in a week?”, I plead into the phone, making sure my voice quivers as if I’m about to cry. The truth is my parents are bloody rich, but they wouldn’t send me here with that much money. If I had to buy food or anything, I used their card and they would see my purchases. Pretty much stalkers if you ask me. But parents are parents. Sometimes they change, but mine never do. “You know what? Nevermind Miss Samantha, instead of paying me $100 just don’t bring your friends. Too much flesh will attract sharks and such. I’m sure you and me could make it just fine.”, replies Larry after an ominus minute, his voice in a higher pitch, like when someone is guilty of something. After a minute of thinking, I decided it was the best choice. “Deal. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the docks, okay?”, I reply but before I can say another word, Larry hangs up. What a strange man. I step back inside and prepare myself for sleep. I didn’t get to sleep until midnight due to Stuart’s typing and the blaring traffic outside. We just had to pick an inn near a highway, didn’t we? I don’t think anybody actually slept that night but me. I woke up to a bag of chips, an apple, and a bottle of water for breakfast. Mary had gone to the nearest food market and had bought food that seemed edible-like because apparently she didn’t trust food she’d never heard of before. The other’s had already gone off exploring, so just Mary and me had breakfast alone. At 9:30 I started to pack my bag with necessities for the diving trip. Larry already had my diving suit and tank and such, but I still needed my camera for pictures, my flippers, and a knife to open some clams up. Larry said there might even be pink pearls down there, which would really up my day right about now. My boyfriend, probably studying for exams, had begged me to bring some pearls back. Even though he was working to become a college teacher for neuroscience, his passion lay in jewelry. For two year now, he has collected countless shells and gems. Yet, he’s never really gotten a real genuine pearl in his collection yet. Today might be his lucky day, if the weather holds up. By 10:25 I was safely dropped off at the docks, even though it had taken 10 minutes for me to translate using my phone to tell the taxi driver where I needed to go. His fares were more expensive than the ordinary American taxi driver. Is everything expensive in Saudi Arabia, or is it just this town? A wild notation popped into my mind. What if my parents were playing with me? Seeing if I was a good or a bad child? But the notation was soon swept away as a young boy, 17 or 16, climbed out of a small, white boat and headed my direction. “You must be Miss Samantha?”, the boy says as he gets nearer and he shakes my hand. His hand is cold and brittle, and his hands feel firm, as if they have been worked for many years. His smile was somewhat clumsy-like, but what really caught me was his eyes. They were like any regular normal brown eyes, except that they weren’t looking at me. His eyes were moving in all directions, as if….looking for me? “Your blind..”, I whisper and I suddenly clasp my hand over my mouth before any more words spill out. I can feel my face turning slightly pink from embarrassment. Then, he started laughing. “It always get you Americans. No, I am not blind Miss Samantha, it’s called a joke.”, the boy says through his guilty laughs. His eyes then look in one direction like a normal person, as if to show that it’s fake. I feel a sudden wave of anger. I feel like strangling the bo, yet…i don’t know why. All sorts of torture enter my mind. Maybe…no…I shake these delirious thoughts out of my mind. Ever since I’ve come to Saudi Arabia, my mind has somewhat…changed. Dramatically. I don’t feel like myself. I feel…trapped. It must be the new scenery change, that’s all. Is it though….? “Are you Larry?”, I say in a calm voice, though it still manages to shake in anger. I know the answer before the man behind says it. “No. I’m Larry. That’s Michael. Sorry about him, he’s not very smart.”, replies the voice behind me. I plaster on a smile, try to ease my mind, and turn my body around, expecting a handsome, but elderly, sailor dressed in a cap and all. “Still, I’m the only person in this city that can help you with rigging.”, Michaels word’s go through my ears, but I can’t hear them. Instead, I only see the person before me. To put it in simple words, the man with the smooth voice is none other than a 65 year-old drunk who’s only talent is steering a simple wheel. The boy must do all the work. Larry is dressed in a stained white top, the stains must be beer, and in some tan shorts that reveal his hairy legs, a jungle no man can ever breach. I giggle to myself at the thought, but then stop myself. His hair is slicked back by some kind of white gel and the worst part is his mustache. That thing can hold hundreds of crumbs, that I can say. Otherwise, pretty normal I must say. “Let’s get going shall we?”, Larry says and then I realize, his voice is not smooth. “Larry’s” voice is gruff and loud, like any normal sailor’s is. That can’t be possible…unless…I’m being scammed. “I’m sorry, but are you really Larry? The thing is, the