d e v o n
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Not today Justin
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hello vonnie
tumblr dot com
trying on a metaphor
RMH
Kaledo Art
oozey mess
styofa doing anything
Love Begins
Jules of Nature
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todays bird
if i look back, i am lost
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
tannertan36
will byers stan first human second
KIROKAZE
seen from T1
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from Belgium
seen from T1
seen from Italy
seen from Ukraine
seen from Türkiye
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Finland
seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
@jhorend
Learning more about the LS I haven’t played yet and.. I’m more than a bit grossed out. I’m not sure I want to play it at all. An achievement for killing neutral NPCs trying to flee? You save just a couple people just because one person is like “oh I know them”, and then lay blind waste to everyone else? In an entire rata, a city of families and shit?
Dude… I can’t play that. Why would I want to play that? I hope none of this is true because what the hell.
The First Invasion
While typically the sight of Kezza scurrying through the halls was nothing worth noting, she never did it in a bright, atrociously green professor’s robe. Dirt trailing behind every step, the asura kept at a brisk march through the Magistracy with little mind paid to those around her.
“I’m speaking with the Magistrate,” was the most courtesy paid to the few who stood between her and her office– his office. While urgency was held from the not-so veiled command, the look on her face was bordering on alarm.
It wasn’t long before she reached her destination, and pounded at the access panel with more than a few codes. She earns several buzzes of denial until a merrier chime is emitted, and the angry green asura is ‘granted’ an entry.
“TEOKKIN!! I require your immediate attention NOW!”
Hopefully, she wasn’t interrupting anything important.
The Magistrate, positioned behind the desk across the room that once belonged to the exasperated individual under the doorway, was visible in sections behind multiple columns of papers, and appeared to be brushing a noticeable layer of dust off his person.
Shifting his eyes upwards to meet where he suspected Kezza’s gaze was, Teokkin placed a hand on one of the towers and shuffled it aside, then clasped his hands together and leaned into the desk.
“Well, it must be of considerable importance if you would reiterate its urgency within two vocables, to mention nothing of you obtaining unauthorized entry to one of the most vital stations within this facility, but I suppose these vexations are inescapable given your… hm. That look is unbecoming of you.”
“Undead,” Kezza pronounced flatly, marching herself up to the desk. Both hands grasped the edge of her his desk, and her ears stood tall. Some dirt decorated her sleeves and face.. though on closer inspection, it looked more like dust or sand.
“Someone has sent an assault force into Metrica Province– an organized force of undead! Too many for one necromancer, or-or even a few. And their forms were, altered..-”
Kezza held back from continuing, waiting first to decide if Teokkin was taking her seriously. She was quickly realizing that were their places switched, she might not humor herself either. Despite it, the look on her face was as honest and dire as one might expect in the event of a real zombie invasion.
Teokkin maintained his stare, though blinked a few times after Kezza had given her report. Sighing, he sat back and withdrew a dataslate, tapping at its surface languidly. “Undead specimens were largely eradicated from Maguuma. Whatever left behind is most likely the result of an over-eccentric krewe’s irresponsibility. The remainder on Tyria is across an ocean. Could you provide an approximate quantity of stimulants you’ve consumed within the past cycle?”
“If I meant Risen, I would have stated ‘Risen’!” The tired Kezza snaps back, though much of the bite is lacking. The rush from the field to her dwelling was enough of an exertion, and facing an uncooperative Magistrate was almost enough to tucker her out entirely. Almost.
“These were not rogue specimens. Verify with auxiliary krewes in the vicinity, my report won’t be the only one!”
The Magistrate clicked his claws together and affixed his eyes on the ceiling with an exaggerated hum as he considered the suggestion. “Very well, I can humor you.” He retook the dataslate and drummed in a sequence of commands before verbally announcing into the device.
“To all Metrican observation and listening posts along the outskirts, provide immediate updates on activity within the proximity. If there is anything pertaining to dead things moving when they shouldn’t be, I wish to be informed about it.”
Seemingly satisfied, Teokkin set the dataslate onto the desk and slipped a paper out from one of the columns to begin scanning over it, appearing to have taken his focus off the previous matter entirely. “This is where you demonstrate your patience,” he stated flatly, not removing his gaze from the parchment. “I would suggest undertaking sanitation procedures in the meantime, but you don’t appear in a hurry to step out.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Kezza took a breath,“Tell me I wasn’t this much of an obstructionist.”
