>RED_Holiday pt7
The cables that held the Turbo sprite aloft from. the floor began to tighten, constricting the sprite like a myriad of snakes.
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>RED_Holiday pt7
The cables that held the Turbo sprite aloft from. the floor began to tighten, constricting the sprite like a myriad of snakes.
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0͑͒̅̽ͨͤ̋̽̅̃̔̓̀ͮ̓ͨͦ͠͏̧̫͇̰͇̜͚̘̭͉͚͎̣̰̗̘̪̫̀́1̛͒̈́̊͆̇͑̒ͪͩͨͮ͂͐͛̔̅̿̓̀҉̺̫̗̩̪͙͖͉̱͉͚̤̟̟ͅ0̶̶̧̧̮̱̦̻̥̭͓̱͕̙̤͓̯̲̦̰͔ͥ͋̈́̂ͮ̓͐̿̈́ͬ̀̚0̡͇̟̻͎̜̮̦̣ͬ̔̌͋ͤͨ͒ͩͧ̊͛ͣͫ̑̏̏̈́͂̀͢͟͝0͕̗̩̤͖̋ͣ̃ͪ̾̚̚͟0̷̷̴͍͚͙̝̪̣͎̙̱̘͉͖̂͂ͬͬ̌̄́͡ͅ1̛̻̺̪̟̠̞̲̩̭̫͕͈̬̒̂͊́̀̚͝ͅ1̧͈̜͕͈͋̾ͨͤͯͭͪ̌ͩ̎ͪ̾ͩ̒͒̒͗ ̢͍̙̳̥̜̯̯̤͈̫͕̫̮̣̗̗̓̆̅̄̓͒̓̏̇͌̏̈́̓̊ͭ̓̽́͘̕0̡̛͈͚͖͙̙̜̗̠̤̰̻͈͂̆̒ͫ̓͑͝1̸̜̬͙̳̜̮̹̘̮͉͕̥̹͍̃̃́͋ͣ̏͜ͅ0̶̶͚̹̱̼̜̣̲̤ͭ̄̓̄͒͋͋́ͩ̽̽̈́́ͪͯ̐͋ͭ̏͟0̌ͤͦ̀̔̓̽̏͏̛̛҉̞̭͎̜͔̬̱̺͎̗͕̦1̶̅ͭ͑͂ͥ̎ͧ͏̰̗͉̭̺̟͖̖̱̘͍̳̥͇̺1̵̶̙̳͕̩̗ͬ̌ͥͧ͆̑̑̊́͢͞͝1̛̭̠͕̘̤̼͍͇͇͙͈̙̝̣̬̍́͊̎̌͑ͨͬ͂̇͆̆ͯ̇͆ͦͣ͛ͅ1ͭ̆̏ͬ̓̏ͧ̅͒̊ͥ͂҉̧̧̛̹̮̗̯̦̩͈̗̹̘̜̬͈̬͙̥̀ ̨̪͕̲͎̞̫͕̜͈̦̪̪̖̿̀͑̎̿͆̈́̆̓̓ͥ̋ͪ̐̾ͤ͘͜0̶̞͇͚͎̝̺̩̖̮̬̓ͨ͊̽̉̔̀͘1̵̡͚͈̻͇̜̻̘̲͚̬̫̦̹̅̂̊̎̌̐͘͝0̇ͧ̃͊̓̃ͧ͆̆͛ͬ̈́͒ͯͣ̇͏͢͡҉̲̩͍̮̥͖͙̱̩̬͉̞̠͇̲̼0̢͔̱͇̖͙̤̬͈̘͕̹͍͔̩͍͍͈̠̥̓̅ͤ̋1̡́̃̇̈̂͑̓̄̚͞͡҉̬͖̰̻̯̙̯ͅ1͍̲̲͍̳̜̠̿͑ͣ̆̀̾ͥͪ͂̃͛̒͌̿̕͡0̵̧͍̙̯̟̳̜͎͙̿̿ͫ̓́ͣ̒̔ͭͭ̓͐̐ͬ̕͞1̴ͬ̽ͪ͆ͧ̄ͬ̇̒̽̓ͥ͑̏̎̂̎̈́͌͘͜҉͙̳͙̻̻̟̜̖̻͎ ͧ̃ͯͨ͑̀̈́ͨ͗ͩ́̍͋͋ͨ͡͝͏͔͕͍̱̼̬̪̫̯͉̕͞0̶̜̻͎̰͚͓̜͎͙͓̰͉̙͔̪̱̼͓͋̍ͤ͑̍ͩ̆͂ͥͭͥ͛̿͝ͅ1̧̝̫̦͖͔͔̼̫̈́ͥ̔́́̚͘ͅ0̵̷̢̨̺̙̜̮͚̦̰̲̥̤ͩͫ̄͗ͭͭͧͧ̿̄̚0̵̡̢̠͖̯͉̲̟͎͔͎͚̄͑̐̉͌̿ͩ͗͊ͬͭͫ̋͛̅̀͜1̷̧̜͖̘̭̰̼̘̲͎̳͇͈͚̯͚ͣͩ͆̈̔̈́͊ͮ̐̽ͤ̌ͮͬ̋̏̌̀ͬ͘ͅ1̴̯̳̮̥̱̞͈̖̍̌ͫ̆̄ͨ̋̿͆͊ͩ̓͑̂͒̅̓̚0ͥͬ̿̀̓͊҉͏̶̞̺̗̮͎̘̮̞̯͇̱͘͠1́̇ͨ̓ͦͩ̆̉͌̑̒̀͡͞͏͏̖͉͓̖̹͍̰͙ ̶͙̼͓̟̠̫̤̬̉̂͐͛͊̉̋͂͑͆͆͊̅̀̀͘͡ͅ0̓̑͗̑̄̂̃̅͏̢̭̞̖̩͔̦̫͈̻̤͝͞͡1̡͓̣̪̳̼͖͖̩̻̘͍͎̩̜͋ͥ̄̌̑ͨ͑̂̽͛͑̔̚͡ͅͅ0̈́̊͐ͧͣͨ͒͆ͧ̌̊ͣ͂̓̍͊͒̀͢͏̫̤̙̩̳̯̪̱̭̮̞͕̝̭̖͇̫̕1̡̨͇̟̝̗̓̄̆͛̽͐ͮ̉ͥ̆̃̐̀̈́͑̕0̷̧̧͓͍͉̰̗̦͕͎̳͙͔̫̩̻̘͉̈́͂ͪ͐̄ͫ̏͛̑ͮ̿̃̌̒͊ͦ͝1̛ͮͥ̇́̓̂̋̇̑͒̔̒̿̋҉̰̙̙̦̪͉̙̤͇͙̺̲̕͞0̔̐̊͌ͮ̃̀̓̎̆̿͛͗̂͑͏̛͏̡͉̻͕̰̳͎̳͍̭͎̬̼̹̻̯̻͜1̢̢̣͍̮̩̺͖̠͇̬͕͙̬̻̹ͭ̈́̀̋ͧ̔̄̏ͫ̉̓̔͆̔̓̐̿͞ ̵̸̖̫̩̳̫͇̯͖͇̮͖̦̞̟̆ͩ͆̄̔̃͆͋̒̿̈́͋̉ͪ̉̂͞ͅ0̢̧̛͈͙̪̹̻̘̐͛̂̀́͟1̸̴̢̲̱̜̮̬̝̠̹̪̮̱̺̮ͫͧ̔̎̔̿ͭ͛̒̽̎͞0̰̮̯̤͇ͩ̔̽́͜͜ͅ0̴̩͎͇̠̭̙̥͍̠̖͖̼̙̥͊ͤ̎̋́͛̊́ͣͪ̃̎̓ͯ͐͜1̩̦͚̫̮̥̻̫̠̓ͯ̑̐ͨ͌̆̽̀͢͝1̸̘̼̙̥̳̠̪̠̲̙͎̖̆̈́́̓̕͢1̶̡̎́̅ͨͬ̆ͫ̃̑̅̽͛̍ͪ̉ͣ͞͏͖̥͚̮̣͉̘͕̤͇0̧̖͓͙̠͉̼̥͕̙̖͚̖̝̠̊̇̔̇̔̽ͣ̔̆ͯͣ̇́͢ ̨̢̭̲̖̺̩̤̠͚̍̓̈́ͨͤ̇ͯ̃ͨ́͢0͎̣͚͔̼̪̣̝͓̹͙̱͔̻̮̇͂̏̀ͤ̓̄̊͌͊̎͌̆̐͌̀͞1̬̥̬̗̞͖͇̺̯̐̈́̅ͬ̀͜0̷̜̼͎̞͙̬͈̝̘̼͎͚̞̗͚̓͆̔̑̑ͦ̅̏́̓̚͡0̷̸̥̖͇̼̟̖̮̟̩͐ͫͭ̿ͣ͂1̢̲̣͉̲͔̭̟̤̠͙͉͇̜̣͓͚ͥͪ̂͂͋̌̔̇́̚͞0̡̡̫̱͉̣̣͖̬̜͖͍̄̉̓̈́̃̌̏͗̓̌͊̅͂̈ͮ̄͛ͫ́͞ͅ0̡͇̘̠̟̤̠̜͚̻̺̠̇͆̓ͣͩ͑ͪͪ͐̌ͣ̄̽̑̚ͅͅ1̸̷̞͓̥̖̖̣͙ͬ̂ͬ͊͂ͭ̅̾̔͗͊ͭ̚͢͝ ̵̨͔͚̜̻͉̞̄̓͊ͧͪ͆͋ͥ̓ͨ͊ͧ͛̊̏͌ͣ͊0͉͚̯͙̺̳̜͕͎͙̗̙̖ͪͧ̓ͧ̐̾̈́̾̆ͫͯ̃͘͢1̵͔̮̝͓͔̱̳ͫ̂̋ͥͫ͌̊͋̎̏̄ͬ͢ͅ0̢̧͓̥̫̠͓̯̠̠ͥͭ͂̆͛͋̿̔̐͋̑̉͗ͦ̀̒͋̚̕͘͝0̢̛͓͍͇̻̬̪̳̰̻̟̬̘̞͇̗̰ͣ̀ͨͥ̎̾̾̉ͭ̾ͫ͛͊̂̀̀͜0̵̗̤͇̺̟͕̝̝͎̖̮͚̩̈́ͮͣͮ̆ͥ̇ͦ̋̒̇̍́̚͟͟͠ͅ0̷̧͍̻̠͓̤͎̱͎͎͈͙͚͎̣ͪ͑̆̔̅͛ͨ̀̄̈̾͛̚1̵̸̡̡̞͇͇̞̮̲̱̞̻ͮ͋̓͌ͪͬ̓͂̓͌͊ͫͫͩͅ1̧͛̍͌̄̋ͧ̏͗ͤ̏̅ͪ͒͗͝͝͏͈̫̣̱̼́ ̷̧̭̘̫̳̗̰̠̲̟̬͇̞̬̺́͆͊̓̈ͥͧͮ̎̈̄ͮ͊ͦ͗̾ͯ0̷̵̗̗̩̬̬̪̫̟̹͙̙͎̦̐ͯ͗͗̒̓̐ͣ͑ͤ̈̾̄́͑͑ͯͬ̕͢͜1̷̢̛͎̞̘̬̣͚̻͖͖͓̰͒̈ͧ̂̔̌̈́͌ͥ̕͡0̵̯̮̠͈̫͓̩͎͎̲̘̲͕͙͎͍̠̜̿̒̈͊͗̆̊͒̊̀͝0̵̴̺͉̭̪̩̠͕͓̲͚̬̪͙̹̻̮̟̐̉ͬ̆0̙̠͚̭̅ͯͪ͂̀̀́̚͠0̷̢̡̝̮̥̻̮̖͈̣̭͕ͥ̾̀ͩͣ̆̋͗̽̀ͥ̆̄̔̓͂ͪ̑͡0̷̫̥͎̭̭̟̫̣͚͙͓̤͓̤̫͍͚̐͋̆̐ͪ̽̉͗ͦ̇͌̎̍ͫ̑̏̀͊1͍̫̬͎̬̟͍̯̂̆͒ͫͦ̄ͩ̏ͦ͟͠͝͡ ̵̡͙̟̤̠̬̱̳̩͎̺͚̹̞̉́ͥ͑ͣ̂̐ͥ͐̔̈̓́͘͡ͅͅ0̸̶̸̬͍̞͉͎̠̹̳̮̲̰̫͇̗̫̘̖̾ͬ̽̐ͩ̇͋͜͞1̶̨̧̺͍̹̜̤̝̝͚͇̘̹̳͚̩̞͇͖̔̎̒͑̊̈́̈́̿ͥ̒͆ͮͭ͗ͧͩ̒ͅ0̷̱̮̤̯̥͔͇̝͉͂̈̄́̊̂̑̓͐ͭ͌͊̽ͤ͝1̶̸̧̝̫͈͍̪̻̺̥̥̘̼̠̬͙̣͛̎̍͒̈̓̋ͫ͛̓̓͗0̓̊ͤͭ̉͒́ͪͦ̔̌ͥ́͘͟҉̩̱̤̺̹̞̪̤̫̮͚̘͙̥͎1͂̎ͭ̋͗ͣ̓̀͏͏̛͇̭̩̬̥̺̲̞̖̳̯̮͓̥̠͔͘0̵̸̡̺̰̱̳̣͈͎̜̝̭̤ͥ͛ͣ͊͌̚ͅͅͅͅ0̹͙̤̪̰̯̙̲͇͇͕̹͖̮̘̇ͭ̇͆͛ͯ̂ͭ̂̆̀̀ ͩͬͪ͆ͪ̐́̑͊̔͋ͫ͊҉̨͖̺͓̮͚̱̞̯̺̦̟͔͜͞0̷̶͖͔̼͈͍̞̹̻̤̺͖̮̩̰̔͆̇̀ͧ̃1͖̬̖̠̝̘̗̰̠͍͎̘͕͖̫͈̠̳̖͌͌̾̐͂̓̏ͬ͌̈́̎̊ͯ̐̓͠͡0̷̡̥̫̮͚͇͓͎̤̯͈̣̗̱͉ͩ̏̌͒̊ͬͮ̑̽̉ͪ͒ͮ̀͟0̸̹̙̱̪̼͇̳̻͓̫̙̞͋̊̋̈̏̽̽ͨ͋̊͗ͨ͋̿̈́̍́͢͞1̟̼̥̱̞̳̦̘̘̹͙̫͕̯̐ͣ͐̇͆ͨ͒ͧ͒ͣ͘͡0̜̝̗̝ͭ͑ͥͬͥͫ̓̌͡͝͡0̗̲͕̬̰̮̻̖ͣ͐ͪ̎͛̃ͪ́̂̓͟͢1̡̖͈̩̰̘͙̜̰͈̯̦̻̙̙̯͌̏ͯ̄̈ͫͩͭ̈́̋̈́ͭͤͨͦ̉̑͂͟ ̛̼̹̱̙̤̩͕͉̘̜̱͕̭̲͈͖͈̹͊̌̂̃͒̏ͧ̄̇̋̅̿̚͢0̷̷͔͖̙̟̯̫̞̬̼̰̫͉̲̥̏̊ͥ͗̓̄̔̊̔͛̾̌̃ͣ̎ͨ̀͠ͅ1̙̞̠͇̪̏̇͂ͪ̌͂͑̐̆͒̉ͫ́0̧̛̦͖͎͉̬̥̫̣̹̻̮͈̩̜̥̟̓̄͂͑ͅ0̄ͤ͐̏̂̄͠͝҉̨͙̤̮̣͈͔̪̪͓͚̣͕̰1̛̯͕̝͇̙̞̞͕̱̻͉̙̝͉̱̄̊ͮͩ̑͐̇ͧ͡ͅ1̵̷̢̨̧̻̰͈̮̳̲̭̼̫̬͕̣͇͍̝̺̽̂͗ͣ͑̓̀̈̈͆̐1͈̰͓̝̹̱͇̗̊̍ͯ̆̄̃̐̏̀̚̕͜1ͨ̅́͛̓̋͗̐́̅̎ͩͪ͋ͭ͡҉͈̹͔̦̪ͅ ̸ͨͥ͗̽́̈́̆̈́ͦ͌҉̵̧͈͍͓̤̺͉͙̳͚̤͡0̸̴̢͉͙̝̺̯̗͇̣͉̝̫̳̜̒̿̍̍ͤ̈̑̈́̊1̢̨͈̦̩̘̞̥̞̭͕͙̠ͮ̈ͩͣ̆ͭ̃͗̈͡ͅ0̨̎̇ͨͬ͂̂͊̔͗̑͑̑̕͞͏̼̭̙̝̤0̛̭͚͓̩̗̭̲̯̰̼͇͓ͣ̓ͣ̓ͯ͒ͧ͒͐ͅͅ1̶̸̴͉̪͚̺̩̥̹̻͈̥̜̰̬̳͍ͫ̇͗͐̊͠1̸͈̪̖̘͙̺̗̻̬͖͇͈̳̗͚̊ͦ̈́̈̈̈́̿̇̓͊̓̿̌͠͞ͅ1̸̙̟̙͉̳͉̲̼̖̰͖̩̤͎̼̍̾̽̌ͫ̅͛͜͡͝͠0̴̸̮̗̬͈̮̰̲̠̞̒ͭ͂̌̓ͭ͋ͤ̾̊͘ ̸̸̡͖̘̘̩̫̙̩͇̜̃̉̂͋͆̊ͤ̑̈̔̽̈́̇ͯ͜͝0̈ͯ̂ͫ̚̕̕͠҉̝̮̼̟͎̭̹̗̰͘0̧̡̰̤̖͓͙̺͍̗͈̪̟̩̗͎̺ͦͯ̆ͧͩ̈́̍̉̾ͧ̇̂̎ͥ͛ͬ̊̀̕͞1̸͒͋̎͊͑ͨ̂̔ͩ͆̌̕҉̥̫͕̩̭͔̮͟͠0̶̸͈̱͚͊͆͌ͧ̇̒̀0̛̮̭̟͓͈͓̖̗̬͓̆̿̚̕0̷̢̨͈̜̱̝̭̗̺̫͍̬̪̳ͤ͌ͧ̉́̆̂ͮ̂̋̿̄ͣͭ̈́͊̄͝͡0̨͖͙̣̩̮̯̳̠̣̮̳͙̼̋̈́̒̇͊̚͘͢͡͠0̷̡̘̖̥͈̞̼̮̰͎̭̫̺͔̝̋̊͐ͫ͆ͫ̀͌́̆͗͜͢͠ ̛̝̭̯͈͖̖͓̦̪̝͒̃̍͐͟0̃ͤ̏̽ͪ̍ͪ̉͐̏ͧ͊̐̎̒͒҉̵̸͔̻̠̳̜̬̥̲̘̱̳̘͙͘1̴̹̼̖̹̱̘ͤ̌ͧ̑ͦ̃̂̋ͪ̎̇̃ͨ̀̋ͥ̀͞ͅ0̛̭̤̥͓̟͚͕̠̰͎͔͙͉̖̟͔̫̓ͪ̍͑͢͜͝ͅͅ0̻̲͈̝͖̜̖̼͓̱͖̯͖͈̅̏͌ͤ̉͊̍̾̃̓ͪ̉̅̾͡0̧̛̹̪̗̞̺̞͇̻̼̝͔͍̤͍̖ͯ̉ͬͨ͂̓̃̚0̸̡͉̻̰̻͕̳̠̻̰͈̥̟̫̟̫͙̱͓͐͒̀ͮͭͤ́ͩ̈̓̌̈́͛̽̊̾ͦ̀1̤̙͙͈̦͓͉͖͎̹͐ͣ̿̍͒̐̽̄̑̿͗͌ͪ͐̅̊̚̕͢͝1̹̱̞̞̯͎͇͖͔̺̖̰̘͓̰̘ͯ̾ͬ̀͡ ͥͮ̋͛̇̈̍҉̷̭̣̼̻̹́̕0̵̀̈́͐̊̏̀̿͏̢̧̹͓̜̺̗̪̣͕͓̘̀ͅ1̸̛͎̦͓̜̙̰͛̾̉̉̐͋͛ͩͧ̑ͮ͋͝0̶̶͕̗̩̪̭͎̲̭̘̤̫̹ͧ̊͗̀ͪ̈́ͥ̇͛ͥ͐͑͝͡͝ͅ0̶̡̧̨͇̖̤͔̲̟͎̻͕̦͈̍͐̀̏͗̓̿ͭ̋͋͌̊͋ͥ͗ͮ̊1̡̥͎̪͔̲̻̘̫̜͔̳̜̅ͣ̈́͂̍͠1̭̥̹̺̯̀̾̌͗̌̎͂̑́͂͘͘̕͡1̥͙̟͙̹̭̮͖̹͕̣͚͕̤̞͍ͫͫ̓ͩͪ̔̀͝1̨ͧ̓̑͗̽̓ͧ͘̕҉̤̖̮̯̺͓͈͇̲̩̱̲ ̧̻͉̝̰̮̙̰̻ͥͭͣ̆͊̄͊͘0̡̥̥̯̺̝̘͕̼̪͙̲͋͒͊ͮͧ̑̊̾̃͂͊ͮ͌͐ͬ̆̿͟ͅͅ1̌̈́̂͗ͧͮ̒͆̔̄̎͑́̈ͩͭ̄͠҉̨͍̩͕̼̲͉͚̫͇͍̟̮̕͟0̫͕͙̠͇͉̦͖̬̺̩̙̬͚̹̲̺̅ͨͯ̀̽ͫ͛͌̓̔̾ͪ̊̑̄̾́͝ͅͅ0ͨ̋̄͌͏̶̢͇̥͚͇͖͓̩͚̳͖̬̺̭͉͖1͙̖̮͔̮̲̹̩̦̘͉̹̹̟̹̠̲ͫ͛ͤ͂̀̑ͦ͌̾͘͟͜ͅ1̡͔̠̩̒ͪ͗̽̃̎ͭ́͐̏̃̃̋ͣ̑̕͡͡0̢̨̧͈̹̼̠͙̓͐͌͗ͫ̓ͤ̓ͭ͌̾͂̓ͯ̐̄ͪ͞1̷̶̛̰̱͙̫̰̐ͬͬ̄ͭͪ̇̔̈́͑͊ͯ̐̀ ̴͉̻͇͇̝̠̯̰͈̣͖̤̳̖̝͈̺̆̑͂̂͐̊̃͑͊͂̽̆͗̍́̔̒ͧ̄͡͝0̽̅ͮ͋͐͗̓͏̦͔̹͉̠̝̪͖͔̼͔̬̯͉̕1̴̧͙͓̞̭̞̫͕̫͔̘̘͉̮͚̜͕͈ͤ́̾ͫ̊ͣͩ͐́ͪ̃ͯ̑̈́ͣͣ̀̉ͭ̕͢͠ͅͅ0̷̛̯͔̩̮̺̣͉͎͉̱̣̞͍͚͔̯̘̜͋̉̓̉̋̒͊̄̄ͪ̿̇̈̾̈̿̈́̀͠1̡̧ͫ̒͌͊͂͋͑̓͊͊́͏̢̯͓͈̙̱͇̝̲͙̝̤̠̤̯ͅ0̶̨̩͇͉͖̦̥͉͎̲̫̫͕̠̜̮̗ͪͣ̄͡ͅ0̢͓̖̤̥̭͉̪͇̞͎̮̳̼̉̐ͥͫ̕͜͜ͅ0̢̞̗͓̼̝̖̣̻̪͚̯͓̔͐ͩͥ̃̂͛̉́̔͆̏͞0̶̸̸̢̨̣̳̥̫̫̱͍̟̞͎̩͍̺̯͚͕͂̍̈̉̓̂̔͒ͦ̓͋̑ͅͅ ̷̝̖̮͖̱̤͎͈̫̤̺̲̳̝ͣ́ͭͤ͂͋ͬ̔ͬͩ̽ͯ̉̏̃͝0̷̨̨̧̫̗̭̰͓̯͕̱̙͇̪̮̬̪͓̥̜ͤ̓͋͊̾͒̈́ͦͤ̽̉̐̿͢ͅ1̡̞̹̥̹̲̻̗̲̗̳͉̦͕̹̠̳̳̣̓ͮ̏̿͛̈͋̉̀͑̽ͪͨͭͭ͛̔ͦ͟͟͝0̸͖̟͖̞̬͍̰̜̦̹̍̌ͦ͑͑ͮ̿ͣ͛ͨ̂͡͠͠1̸̛͊͗ͫͩ̀̚͏҉͉̹̝̣͕͈̣͓͉̺̺̹̭0̶̡̱̼͓̼̯̱͎̮̐̑̀̅̇͆̿ͮ͒͟͜0̢̧ͪͮ̈́̋ͣ̇͒̓̏҉͉͎͉̟ͅ1̢̭̝͈͍͈̩̠͔̖́̾ͩ͋̈́ͩ̑́̚͘͘0̷̧͚̳͎̟̫̫̱̞̮̞̮͍̫̊̀͐ͨͥ͂̄̌͒ͭ͆͢͠ͅͅ ̢̘͕̠̝̤ͪͪ̎̈́̈ͣ̃ͪ̎̀̚͢͟͡ͅ0̸͛ͥͯ̏̽͊̑̊̍̓̿͑͒̃͐̐̔͒͘͢͜҉͓̫̤̲̬1͛ͣͣ͆̓̓ͫ҉̵̵̢̖͈͖̳̲̹͚̹̟͖͚̠̲̼ͅ0̨̢͓̟̝̺͙͎̐̋̇͐̾͌͢0̪̘̗̻̰̬̘̱͚̙̭͈̰̥̞̆́̏͐ͬͦ̓̀̚͜ͅ1̢̢̪̩̖̰̘̬̗͖̗̯̜̍̑ͪ͊͋́ͦ̐͂̇ͬ̚ͅ1̛ͩ͋ͦ͆́̾̆ͩͩ͒̄͟҉͚̝͚̺̮̲1̨̩̙̤̼̻̓ͫ̈ͫ̃̎ͯ̔̋̔̌̍͋͊̍̌1͂̆ͭ̂͋̑̋̍̊̑͑̚͝҉̭̥̤͔̫͕̜̪̗̥͎̺̟̖̝͓̹̮̕͡ ̢͍̯͓̲͎̉̓ͬͣ͑̓̋̈̊ͫ̾͋̓̾̕0̵̭͚̮͈̼͕͉̗͖̱̬͚̳̖̹͙ͮ͗͒̎͂̀́ͪ̒̎̆͛̏́̚͘͜ͅ1̵̨̥̱̤̮̘̣̼͔͓̤̣̮̗̦̪̳͔͔̔͆̽͑̍ͪ̊͘͝0̜̹̖̫̫̪͚͔̙̳̦͌͂̿̍̎̆̒͊̈̒͂͑͗̎̃ͨͥ̃́̀0̶̶̶̡̮̲̣̪̆͌͗̍ͫ̉́1̨̦̰͚̠͖͚͔̲̖͑̂͒̂͛̌̂ͦ̚͡1̴̢̟̰͚͍̫̰̟̦̝̰̜̥͎̮͉͕͙̜̑ͣͧ̓̂́̕͟0̶̹̭̤̩̘̯̥͎͔͍̗̱̗ͩ͌ͥͤ̓̉͗ͫͩ͒̔͗̅͗ͦ̃ͬ͘͜ͅ1ͩ̽͗ͫͦ̎ͩ̍̿͏̨̟͈͎͉̪̭̬̝͙̕͟ ̷̨̧͈͈̟̭͇͔̱͍̠̃̂ͮ͋ͣ̌͐ͦ͆̀ͫ͐̐̚̕ͅ0̶̓ͨ͗҉̨̭͎̥̖̞͓̫͙̳̘̰͖͙̻̼̼̻1̈̒̉ͭ͊̀̍͊͋ͣ͜҉͚̟͕͎̬̦̀͘͠0̸͚̬̺̳̣͚̪͕͖̲͍̗̠͙͇̿̿ͥͭ̎̔̑̏̾ͭ͊ͭ̆ͥ̌̇̓͘͟͝ͅͅ0̨̙͕̣̣̰̞̯͓̯̥͓̱͎̖̻̤̳͕ͮ́̂͑́̕͟͠1̶̢̟̫͔̗͇̮̥̹̭͎̗̮͚͖̾̇́͛̏̓̈́̌͂̀͡0̯̺͙͖͈ͥͨͥ̆͡0͎̲̲̣͍̯̜͙̹̲̩ͭ̒́̔ͬͧ̾̍͊̇ͬ̉̄͜͡ͅͅͅ1̴̷̧̰͚̲̮͈̤̏̐͊ͧ̊̾̓͛̚ ̧̭̘̭͈̥͎ͯ͒̐̃̚͜͠0̶̠̼̳̦̮̥̳̫̻̻̞͎̘̤͚ͩ̌̐͐͝1̶̢̙̦͚̹̜̬̠̻̱̬̰̹͖̟̮̥͗̊̄̾ͦͨ̂ͪͧͩͤ̇̎̎̅̇̑͘0̷̸̲͙͓̭͎͕̟̤̯͓̺̟ͯ̃ͦ̈͆͐ͬ̿͛̓̄ͨ̓1̴͇͈̠̹̐͂̓̉̓ͬ͐̒̋̅̈́ͪ̅́͝0̴̵̨̙͎̰̳̻̗͇̙͓̮̥̙̠̫̲̱̀ͩͦ̔ͩ̉̓̆̈̀́0̛̪̣̤̜͙̗͍̥̹̣͙͚̹̽̾̂ͥ̃̈ͥͮͪ͒͆͑ͧ̒͆͐́̀͢1̡̧̛͔̘̭̫̻͚̮̘͔̝͕̻͐̈́̐̎̔̂ͯ̇̓ͦͪ͡1̨̮̙͍̻͔̹͉̪͊ͧ͋̌ͦ͐̽̓̈̇ͥ̀̉͛͞ ͈̫̥̺͎̪̞̫̪͈̹̜͋ͤ̌ͤͣ́͞͡ͅ0͂̋͊ͩ̿̏̏ͭͥ̉͗̓͆̓͗ͩ͋̍͏̵̼̳̩̱̣̀1̷̰̰̯̗̈̆ͫ̎̕͟0͒ͮ͋̋ͭ͗ͮ̐͗̓ͫ́̋̒̚͏̷̝͚͕͚͞0̷̸̮͈̼̹͓̯͙ͦ̈̑̈̊̓̍ͦ̇͗̏̄ͬ0̶̨̛̭̗̜̘̓̽ͮ̈̇̌͆̉̋1̸̬̜͕̪̲̬ͪͭ͋̀ͨ͐ͪͨͪͨ̍̐͐̒͋̕͟͞0̵̧̨̛̈́̔ͪͬ̓̓̆ͫ̽͑ͧͣ̈́ͥ̊͏̰̹̩̼̫̟1͓̖͎̲̳̖̥̙͓̰͎͔̲͇ͩ̌̃ͨ̐̚͜͡ ̎͋̅̾ͥ̆̊͂ͪ̚̕͏̨̝̪̘̭̜͔̤̪̞͝0̛̛̳͎̣̳̘̊̆͌͂̍̀1̡̛͔̖̗̩̫͎̦̪̇̆͐ͣ̌̄̾ͧ̇ͦ̅̂ͯ͐ͮ͑͆̿̕͟͞ͅ0̶ͣ̒ͯͮ̊̌ͫͤ͗̽́ͯ͊͂҉̭͕̳̹̩͈̤0̡̥̩̻̰̪̤̥̲̞̤̻̝͕̣̃̿̒ͧ̓ͥ̉̿̚͞0̵̵̾̆͂͐͂́́ͮ́̎̊͠͏͙͉͚̲͉̼͚̣̰͘1̵̳̫͖̞̺̱̞̰̩̤͉͎ͨ̃̓̈͐̉ͣ́͊ͪ̒̇͗ͣ͊ͪ̀̕͟͞0̶̫̯̪̣̼̮̖̭̲̜̯͓̘͚̞̗̐̈́̏̍͊̿͜0̴̨̲̲̪͇̞̩͍̳̼̱͍̆͂͑͂̒̈̔ͫ͂̉ͭ͟͜ ̜͙̮̦̭͓̼̼̪͇̻͍̲̼͎́̍ͬͭ͌̄̔ͬͨͣ͒́͝0̡̖̖͚̫̮̮̩̥̟̱͚̦̪̹̳͕̤͍̽̀̃͛̓ͩͭͫ́͜͞0̨̠̞̤͔̪̬͎̗͎̇̍̏̄̋͗ͫ̈́͒̐̓ͧ̿ͮ͛̚͞1̶̊͑̊ͧ҉͈̖̪̤̤̦̗̫͔̘̖͟0̸̯̞̤͙̲̺̳̖̼̦̙͚̿̂ͪͨͯ̄̒0̴̶̋͋̃̈͑ͫ̌̈́͟҉̶̣̩̭̖̘̘̺͓͍̗͉̙0̢̛͕̘̭̼̞̬͓ͬ͆ͫ͐͜ͅ0͍̼͖̥̭̯̙̞̔̉̈́͛͆͂ͭͮ͑́͆͆͞͝͞1ͨͤ̎ͬͭ̂ͪ̆̂̂͏̷̢̧̮͎͈̙̼̙̖̻̠͚͉͞ͅ ̅̇̽̉ͤͣ̍ͪ͊ͬ̇ͨ̾ͭ̽̏ͭ͡҉̮̲͈̦̺͓̦̫̜̱̥͚͈̠͟0̫̻̬͙͌̀̍͐̏ͧͩͮ͟͠ͅ0̵̨̨̞͇͉̭̯̣̿͐̃̒ͫ̿͜͟1̧̙̗̖̙͎̮̯̻̜̬̯̪̤̱̳̓̆̒ͯ̐̋͛ͭ̉͑̇͋̾ͫ̅̀͐́͢0̡̡̢͈͇̘̬̼̺͇̻͔̭͈̑́́̍̀͆̓0̛̳̝̣̻̼͓̼͕̖̻̘̺̝͈̙̫̔ͮͮͪͤ̍͒͗ͪ̎͂̓͊̋̆͘͠͠0̵̧̭̳̭̩͕̘̩͍̹̫̬̻͓̙̙͙͎̭͂͗̊ͮͯ̿̐ͭ̿̔̄́́́͞0̶̎̓̀̏̆͒ͥͮ̏ͥͥ̚͏̛̝̖̪̘͍̬̮̲̺̹̗ͅ1̴͕̭̦̤̼̮̹̭͙͇̯̝͈̱̣̞͙̬̗̓̐ͬ̋ͧͦ̅ͤ͜͢͡͡ ̶̧̫̪̺̯̮̥̰͚̜̩̬͑̒ͪ̍̋́̀̓ +
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+ 01001001 00100000 01101010 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110111 01100001 01101110 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100111 01101111 00100000 01101000 01101111 01101101 01100101 00101110 00101110 00101110 00100000 +
>RED_Holiday pt6
“Look I know it’s bad. yell at me about trust some more , go ahead. I don’t care.” Rig spat, clenching his fists as he turned around to face the green sprite.
“But did I do it? Of course I didn-! Gage?” Rig dropped his fists when he realized Gage was crying, something no one had ever seen, hell he wasn’t even sure until now if it was possible!
“Gage... what?”
“It’s my fault...It’s all my fault...I let it in.”