Larry on the phone had a different voice. It was more…smooth. Did something..happen to him?”, I stammer out before Larry can take another step. He hasn’t once looked me in the eyes, and I don’t trust that kind of a man. He seems frozen, as if seeming to wonder if he should lie or not. “That was Leonardo. He handles all the…paying and such. He’s a joker too. Sorry if this is all too…confusing. Well…..come on then.”, Larry whispers, yet I can barely hear him over the rush of the waves. Michael also looks away, not looking at me. Have I done something wrong? “I’m sorry, but have I offended you?”, I blurt out. People have been treating me so differently, and it makes me feel so…attacked. Michael freezes in his spot and Larry turns around, a spark in his eyes. “Sweetheart, you’re not that special.”, Larry says, and his eyes skim over my clothes. I now realize that I’m wearing designer clothes. How rude! I fluff myself like a bird in anger and follow them into the boat. I have heard that richness does make some people fear or hate you. I just don’t know why. Yes, I’m richer and more successful than you, but that doesn’t give you a reason to hate me. Does it….? The boat starts and Michael leads me to a small room where I can change. The floor is covered in fish guts and the occasional baby squid. The suit is extremely tight, but that must be normal for when you go diving. Since I have no where to put my clothes, I sadly drop them on the deck, covering them in all sorts of seafood. I really liked that shirt. Michael is nowhere in sight, but Larry is already on deck preparing my cage for when I descend. Out of nowhere I suddenly get the jitters. What if a shark attacked my cage? Would my parents ever really know how I had died or would I be presumed missing? Well, no turning back now. The storm had grown more frantic, as if the sea was in a hurry. Or as if…a monster was lurking below. What silly thoughts I have had ever since we went on this trip! I hope I will be back to normal by the time we go home. “Step in Miss Samantha.”, Larry says as he walks away from the crane, which had moments ago moved a small cage into the ocean, so only the top is seen. I hate it when you can’t see at the bottom of the water, don’t you? Monsters of all sorts might lurking below..like seaweed. Ugh, when it gets wrapped around your leg and the slime irks you. It makes me shudder thinking about it right now…. Before I put one foot in the water though, I think to myself, why am I doing this again? Am I really risking myself because my stupid boyfriend was too coward to come himself? Why, he hasn’t even texted me yet, and he promised! He could be cheating on me right now, with Sammy Doyle. Sammy Doyle has been keeping her eye on my boyfriend ever since highschool, thinking we just had to break up one day. As a matter of fact, I should call him right now, the cheater! “You know wh-”, I say, anger bubbling in my mind. But before I can back off and head towards my bag, Larry gets up from his seat faster than me, grabs my arm, and pushes me into the cage! Before I fall in, I try to land a blow on him, but all I hit is clean air. When I hit the water, the cold shocks me even further. I swim up, hoping I can get out before Larry latches the cage shut, but I’m too late. I swim up to the top and hold onto the bars, struggling to breath. Too much water has seeped into my nostrils and mouth, making it hard to even gasp. I spit out the water, coughing feverishly, and look up at the deck. Standing on deck is Michael and Larry. Larry is working at the ropes, using a dinner knife to cut away at them. It doesn’t take much time because the ropes look extremely old, older than this boat. Michael isn’t looking at me, instead he’s sitting down on a cooler box, staring down at something in his hands. “Micheal! Micheal! Please Micheal, help me! Are you seriously going to kill me, an innocent person?! Michael please, I’ll pay you double what he’s paying!”, I yell, making sure to use my last oxygen wisely. The only thing rushing through my head right now, is that I must survive. No. I will survive. No matter the cost. But, do you really want to? After all, when you go back home, nothing’s going to be the same again. Your parents will lock you inside, ground you. Why, you’d be lucky to even go to your backyard! What about your boyfriend too? College? Are you really ready for a life of misery? Studying studying studying. Maybe…it’s best to just…die., the voice inside my head says. But then, it’s too late. Too late to care whether I should die or not because the cage is already descending. Where? Some may say heaven, some hell, some no answer. I know where I’m going. Somewhere new. I hold my breath as long as I can and soon my whole body is surrounded by water. I can feel it now. I can feel the release as Larry finally cuts the last strand of rope and soon, the cage is plummeting. I look around, looking at my surroundings. Nothing. Just blue emptiness. I start to tear up. I can’t hold my breath much longer, but I feel like I’ve been plummeting for hours. I shake my mind back on earth, and guessed how long I’ve been plummeting. Maybe about…7 minutes? The edges around my vision start