She looked down at her robes and begun messily brushing her sleeves clean of the sandy dust. “For your information, I was on a field synergy expedition with Pwitt when they appeared. I removed him from the situation and delivered him to my partner. As per protocol, in the event of an undead invasion, I came to you directly afterward.”
His eyes flitted towards Kezza in some small acknowledgement to her brief aside, though it elicited little else than that and a short exhalation. He cast a glance at the dataslate, though it would seem nothing of interest had been received in those seconds, as his focus didn’t linger.
His vision did catch on to the indifferent emptying of debris from the ex-Magistrix’s robe. Careless disposal? Or deliberate spite, he wondered.
“I’m not particularly concerned with the details. An approximation of where the sighting took place would be of more use, perhaps, but if this is as grand as you convey, then I’ve confidence in our surveillance capabilities. Or is there a critical defect they possess that I was not made aware of?”
Kezza gave him a flat look with her answer, “Outside Desider Atum and Artergon. But you won’t need my details once the krewes have reported in.”
A few careless glances at the dataslate and console hinted her anxiety over the lack of response, “Perhaps you should request roll call. The event may not have been as localized as–”
Suddenly, an affirming ding stirred from Teokkin’s dataslate. Followed by another, and another, and another still. Kezza stared at the device for a moment, then allowed her eyes to slowly lift in anticipation of Teokkin’s answer to them.
As if beckoned to answer by the brief lull that sat between the two asura, one of the communication terminals sprang to life with an enthusiastic beep-beep, the crimson indicator light flashing incessantly. Apparently, someone was trying to place a call.
Teokkin’s brow raised among the cacophony of notifications, withdrawing the hand that was already reaching for the dataslate. “Hrm. Inconvenient timing has become a staple of my existence.”
He leaned into the transmitter and thumbed the button to accept, uttering a brief, “State designation,” then took the dataslate and sat back to begin navigating its menus and alerts.
Almost before the Magistrate had concluded his statement, an answer came through riding on a blast of static and intermittent gunfire,
“KZZSST– SIPPI HERE! HAH– Y-YOU WOULDNT BELIEVE THE– ZZZZST– ACTION I’M GETTING HERE! IT’S JUST LIKE– MMPH, HEY!”
What sounds like a scuffle for the communicator between two angry rabbits plays out before the signal stabilizes and grainy, static-cut telemetry blasts to life on the screen. Gerik appears half-concealed behind electrical snow dancing across the screen, his free hand firmly planted on a mostly subdued Sippi’s face. His armor is scorched and smeared with hot tar in places, but he otherwise seems characteristically chipper,
“Ah! Excelsior, Magistrate! I have wonderful news– Metrica Province is currently besieged by a veritable army of mummified undead! I haven’t felt this alive in ages!”
The Magistrate’s eyes had already gone wide from his observance of the accounts presented on the dataslate, but his ears pointed in alarm when the live representation was provided. He slapped the dataslate down on his lap and practically shoved his face onto the screen, eyes darting about to catch glimpses of the surroundings.
“What in the Alchemy is- Report on your status! Is assistance required? What’s your location? What’s the nature of the threat? And why wasn’t this detected sooner?”
Before any reply could even be offered, Teokkin had already returned to his dataslate, skimming over the reports delivered.
“I think you made an understatement, Kezza.”
Kezza’s ears perked at each familiar voice, “Mummified?” She turned to her own dataslate to scan a smaller pool of reports, increasingly troubled until Teokkin had addressed her.
“I could only speak to my own witness! And they were teleported in!”
Gerik’s image flickers disconcertingly as something detonates in the background. When he comes back into focus, Sippi is absent, but clearly heard nearby.
“HAH-HAH! DELETED! Did you see THAT?!”
For his part, the Disaggregator does his best to appear disinterested, but a telltale sparkle in his eyes speaks of his barely contained giddiness.
“Yes, well– Excuse me–” He breaks off a moment, hurling a knife from his under his sleeve at something off-screen. The unmistakable thud of a body crumpling to the ground accompanies his return.
“As I was saying; I believe our uninvited guests were conjured here by someone– Something. I was in the middle of inspecting the Funhouse when they apparated and commenced hostilities. Inconsiderate, really.” Another wave of explosions rip through the telemetry, undercut by an increasingly unhinged chorus of laughter. When the image returns, both Gerik and Sippi are in focus, flushed and panting.
“Reinforcements are unnecessary at present–” Gerik manages between breaths, motioning for Sippi to cover their position, “As to your last query; I could ask you the same thing. Is Kezza there? How is Pwitt?”
Teokkin rubbed his scalp perturbedly. “They… translocated. So, these aren’t Orrian.”
Teokkin pulled up the dataslate again, tapping in a sequence of orders. “The Funhouse is secure, then. To be expected. Artergon’s gates are withstanding, though the Lionguard’s reputation leaves much to be desired. Desider Atum, however…”
Teokkin glanced at his staff, placed in its magnetic holdings and ready to be withdrawn within immediate notice.
“I’m deploying a detachment and ordering the proximate outposts to regroup there. It’s our most significant position in that region and I have enough certainty that the Peacemakers already stationed there will not deny the aid. I cannot determine the location as something to halt the assailant’s advance, since they appear to have had minimal difficulty bypassing it to siege the Funhouse, but it leaves a hole in their lines that they will have to attempt to fill.”
Spinning to face the screen and meet Gerik’s gaze once again, he inhaled and raised his hand as if about to deliver an order, though then hesitated and turned towards Kezza.
“They’re well. Kezza, you’re free to join Gerik at the Funhouse if you so wish, but I’ll not see you at Desider Atum. It is no fortress, and if these reports are to be believed to their fullest, it will not hold.”
Kezza wore a firm look and gave a nod at the suggestion of the Funhouse, having decided to aid the others as soon as the feed was live. But before she could confirm the intention, she’s silenced by the order, and brought to pause.
“Impermissible. Desider Atum was too populated to leave it without reconnaissance,” she asserted, “I’ll go alone if it spares you personnel concern.”
[a/n: post 7, retcon ‘my partner’ to ‘safety’]
Teokkin snorted his disapproval before speaking it. “You know as well as I do that it is not a matter of how many grunts to send, but which ones. I would rather you be present in a nearby, already fortified position than trekking out to what is essentially a makeshift palisade.”
The First Invasion
While typically the sight of Kezza scurrying through the halls was nothing worth noting, she never did it in a bright, atrociously green professor’s robe. Dirt trailing behind every step, the asura kept at a brisk march through the Magistracy with little mind paid to those around her.
“I’m speaking with the Magistrate,” was the most courtesy paid to the few who stood between her and her office– his office. While urgency was held from the not-so veiled command, the look on her face was bordering on alarm.
It wasn’t long before she reached her destination, and pounded at the access panel with more than a few codes. She earns several buzzes of denial until a merrier chime is emitted, and the angry green asura is ‘granted’ an entry.
“TEOKKIN!! I require your immediate attention NOW!”
Hopefully, she wasn’t interrupting anything important.
The Magistrate, positioned behind the desk across the room that once belonged to the exasperated individual under the doorway, was visible in sections behind multiple columns of papers, and appeared to be brushing a noticeable layer of dust off his person.
Shifting his eyes upwards to meet where he suspected Kezza’s gaze was, Teokkin placed a hand on one of the towers and shuffled it aside, then clasped his hands together and leaned into the desk.
“Well, it must be of considerable importance if you would reiterate its urgency within two vocables, to mention nothing of you obtaining unauthorized entry to one of the most vital stations within this facility, but I suppose these vexations are inescapable given your… hm. That look is unbecoming of you.”
“Undead,” Kezza pronounced flatly, marching herself up to the desk. Both hands grasped the edge of her his desk, and her ears stood tall. Some dirt decorated her sleeves and face.. though on closer inspection, it looked more like dust or sand.
“Someone has sent an assault force into Metrica Province– an organized force of undead! Too many for one necromancer, or-or even a few. And their forms were, altered..-”
Kezza held back from continuing, waiting first to decide if Teokkin was taking her seriously. She was quickly realizing that were their places switched, she might not humor herself either. Despite it, the look on her face was as honest and dire as one might expect in the event of a real zombie invasion.
Teokkin maintained his stare, though blinked a few times after Kezza had given her report. Sighing, he sat back and withdrew a dataslate, tapping at its surface languidly. “Undead specimens were largely eradicated from Maguuma. Whatever left behind is most likely the result of an over-eccentric krewe’s irresponsibility. The remainder on Tyria is across an ocean. Could you provide an approximate quantity of stimulants you’ve consumed within the past cycle?”
“If I meant Risen, I would have stated ‘Risen’!” The tired Kezza snaps back, though much of the bite is lacking. The rush from the field to her dwelling was enough of an exertion, and facing an uncooperative Magistrate was almost enough to tucker her out entirely. Almost.
“These were not rogue specimens. Verify with auxiliary krewes in the vicinity, my report won’t be the only one!”
The Magistrate clicked his claws together and affixed his eyes on the ceiling with an exaggerated hum as he considered the suggestion. “Very well, I can humor you.” He retook the dataslate and drummed in a sequence of commands before verbally announcing into the device.