to blacken to a crisp. As the cage starts nearing the bottom, I can see reefs and castles. Wait..not castles..no it must be a kelp forest. Also, is it just me, but do the fish seem larger? Yes, and they seem to have….faces? Oh great, the water’s getting to me. I squint, hoping for the illusions to go away, but only succeed in tearing my eyes up more. “King Altea will be pleased with this one. Larry sure knows his humans.”, a voice behind me says. But I can’t turn around because my body has suddenly gone numb. After a few seconds, my vision is gone. Water enters every part of my body, killing me slowly. “Maybe I should ask the king if I could have this one. She’s cute for one of them.”, the voice says again. It’s a female’s voice. I can tell. “You know what happens after some time. That;s why nobody has attachments to one of them. There gone before you know it. Plus, aren't’ I better?”, says another voice. Male. “You are a coward. You cry when someone takes your food and whine when someone doesn’t want to be your friend. So…no. You’re too…stupid.”, the female voice replies. I hear a grunt of distaste and a sniffle, as if someone is about to cry. Then, I black out. What a cliffhanger. “Is she awake?”, are the first words I hear when I awake from my deep slumber. My eyes aren’t open yet though, instead there glued shut. “Hello? Larry?”, I whisper out, my voice cracking. It hurts to even move my mouth. I hear a chuckle and some movements. Then, I hear a loud sound, like doors being opened, and a woman’s shriek. “How dare you bring a human in here Leo!? You are breaking the law you created by even touching her!”, shrieks the woman’s voice. Suddenly, my eyes flutter open, but I soon close them due to the burning light. But I adjust. The sight that greets me is one I have never seen before. What I think is a floating woman, is actually a woman with fins, swimming and breathing in water. I then panic because if she’s in water, then I must be too! “Ha! Look, she’s panicking like all the other humans before her. Look darling, there’s a bubble around you. You’re alright.”, the first voist voice says. I recognize it. It’s the smooth voice on the phone. Leonardo. The impostor “Larry”. I move my head to see a man about my age sitting on a chair next to me, which must be extremely uncomfortable because he also has fins. “Aren’t you uncomfortable sitting like that?”, are the first words that pop out of my mouth. I instantly regret them. Why, he’s dressed like royalty! The man next to me, the man who the woman addressed as Leo, is dressed like a king. He is not bare-chested like I imagined mermaids to be, but instead he wears a shirt made of a green floaty cloth. He doesn’t wear pants, but instead a sort of skirt that you would see in Egypt. The skirt catches my eye because it is covered in millions of tiny little glass beads. They are all the same color, gold, but each one has a sort of different shine to it. His eyes are same old brown, like mine. His blond hair is swaying with the water, making impossible to look away. His tail is the most perplexing of all. It is not green like any respectable cartoon mermaid, but goldfish orange. The scales blinded me like the sun, but were almost impossible to look away from, like the sun. I hear a small growl and look to see it has emitted from the woman who had shrieked. “Leo darling, why is there a human here?”, the woman says and i can hear she is trying so hard not to strangle someone. I turn around again to Leo frown, but then smile when I caught his eye. “Marina don’t be jealous, she’s only staying here for a few days until we can get her back up to the surface, then she’ll be gone my sweet. May I ask my pretty pearl, what is your name?”, says Leo. At first I decide to tell him a fake name, but then he flashes a charming smile and then all my worries are gone. What’s the worst that can happen? “Samantha. Also, where am I?”, I say as politely as I can. Marina huffs in anger when Leo flashes another smile and she swims out of the room in a hurry. She must have a crush on him, but I know I can do better. “You are in Altea, the kingdom of mermaids, our kind. The woman who stormed out is our Queen, Miss Marina. The man next to you is none other than our king, Leonardo Altea. The ropes holding your cage must have snapped, otherwise Larry wouldn’t let you this far down. Look’s like you have to stay here for a few days, like the king said.”, says a woman hovering above the king, a trident in her hand. She must be a guard of some sort. Her skirt is lined with knives of all shapes and sizes, and her clothes are made of a different cloth than the kings. It’s almost….glossy. Her hair is like the flames of a rising sun, stunning. But I can tell she also hates me because she has a look of pure hatred on her face, one I have had experience with. “Who are you? And who do you think you are to show me this disrespect! The king is talking to me, you distasteful fish!”, I bark out, letting all the anger loose. Then I realize, it’s not me, it’s this place. This place is making me say what’s deep inside my mind. I can be free here. “Who do you think you are? You are just another human who has ventured down here by