“To all Metrican observation and listening posts along the outskirts, provide immediate updates on activity within the proximity. If there is anything pertaining to dead things moving when they shouldn’t be, I wish to be informed about it.”
Seemingly satisfied, Teokkin set the dataslate onto the desk and slipped a paper out from one of the columns to begin scanning over it, appearing to have taken his focus off the previous matter entirely. “This is where you demonstrate your patience,” he stated flatly, not removing his gaze from the parchment. “I would suggest undertaking sanitation procedures in the meantime, but you don’t appear in a hurry to step out.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Kezza took a breath,“Tell me I wasn’t this much of an obstructionist.”
She looked down at her robes and begun messily brushing her sleeves clean of the sandy dust. “For your information, I was on a field synergy expedition with Pwitt when they appeared. I removed him from the situation and delivered him to my partner. As per protocol, in the event of an undead invasion, I came to you directly afterward.”
His eyes flitted towards Kezza in some small acknowledgement to her brief aside, though it elicited little else than that and a short exhalation. He cast a glance at the dataslate, though it would seem nothing of interest had been received in those seconds, as his focus didn’t linger.
His vision did catch on to the indifferent emptying of debris from the ex-Magistrix’s robe. Careless disposal? Or deliberate spite, he wondered.
“I’m not particularly concerned with the details. An approximation of where the sighting took place would be of more use, perhaps, but if this is as grand as you convey, then I’ve confidence in our surveillance capabilities. Or is there a critical defect they possess that I was not made aware of?”
Kezza gave him a flat look with her answer, “Outside Desider Atum and Artergon. But you won’t need my details once the krewes have reported in.”
A few careless glances at the dataslate and console hinted her anxiety over the lack of response, “Perhaps you should request roll call. The event may not have been as localized as–”
Suddenly, an affirming ding stirred from Teokkin’s dataslate. Followed by another, and another, and another still. Kezza stared at the device for a moment, then allowed her eyes to slowly lift in anticipation of Teokkin’s answer to them.
As if beckoned to answer by the brief lull that sat between the two asura, one of the communication terminals sprang to life with an enthusiastic beep-beep, the crimson indicator light flashing incessantly. Apparently, someone was trying to place a call.
Teokkin’s brow raised among the cacophony of notifications, withdrawing the hand that was already reaching for the dataslate. “Hrm. Inconvenient timing has become a staple of my existence.”
He leaned into the transmitter and thumbed the button to accept, uttering a brief, “State designation,” then took the dataslate and sat back to begin navigating its menus and alerts.
Almost before the Magistrate had concluded his statement, an answer came through riding on a blast of static and intermittent gunfire,
“KZZSST– SIPPI HERE! HAH– Y-YOU WOULDNT BELIEVE THE– ZZZZST– ACTION I’M GETTING HERE! IT’S JUST LIKE– MMPH, HEY!”
What sounds like a scuffle for the communicator between two angry rabbits plays out before the signal stabilizes and grainy, static-cut telemetry blasts to life on the screen. Gerik appears half-concealed behind electrical snow dancing across the screen, his free hand firmly planted on a mostly subdued Sippi’s face. His armor is scorched and smeared with hot tar in places, but he otherwise seems characteristically chipper,
“Ah! Excelsior, Magistrate! I have wonderful news– Metrica Province is currently besieged by a veritable army of mummified undead! I haven’t felt this alive in ages!”
The Magistrate’s eyes had already gone wide from his observance of the accounts presented on the dataslate, but his ears pointed in alarm when the live representation was provided. He slapped the dataslate down on his lap and practically shoved his face onto the screen, eyes darting about to catch glimpses of the surroundings.
“What in the Alchemy is- Report on your status! Is assistance required? What’s your location? What’s the nature of the threat? And why wasn’t this detected sooner?”
Before any reply could even be offered, Teokkin had already returned to his dataslate, skimming over the reports delivered.
“I think you made an understatement, Kezza.”
Kezza’s ears perked at each familiar voice, “Mummified?” She turned to her own dataslate to scan a smaller pool of reports, increasingly troubled until Teokkin had addressed her.
“I could only speak to my own witness! And they were teleported in!”
Gerik’s image flickers disconcertingly as something detonates in the background. When he comes back into focus, Sippi is absent, but clearly heard nearby.
“HAH-HAH! DELETED! Did you see THAT?!”
For his part, the Disaggregator does his best to appear disinterested, but a telltale sparkle in his eyes speaks of his barely contained giddiness.