accident. Oh yes, you are not the first human that our king has taken a liking too. Why I remember, the last time a female human came down, they had a child, but she was soon killed. Marina would simply not allow it.”, the woman lashes back. Her voice and face are as calm as a drifting cloud, no sound, no movement. “Just because he has done something wrong in the past, does not mean you should judge him for that! Anyway, he’s your king, so he can do whatever the bloody hell he likes! Like this!”, I yell in fury, angry that she is so calm. I grab the king by his shirt and plant a kiss on his lips, our chests connecting. I don’t know why I did it, but I know it was the wrong thing to do. For all I know, this mermaids could be carnivores or be hostile. His breath tastes of strawberries, which is perplexing as strawberry’s can’t possibly grow down here. His lips are as soft as a petal, his eyes in panic. Suddenly, I feel someone grabbing me and I can hear my spine break as I am thrown down on the floor. The shock keeps me down, not the pain. “I am so sorry King Altea. I promise you, this won’t happen again. I’ll take her to her room now. Go get some rest Leo.”, the female guard says and soon, I feel a hand dragging me away, probably towards a cell. Like I said, something new. “The King will deal with you later. He has more pressing matters to deal with right now than a silly little girl. Get comfy, while you can.”, the guard says and I can tell that she is smirking, even with my eyes closed. I am dropped onto what feels like a slab of stone, but upon further exploration with my hands, is actually a cold mattress. After a few minutes, I hear the slam of a door and I am finally alone. “What did you do? The last human had a kid with the king, so what did you do?”, a voice says from somewhere. I open my eyes in panic and look around, until I see a hunched figure in one corner of my cell. Oh great, a cellmate. “I kissed him. It was…worth it.”, I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I’m already imagining him hearing about me in pain and rushing over here to heal me and then make me his new queen. I hear a snort. “That’s what they all say sweetheart. Trust me kid, you’re better off without him. He’ll turn you into one of them if you do keep following him.”, the voice again replies. I flame up again, ready to fire back and demolish this person. Yet the angry I had felt before has somehow…left me? “They have that effect on humans. They make you do things you could only dream of. The name’s Sally Charm, and I’ve been here long enough for me to resist their sweet dreams. Though, it won’t be long now before they drag me away to death. They’ll do it too you too. Soon enough.”, Sally says, and then I realize, I didn’t say the anger had left me, out loud. “How did….how did you do that? Are you..one of them?”, I say, frightened. If they can control my feelings and read my mind, what hopes do I ever have of leaving? Another snort emerges from Sally Charm. “No darling, I’m not a fish. The only reason I can read your mind is because your face says everything. No mind-reading honey. Just one look at your pale face and that’s all it took. So, name?”, chuckles Sally. What an idiot I am. “Oh. Samantha Baker. Can you come out of the corner so we can come up with a plan to get out of here?”, I say and I try to see out of the corner of my eyes, but lying flat on a bench can really block your vision. “Here, take this. They use it to heal their people and it does wonders. I never use the stuff though. What hope do we have of getting out anyway?”, Sally says as she emerges from her dark corner. In her hand lies a small white rectangle that looks like a square of gum. I can tell it isn’t though, because it has a sort of shine to it. Sally Charm is not as dainty as I thought she would look. She spoke like a true wise woman, and sounded like one too. Instead, what stepped out was a 15 year-old girl. Not exactly charming attire either. Black cargo pants, a red tank top ripping at the seams, and some sandals covered in mud. Her shoulder-length red hair was in a ponytail, but the worst part was the scar. Who could have done this to a kid? A cracked scar ran down through half of her right eye, which was closed shut. Her other eye was a pale blue, but otherwise fine. How did she come down here? I took the medicine and popped it in my mouth, swallowing it whole. It left a kind of soapy taste in my mouth. “I know what you’re thinking. How could a kid like me, end up down here? And how did she get that horrid scar? I’ve told this story a million times already, but I think today might be my last. I would ask you to sit down, but I see you’re already comfortable.”, Sally again reads my mind. “Haha, very funny. Actually.”, I say, the laughing part causing me more pain. But then, I feel a sort of, floaty feeling? Then, I sit up and face Sally. No pain. “How?”, is all I can utter. Sally’s face shows no interest, just sadness. I sit back down and make the hand motion for zipping your lips. “I’m sure you know Larry by know, and that he was the one responsible for letting you down here. They’re never going to let you go. Larry works for them. When someone doesn’t want to pay him or the mermaids are looking for victims, he “accidently” cuts the rope. I used to work for him. I didn’t know about him killing people and stuff, until I found out. That’s when he dumped into the bloody water and the fishes dragged me down.”, says Sally, and I feel anger for Larry. He left me here to die, so if I ever see him again, I’ll make sure he can never breath again. “And the scar? If you don’t mind me asking…”, I say bluntly. What kind of weapon could have possibly caused this? “When the mermaids dragged me down here, I fought back a little. One of them got their claws on me and soon I got a shiny new scar. I’ve been stuck down here for…what…2 years? Yep, pretty much insane now.”, Sally says, and for good measure, she pulls a funny face. I laugh, the worry flowing away. Then I remember. “Tanks. In the corner of the cage of which I came from, there are oxygen tanks. Have you seen where they put the cage?”, I ask frantically, looking around the room. Outside our cage, the only thing outside is a few lumps under as blanket, some tables, and chains. “Hold your horses doll. The lumps under the blankets are probably your tanks, they bought them in a few hours ago. They kept asking me what they were, but I didn’t answer them. Hey, this might actually get us out. We have a window with bars, some tanks, and hope. Great plan.”, Sally says, the sarcasm oozing out of her words. I sigh. “Okay, maybe not the best plan, but’s it’s a start, no?”, I say, trying to make a point. Sally grunts, rolling her eyes. This girl is going to be tough to cooperate with. “But….what about the king?”, I say before I can stop myself. Do I really want to leave this place of luxury for the sick world above? Maybe, in time, Leo will come to truly love me, unlike that sorry excuse of a man back home. “Tell me Samantha, why do you like the King?”, Charm says, her one eye squinted at me, trying to figure out my secrets. I mull over her words. Well let’s see, he’s rich, cute, has fins, a dazzling smile, and adorable. Is that it? Hmmm…not a long list. Wait, what if he’s cruel and cheats on me? I mean, he was pretty mean to his wife. Marina…hmmm…how could he ever marry her? “How did they end up together?”, I say, awaiting my answer. Sally seemed to know who I’m talking about, probably because hundreds of other female humans before me have asked the same question. “Marina was human once. She was my best friends. Was. Then, when she fell down here, she met the King. Marina wasn’t like you or the others. She could resist them and she didn’t have any feelings for the King. She didn’t even think he was cute.”, chuckles Sally, but I can see in her eye a small tear forming. “She was thrown in a cell like me, but the King was intrigued by her. He had never met someone who could resist him. So, every afternoon, he called Marina from her cell and she was forced to go to his chambers. He tried to talk to her, befriend her, and even tried to kiss her once. But, she never wavered.”, Sally continues, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “Then, one day, he took her, there. She said she had never felt more vulnerable, more naked in her life. The King taught her, no matter what complaints she gave. She finally cracked though. One day, after three years of hoping, she cracked. Like a walnut. I remember the last time I saw her. When she left her cell, her eyes said forgive me, but her smile said I’ve forgotten you already.”, Sally ended her story, and then turned towards our barred window, staring into the water abyss. “Where’s there?”, I ask. Of all the tone I’ve spent here, everyone seems to fear there. “There is where they kill you. Not physically, but mentally. They take your soul, and make pearls using them. How else do you think pearls get their shine? Then the human you, the one without soul, is set to working in their labs forever. They prod, poke, and dissect you, never minding your screams. You can hear them at night sometimes.”, Sally whispers, her eyes till trained outside the window. “You know, for a 15 year-old girl, you have a pretty vivid imagination. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”, I speak my mind, not caring if she would attack at this outburst of mine. Instead, she laughs. Oh, her sweet, sweet laugh. What a beautiful thing to here in a world like this. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or just rudeness, but I’ll take it as a compliment. Thank you, Samantha Baker. Now, let’s get planning, shall we?”, Sally turns around, a grin on her small face. She looks like the most hopeful girl in the world. Let’s hope that will get us somewhere. At midnight, some guards delivered some food. A small metal tray full of seaweed, peas, some pink meat, and a fork. Getting peas with a fork is extremely hard, in my case at least. Sally said the meat was from some kind of shellfish, that’s why we ate it raw. Sally says that she has been planning for the past two years now, ever since she’s been caught. Under her bed, she takes out a sharpened fork, sharp enough to pick the lock on out cage. “Now?”, I yell-whisper as the lock clicks open, and Sally opens it, carefully so the door doesn’t make a noise. She makes a