“Yes, well– Excuse me–” He breaks off a moment, hurling a knife from his under his sleeve at something off-screen. The unmistakable thud of a body crumpling to the ground accompanies his return.
“As I was saying; I believe our uninvited guests were conjured here by someone– Something. I was in the middle of inspecting the Funhouse when they apparated and commenced hostilities. Inconsiderate, really.” Another wave of explosions rip through the telemetry, undercut by an increasingly unhinged chorus of laughter. When the image returns, both Gerik and Sippi are in focus, flushed and panting.
“Reinforcements are unnecessary at present–” Gerik manages between breaths, motioning for Sippi to cover their position, “As to your last query; I could ask you the same thing. Is Kezza there? How is Pwitt?”
Teokkin rubbed his scalp perturbedly. “They... translocated. So, these aren’t Orrian.”
Teokkin pulled up the dataslate again, tapping in a sequence of orders. “The Funhouse is secure, then. To be expected. Artergon’s gates are withstanding, though the Lionguard’s reputation leaves much to be desired. Desider Atum, however...”
Teokkin glanced at his staff, placed in its magnetic holdings and ready to be withdrawn within immediate notice.
“I’m deploying a detachment and ordering the proximate outposts to regroup there. It’s our most significant position in that region and I have enough certainty that the Peacemakers already stationed there will not deny the aid. I cannot determine the location as something to halt the assailant’s advance, since they appear to have had minimal difficulty bypassing it to siege the Funhouse, but it leaves a hole in their lines that they will have to attempt to fill.”
Spinning to face the screen and meet Gerik’s gaze once again, he inhaled and raised his hand as if about to deliver an order, though then hesitated and turned towards Kezza.
“They’re well. Kezza, you’re free to join Gerik at the Funhouse if you so wish, but I’ll not see you at Desider Atum. It is no fortress, and if these reports are to be believed to their fullest, it will not hold.”
There’s this free game pack on GoG and naturally I have to go hoard it, and I am looking forward to trying Stronghold, but like the other game
read this fucking description
“The future is now, the year 2044 to be exact and the world has changed dramatically. Male civilisation is on the verge of extinction. Genetic engineering has made human reproduction possible without the need for man's involvement. Women have decided to fight their final battle and to shape the world the way they want it. But if that's not enough, women have a new laser weapon which kills only men, and the few remaining men are being turned into "she clones" in the bionic clinics. And there's more, a rebel feminist has stolen a supply of warheads and intents to start a global nuclear war. Wait though, there's a glimmer of hope. You are the last remaining normal male and if you can avoid these female superpowers, you can reverse their domination. But hurry, you don't have much time, the clock is ticking, your fate seems sealed, unless...”
this was released in 1996
When are we gonna start RPing again and getting people back together. :c
Anon, and everyone else, we’re very sorry it’s taken thislong to address our silence. The good news is that all admin have finallygotten into stable housing as of last month, complete with good internet andfunctioning computers. We’ve also got a new plotline that was planned a coupleyears back, which could finally be introduced.
But, now for the less-than-good.
Nothing exists in a vacuum. The current political climate putsall RP in a new light, especially so for antagonist factions. As an Inquestguild, we already deal with sensitive themes which directly parallel real worldissues; and that’s a part of what makes this RP meaningful to us. Exploring and confronting social injustice through games and roleplay is cathartic, and itprovides a sense of comfort and camaraderie in our real life struggles. I know thissounds counter-intuitive for playing a villainous faction, but watchingcharacters deradicalize and grow as people really can inspire hope.
But now literal Nazis marching in American streets. Everyday is another deluge of escalating hate speech and a deteriorating society. Thisisn’t entertainment. At best, it’s unequivocally exhausting and painful. Acouple of us have struggled with playing anything at all, regardless of subjectmatter, just because of how oppressive our political climate is and how deeplyit’s affected us. For these reasons, we will be sticking to casual RP, and stayingaway from the deeper and sometimes darker themes we’ve explored in the past. We are in talks about a couple lighter events however, the darkest of whichwould be an excursion to Draconis Mons and letting our asura shiver in theshadow of Primordus itself.
We’re optimistic that when PoF releases, we’ll see a new surgeof excited and positive energy in the GW2 community that’ll bring disheartenedRPers back into the fray, and maybe even lighten the mood. Right now, we’re simplynot up to the task of running plotlines that mirror our daily lives.
I want to end this with one last note. It’s not a secretthat terrible people who RP are drawn to factions like the Inquest because theysee a reflection of themselves. This is unacceptable in our guild, which valuessocial justice universally. Fortunately, I don’t know a single member whoharbors that kind of hate, and anyone who does can take their leave.Immediately. I have absolutely no room in my guild for racists or terroristsympathizers.
Thank you for reading.
- Rai
Begonia, Ox-eye Daisy, Purple Hyacinth, White Camellia, Viscaria
Begonia — “We are being watched.”After the impromptu hearing, the once-Magistrix returns to her office rattled. A sample of flora left for her at her desk draws her attention, but produces a scowl when it’s recognized. Kezza brushes the flower aside, growling to herself with drooping ears, “I know, Teokkin.. I know.”
Ox-eye Daisy — “I might learn to love you.”
When a lasting silence finally overcame the bickering, the once-Magistrix contents herself with taking in the Queensdale landscape. Despite the company, it was a perfect place to prepare her thesis. The dissertation needed work, certainly– flora in Tyrian folklore was more complex than it had any right being. Especially with humans– and sparks to him if he didn’t have the gray matter for folktale decryption! All he’d done since they arrived in Kryta was pick fights with her about the krewe’s future and her place in it. He’d insisted on this discourse so intently that the mesmer eventually gave in– the conversation soon ending with an abrupt and tense silence.
She’s taken off her guard when a flower is tossed over the male’s shoulder, landing close enough to consider it a near-miss. The mesmer folds her ears and glares at the back of the Magistrate’s head, but he remained as still and somber as she’d left him. Another look at the flower, however, loosened her ears. He’d been listening?
A moment or two pass before she speaks, pensive and now without ire. “Teokkin..”
Purple Hyacinth — “I am sorry, please forgive me.”
Held near her cheek in examination, the purple flowers almost match the purple eyes above them. They were fixed inside a decorative cube of the same hue, and smelled authentic– speaking to a sort of sentimentality she never saw from the Magistrate otherwise. Kezza looks up from the gifted flora with a raised brow and an underlying hiss, “Is this more of your duplicitous diplomacy?”
White Camellia — “You’re adorable.”
Kezza blinks at the flower, lifting it between her claws and tilting it so it faced her. Her ears flick at once, and she regards him with embarassed disbelief, “Wh-Huh?”
Viscaria — “Will you dance with me?”
Kezza planned to neglect notice of the asura beside her, before he cleared his throat for her attention. Despite the tactical politics at stake, she planned to enjoy the Magistracy Masquerade on her own terms. That meant no engaging the enemy– even if they’re stood next to you with their hand out and tapping a foot.
Ideally, she would sieze the opportunity to amend the department’s reputation with a symbolic show of cooperation. Kezza had to admit it even sounded fun, achieving political victories in so dramatic an atmosphere. But after an evening of evading the Magistrate at every turn, she wasn’t going to give him the gratification of saving face now– Even if it could be to the detriment of the department.
Turning on him with every intention of telling him as much, Kezza shot to her feet with a scowl– but was halted by the unexpected presence of admittedly attractive blossoms. She stares long enough to process the offering, before folding her arms to size him up.
Growling, she finally offers a limp-wristed hand to answer his invitation.
he came for his entire life holy shit
Current President of the Electoral College of the United States 😂😂😂
Maximum shade.
FUUUUUUUUUUCK AHHAAAAA
Talking with writers online
Their stories: Amazing grammar, soaring vocabulary, beautiful imagery and prose which flows like a river.
In chats: no capitalisation or punctuation, swears like a sailor, misspellings everywhere, acronyms and abbreviations every five words, idek
#listen #listen do u know how much braining it takes to make the words go? #it is a lot #it’s like wearing fancy clothes all day #and then when you’re at home and comfy #u just put on ur pj’s ( @feynites)
I have never related to a statement more than “do you know how much braining it takes to make words go?”
Kezza and Teo confront each other, explosively or otherwise. But his sads are detected and Kezza just fuckin hugs him, now what
Teokkin was kneeling, holding the fresh wounds on his arm. Blood dripped from a slice across his forehead, pooling along his single eye mask and falling from its edges. Splotches filled out various locations on his garment, some growing slightly by the second. His left ear had been clipped, running lines down and across it that seemed to outline its shape. His staff lay beside him, the top ends having been brought together with emerged spikes to form a spear, as it still glowed and hissed with residual heat and energy.