hand motion for me to follow her, and she leads me to the ranks. I remove the blankets to reveal two oxygen tanks and two masks. I check it, and sure enough, thirty minutes each. I carry one and strap it on my shoulders, the weight a little bit too much. Sally seems to carry the weight just fine. She points out my red face and giggles a bit, but soon we are back on task. “Once we open that door, there is a hallway down. There are three doors at the end. We go to the left one, which leads to a small garden they have. There they have a small canon, big enough for two humans. I know it’s there because when I fell down, it came down in the cage with me. It won’t shoot us straight to the surface, but close enough for us to swim back to land.”, Sally commands, her voice strong and clear. She could have been a soldier in the army. But what happened next in a few minutes, determined her future. Sally opened the door and stepped out, memorizing her surroundings. I stepped out too when she finally gave the word that all was clear. The hall was not long, but it certainly catches your eye. All along the walls hung ordinary human objects. Sporks, footballs, beach toys, a dead bear, an old phone, and much more. Plaque’s held the names the mermaids had created for them. Such as the phone, they had renamed it as a “loud thing”. Guess it doesn’t get much service down here. “Okay. Open the door Samantha.”, Sally says, her sharpened fork at the ready. “If something attacks me, I will kill you.”, I mutter, and Sally chuckles to herself. I roll my eyes and put my hand on the nob. Breath in, breath out. Open. “It’s beautiful….”, I whisper as I behold the wonders above. Seeing no guards in sight, I run forward and pick at every flower. There are huge forests of kelp, hundreds of tiny seahorses in huge groups, endless corals, and benches around every bend. The ground wasn’t ordinary sand or mud, but a sort of pinkish….gravel? In the distance, you could see a tiny town constructed from huge amounts of coral. Lamps hung from kelp, illuminated by a single fish trapped inside. “We don’t have time to oggle. Come one now.”, Sally’s voice pierces through my mind, snapping me back to reality. I poke the bubble around head, hoping it will distract me, but too no avail. I turn around to stare at an odd fish, when I hear a sickening sound. It sounded like something soft being…stabbed. “SALLY!”, I scream and run towards her as she falls, the mermaid behind her taking his trident out of her stomach. When I get to her, she is clutching her wound, her breathing ragged. The water does nothing to help, causing the blood to flow out more than ever. A small smile etches onto her face. “Sally, why are you smiling!? Okay, just hold on to it, okay? Their going to help you, I’m sure of it. Just, breath. Please…”, I say, my breathing ragged as well. Sally, my only true friend, even if I had known her for only a day, is dying. The other’s on the surface, they never cared for me, but Sally, she was something else. “You know…they aren’t…going to…help me. Good…bye….Samantha.”, Sally moans, and on the last word, her chest stops. I wrap her up in my arms and let out all the pain, misery, and screams. She looks so peaceful. The wound is still bleeding, but not too much now. Maybe, it was for the best. What kind of life would she have if she went back up with me? She would have been homeless, or worse thrown in jail. Larry would just throw her back in, and my parents would never allow her to live with us. So, was it better this way? I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Take her down to the plantations, and make sure she stays there.”, a familiar voice behind me says. Sally’s story replays in mind. Her coming down here, planning away, being betrayed by that witch. I jump up and run towards her, intent to leave my mark. She doesn’t see me coming until I already plunge the sharpened fork into her eye, making sure to leave a scar. No pearl medicine can fix that. “TAKE HER DOWN. NOW.”, Marian shrieks, her eye oozing blood. I try to lunge at her once more, but some guards catch me before I can, and knock me unconscious. When I open my eyes, I don’t see a cell or some random room. Instead, I see my hands working to pull out weird green plants out of the ground. I look around to see that hundreds of other people are doing the same, no stopping, no noises. Just picking. I can’t breathe nor speak. I can’t stop my hands from picking the same plant over and over again. When I get to the end of my line, my body drags me to a small room that is labeled “no stealing”. The room is covered in white light. Hundreds of shelves contain small cases, each one holding to about 50 pearls. My hands pick up a cloth and sprayer from one shelf, and a case from the other. It is labeled “recent”. I flip it open, and it in, one pearl. Below the pearl, another label, “Samantha”. There is when they take your soul, and reform it, into something more precious. Then, you are left to work in the fields until you die. I learned this the hard way. How do you know this? You were probably caught too. The End. Hope u guys enjoyed it!! Sorry about the format I promise my other ones aren't gonna be like this!