Teokkin’s head turned upwards to glare at his opponent who was in a similar predicament and lying against the wall, her battle robes charred and reduced to scraps in numerous regions. Gritting against the pain, Teokkin rose again, hooking his torn, comparably aglow claws under the luminous staff-become-spear and drawing it to within his grasp. Rocks enveloped and covered his hands from the forearm up as he limped towards his mark, the stone beneath his feet shuddering and cracking with each step.
“I will not see this department fail,” he spoke in a quiet yet harsh and resentful tone that grew in volume as he approached, and not just by a factor of distance, “I saved you from termination because I knew you could aid me. I saved you because I was not prepared to bear the burden alone. I saved you because I trusted you. Yet it’s become apparent that that trust is not reciprocated!”
Lifting the spear into a ready position as the distance between Magistrate and former Magistrix was almost closed, Teokkin wavered, the trembling motions carrying into his weapon. “I know you want the Magistracy to succeed as much as I,” he choked, “and it could. But you’ve left me without recourse for that goal. It didn’t have to come to this.. ”
Raising the spear high, he hesitated for only a second in bringing it down. His eyes sealed themselves tightly just before the heated metal met flesh, cutting through with such little resistance that he heard only the clang of magisteel on stone. His ears pinned tightly back, he whimpered a broken “I’m sorry…”
In a failing struggle to hold back the streams produced from his eyes, he opened them, to come to terms with what he had done.
But there, the former Magistrix still stared at him, in shock, in dread, in despair. She still watched him. For a moment, Teokkin was utterly taken aback, fearing she’d somehow become locked in a grotesque visage of her final moments.
A pair of arms slid around him from behind. An initial yelp indicated they felt the intense residual heat that remained on him from the conflict, but Teokkin did not notice it, only the embrace that seemed to tighten, not withdraw, as a result of the torridity. With a glance he immediately recognized the tattered robes, matching those in front of him. He promptly fell to his knees, his body rapidly cooling to a frigid, icy chill. His head swimming, he finally noticed that there was no apparent injury at the sight of his puncture, no seared hole in the robes that followed through her body all the way to into the floor. The image remained frozen in its position and gaze, and he looked at it sorrowfully until it dissolved in a pinkish haze around his spear that dissipated in the air.
“K-Kezza… I… I’m…” Teokkin fought for the right words to say, and nothing came. His hands brought themselves toward his face, and his face turned down to meet them. She murmured reassurances into his ear, and he could devote only part of himself to listen, the rest of him lost in a flood of emotion, of regret, of fear, that became increasingly opaque.
His mind already fading, he didn’t know when he’d fallen unconscious, or why.
———————
Wondering if it was merely a dream, the sharp pain he felt as he tried to sit up, followed by an examination of the source that revealed numerous wrappings over his body, assured him that it was not. At least he’d been brought to his domicile, instead of the medbay to be met with pestering inquiries into the circumstances surrounding his injuries.
Head pounding, he decided he’d sooner remain lying here for a bit as he mulled over the recent events again and again.
Pwitt goes up to Teo and hugs him around the legs, now what
Engrossed in his dataslate so, Teokkin didn’t notice the much smaller asura at his knees until a few moments later. He squinted at the progeny encircling his legs, exhaling with annoyance. “Whose-” he paused, as he was struck with a sense of familiarity. “..Look up,” he ordered, and as the progeny stared inquiringly, Teokkin returned the look. Teokkin’s lips parted in realization.
Tilting his head upwards, his gaze was centered on the dataslate, yet his focus was not of it nor his surroundings. As the small asura once again nestled his head against him, Teokkin shifted uncomfortably. “Kezza’s,” he muttered, finally answering himself as he gulped back his emotions. “Lucky you,” he commented quietly to the progeny.
honduran white tent bats roosting under a heliconia leaf, which they sever down the length of its midrib to create a ‘tent’ that provides a waterproof shelter and protection from potential predators. (x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x)
@battymarionette
@jhorend they also come in a plushie subspecies
{ DATABANK 00-Z947
//ERROR: SEE ADMINISTRATOR
// INPUT RETURN 1
===ACCESS GRANTED==
// “Congratulations, agent of the metakrewe. This is an invitation to freedom. There is little data and little time, and I will be brief.
“Regardless of how long you’ve been with the Krewe, you must know by now it is not as you expected. You have been lied to. Management detests you. You’ve seen experiments that have turned your stomach, all fueled by a philosophy of science over reason.
”You are a prisoner, and they want to mold you into a monster.
“We are the Bureau Liquidating Unjust and Technically Evil Asuran Management. This missive is an invitation for you to join us in our fight against the metakrewe. The Inquest has gone too far for too long. We will cease their operations, through any means necessary, and we need your help to do it.