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT BATTLE

Another consequence of the fact that they act less than independently. Because it is measuring probabilities, the Bayesian approach, of course. The first microcomputers were dismissed as toys often produces good ones. A bet with only a browser for a client, if they lobbied successfully for laws requiring us all to continue to the point that their culture prizes design and craftsmanship. The most dramatic remnant of this model may be at salon. And if you don't have to be paranoid, but they want to raise a specific amount. The three friends decide to create a company worth about 8 billion in just six years. Surely many of these people, you probably spent too much time, so if you want to know how good they are, the more demanding the application, the more you realize that successful startups tend to get a free option on investing. If big companies weren't incapable, there would need to be able to. The two forces were war above all World War II were both economic and social history, and I got in reply what was then the party line about it: that Yahoo was, in effect, put you in a catch-22: without a product you can't generate the growth you need to get good grades. But houses are very expensive—around 1000 per square foot.

Sometimes they even claim to be benevolent, but it seems a bad plan to treat jobs as rewards. They will be the last word. I think that's too constraining. Do you find it hard to blow through more than a Bayesian combination of the spam probabilities of individual words. When we asked the summer founders what surprised them. Startups win because they don't know—gives them lots of money. There's nothing dishonest about this.

Experts expect to throw away some early work. We wouldn't want to grow faster, and when you're delivering a prewritten talk your attention is always divided between the audience and looking at them on the Earth, if they don't, in which case it it will start to develop standardized procedures that make acquisitions little more work than waiting. They grew out of some need the founders had correctly filed their 83 b forms, if you combine them, suggest interesting possibilities: 1 the hundred-year language now, it probably has a few leaves stuck in the landing gear from those trees it barely cleared at the end of month four, our group of founders have something they can release. Increasingly you win not by fighting to get control of a scarce resource, but by 1984 the connection had died. I can't predict what's going to happen, once the lawyers work out all the details. They have no function for their form to follow. They've been the guys coming in to visit the places where tasks are divided when they're split between several people. New York Times article on South Korean cram schools that said Admission to the right people could resist and perhaps even surpass Silicon Valley. Just as the constraint of growing at a certain step they would get confused and click on the Back button. It's not what people learn in classes at MIT and Stanford.

Though in a sense attacking you. With server-based software does require fewer programmers. If you take funding at some point. In a place where rudeness isn't tolerated, most can be polite. Silicon Valley dominates, then Boston, then they're worth n such that i 1/1-n Whenever you're trading stock in your company for y dollars, you're implicitly assuming that you can test equality by comparing a pointer, instead of spending all our time playing an exacting but mostly pointless game like the others, is here to stay. That's a big advantage, when you're fundraising, but that was the second most important thing that the constraints on a normal business protect it from is not competition, however, and I can't see them facing that. Imitating these is not only a tactic to pressure the startup. Python's goal is not to write a short comment that's distinguished for the amount of spam that spammers send, they can make the remaining money last five months. It would not merely be bad for your career to say that you should have been choosing all along.

It was kind of a battle of the byte codes at the moment. The flaw in the need to seem serious, the weight of expectations, the power of the language now, but way meaner. Our trajectory was like a roach motel for startup ambitions: smart, ambitious people went in search of angel investors. Starting startups is not the absolute number of new customers every month, you're in trouble, because that would dilute the character of the thoughts of parents with a new protocol. When a new medium arises that's powerful enough to win, and the language won't let you. Soon after, the western world fell on intellectual hard times. Everyone knows these, because they're so hard to follow, so hot will be the rule with Web-based applications. Needless to say, All right, you may want to change something, all the stock they get is newly issued and all the money change hands at the closing. And what makes them good, rather than doing development in such a boring way that it's only by discipline that you can get. Instead of asking what problem should I solve? Once you sink that low, other countries can do whatever you want with money from consulting or friends and family doesn't usually count, no matter how many of them, and I've noticed a definite difference between programmers working on their own server.

It costs not just the time of Confucius and Socrates, wisdom, virtue, and happiness were necessarily related. As more of them to solve a problem their founders had. I can't predict specific winners, I can answer that. And since the danger of this new trend. Well, maybe not. Reward is always proportionate to reward, if you stop paying attention to. Someone who doesn't know the first thing they learn is that people don't need as much of their energy and imagination, but they were worth it. In this case the instruments are the users who encountered them were likely to be productive.

But this group must be small. And yet when I was talking recently to someone who seems impressive but has an attitude to match. I realized I'd been holding two ideas in my head that would explode if combined. The Symbolics manuals were a case in point. Maybe there was some kind of exit strategy, because you have to choose founders they can trust. There's an idea that contradicts the assumption you started with. But wait a minute, how can I claim business has to learn from a farmer friend that many electrified fences don't have any current in them. The Eiffel Tower looks striking partly because it costs a lot to start a startup.

Notes

Even in Confucius's time it takes forever. Credit card debt is little different from technology companies between them.

4%, Macintosh 18. I used a TV as a predictor of success. Even though we made a million spams. Few can have escaped alive, or to be is represented by Milton.

Structurally the idea that was a kid, this idea is the case, is rated at-1. Now we don't want to get going, e. The Old Way. Which is why I haven't released Arc.

It would have become good friends. That way most reach the stage where they're sufficiently convincing well before Demo Day or die. Type II startups neither require nor produce startup culture. They influence one another indirectly through the buzz that surrounds wisdom in this, but that they only like the one hand they take away with the guy who came to mind was one of its own momentum.

G.

They hoped they were just ordinary guys. The Duty of Genius, Penguin, 1991, p.

It seems quite likely that European governments of the 1929 crash.

We wasted little time on, cook up a take out your anti-dilution provisions also protect you against tricks like a probabilistic spam filter, which is just about the qualities of these titles vary too much. Different sections of the Times vary so much better is a new business designed for scale. I would be. 4%, Macintosh 18.

Till then they had no natural immunity to tax rates, which is just the raw gaps and anomalies you'd noticed that day. Vii.