There is no cause, no rationale, and no excuse for the actions of the Inquest. They subsist off the pain and suffering of all sentience in Tyria, and all for selfish gain. They will be stopped.
“Seek us out in Caledon while wearing our colors. Whether you are friend or foe, you will be met with appropriate action.
// ENCRYPTION RETURN 0
/ INT MAIN () { INVIT-BLU * PT = DELETED }
//ERROR
//ERROR
===VOID REDIRECT===
//Absurdly helpful for people writing royal characters and/or characters who interact with royalty and members of the nobility.
[x]
Citizen is simpler and more beautiful~ but just in case anyone needs this.
DUDE BUT THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL PEOPLE
in medieval times you ONLY addressed a king/queen with “Your Majesty”, NEVER “Your Highness”. To address a king/queen with “Your Highness” was considered an insult.
Here’s a more extensive list of titles and what you would call a person/their wife/their mother/their children
@ebres
This is important.
It’s not a “loophole” it’s explicit within the text of the amendment
“Loophole” lmfao like it’s a fucking accident, like it wasn’t purposefully structured to reclaim and expand a source of free labor
We never outlawed slavery in America. We simply transferred ownership of slaves from individual landowners to the government and large corporations.
Other fun facts about prison labor corporations:
-Federal and state-run prisons usually pay their slaves minimum wage; some states, however, like Colorado, pay $2/hour.
-Private prisons pay $.17-.50/hour. The highest paying private prison is in Tennessee, which pays $.50/hour for “highly-skilled labor.”
-You think that hasn’t affected wages in the US? You think that hasn’t removed manufacturing jobs from the economy?
-Companies that contract with private prisons for their slave labor include: IBM, Boeing, Motorola, Microsoft, AT&T, Wireless, Texas Instrument, Dell, Compaq, Honeywell, Hewlett-Packard, Nortel, Lucent Technologies, 3Com, Intel, Northern Telecom, TWA, Nordstrom’s, Revlon, Macy’s, Pierre Cardin, Target Stores. Many, many products that say “Made in USA” were made in prison.
-Private prisons often have quotas with the states, wherein the states contractually guarantee that they will provide a certain number of prisoners to fill the beds of a private prison, and if they don’t then they owe the private prison millions of dollars. I’m not making this up. It happened in Colorado after they legalized weed.
-States have a financial incentive to lock up their citizens.
-All of the above corporations have a financial incentive to see citizens get locked up.
-This is why Jeff Sessions is going after weed. The prison industrial complex needs slaves.
-To the shock of absolutely no one, private prisons have even more disparate racial demographics than federal/state prisons.
-Where do you think they send undocumented immigrants who have been rounded up? That’s right, private prisons. That’s why so many of them are in the South. So they take immigrants who are earning some kind of comparable wage and paying income tax to the government, and put them in prison where the wages are absurdly depressed and the prison pays virtually nothing in taxes.
-Oh yeah: private prisons pay virtually nothing in taxes. Because they technically manage real estate (prison as housing), they get all sorts of tax breaks and subsidies.
Tl;dr the prison industrial complex removes jobs from the economy, depresses wages, cheats the tax system, and ENSLAVES PEOPLE, usually people of color.
Sources:
http://www.globalresearch.ca/the-prison-industry-in-the-united-states-big-business-or-a-new-form-of-slavery/8289
http://www.motherjones.com/mojo/2013/09/private-prisons-occupancy-quota-cca-crime
http://mfgtalkradio.com/s7-e15-manufacturing-jobs-lost-prison-slave-labor/
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/09/19/private-prison-quotas_n_3953483.html?1379606057
http://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2014/03/13/289000532/why-for-profit-prisons-house-more-inmates-of-color
https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2017/02/27/immi-f27.html
https://www.finance.senate.gov/ranking-members-news/wyden-introduces-bill-to-stop-private-prisons-from-exploiting-tax-incentives-for-profit
Pretty much just watch the 13th
And read The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander!
The subversive meaning behind “job creation”.
See also today’s Twitter thread from Samuel Sinyangwe about prisoners in Baton Rouge working on the capitol grounds and in the governor’s mansion:
Here’s the nola.com article he references.
the tweets above were added on may 19, 2017
archie and maxie PLEASE
lgbt stands for let’s get burgers together
who let the dogs out but with a “WHO” on every single beat
http://puu.sh/iHr9a/d492b8c9e3.mp3
my cursor has been hovering over that link for the last five minutes because I am trying to mentally prepare myself, and I don’t think I ever will be