Reblog if you RP using Discord
Message me if you’d like my username.
>RED_Holiday pt5
It was cold, dark, and filled with the deafening hum of silence in a large empty space.
Radio slowly woke, trying hard to focus his eyes as the stinging pain in his stomach reminded him of everything.
He coughed, red flecks of code spattered the floor in front of him a he tried to push himself up. Once he was up on his knees he realized that hooked to the back of his neck was a large cable, the cord disappeared up in the dark abyss of cables and boxes. He couldn’t pull it out and he couldn’t see what it was attached to.
thevasthost:
Another jolt of fear rushes through Ghost and he lunges forward to tackle the drone away from the helmet. He lets out an enraged roar as he slams the insect into the alley wall.
“Byrd,” he calls again, turning to pick up the helmet with little Byrd inside, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
The tiny Hybrid wailed grabbing for his father as he cried.
The drones, registering an attack turned in unison towards Ghost and the swarm erupted with a deafening shriek. they began to pour in, snapping and jabbing with sharp limbs in an attempt to overwhelm the attacker.
lemonradios:
Byrd had curled himself up in a ball, hiding inside Radio’s helmet as large insectoid drones began crawling out of the crack in the ally wall. Filling the space with chittering and the buzzing hum of many layered wings they poured out, consuming everything like an evil flood of caterpillars.
Byrd tried to keep himself quiet, holding both hands over his mouth to muffle his sobs.
Distantly he could hear his other parent’s call but he didn’t want to see more of his family hurt, so he kept quiet.
Ghost bristles at the swarm, his lips pulling back in a snarl. He instinctively holds out his arm, swathing the twins in a protective purple goo-bubble.
“You two stay here, I have to find Byrd.” The twins nod in understanding and Ghost turns to wade through the mess of drones, continuing to call for Byrd. He glimpses a flash of yellow between the swarming mass and heads in that direction.
As Ghost waded through the swarm they ignored him for the most part, but if he stepped in the path of their munching he'd surely be bitten.
It wasn't long before the dumpster that had been blocking Byrd from view was gone and he could feel teeth against the helmet he was hiding in. "PABAAAHS!" The tiny hybrid screamed out as he held tight to the lining of the helmet, the protective gear actually held up in the drone's jaws but who could say for how long that would last.
>RED_Holiday pt4
Rig paced, feeling uneasy as Radio was never one to be late much less without notice.
“I’m going to go see what the hold up is.”
Rig grabbed up a scarf and headed out before anyone else had even gotten up.
about halfway to the apartment Rig was stopped, a large white beast.
It was Erasure.
“YOU HAVE FAILED, RIG!” The king boomed, bearing his teeth as he reared his head back.
“What? what are you talking about?” Rig yelped, putting his hands up.
“The RED has the key! it will soon be fully restored and your world ended!” Erasure hissed.
“WHAT? HOW?” Rig was confused, everything was fine, he had fought so hard to keep the RED at bay.
“The Key was left alone and the moment of weakness seized, how could you be so foolish? This is no mere Virus, this is a destruction without order, without consciousness or motivation. It cannot be reasoned with and it will not hear pleas of mercy. This monster has no core and it has only one purpose; to end the world we know and cripple the human world outside it.” The faceless beast actually sounded as though he felt fear for the first time.
“Now, because of your carelessness it will awaken fully and there will be no stopping it.” Erasure rumbled deeply as he turned away.
“What are you going to do?” Rig asked, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
The beast paused, whatever rage and fight Rig had expected was replaced by the calm, and quiet tone of resignation.
“All I can to prolong the life of those I value.”
The white beast slowly melted away to fortify his home, leaving Rig to wonder if anything could be done to change this terrible end that was unfolding. he bit back broken sobs and catching breaths as he ran his hands through his hair and tugged back on his ears.
“You were supposed to kill Radio… weren’t you?” The voice from behind him was small, soft, and uncharacteristic of its owner.
“Gage?” Rig turned to see the green racer standing there with a heavy glitch breaking the silhouette of his face, it stemmed from his patched eye and pulled outward.
“What are you doing out here?” Rig asked, rubbing his nose on his sleeve.
“Answer me, Rig!” Gage demanded.
“Yes…”
Ghost is sitting at home with Fantom and Specter, idly watching them play, when the unease begins to set in. It starts with a bad thought and quickly snowballs into full blow anxiety. Then it hits him, like a jolt of electricity; Something is very wrong.
Ghost could feel Byrd’s distress and, in all honesty, it scared him stupid. He hushes the younger two, trying to tap more into Byrd’s senses, wanting answers. Unfortunately he couldn’t find more beyond utter panic.
“Specter, Fantom, we have to go,” Ghost states firmly as the kids settle down from their playing. They could tell something was off too. The virus hurries the little ones out the front door and rushes, as much as he can with the little ones in tow, to Byrd’s location.
“Byrd,” he calls frantically for his first-born as he searches the terminal. Generally, he’d be able to pin-point exactly where his offspring were, but panic clouded his mind.
Byrd had curled himself up in a ball, hiding inside Radio's helmet as large insectoid drones began crawling out of the crack in the alley wall. Filling the space with chittering and the buzzing hum of many layered wings they poured out, consuming everything like an evil flood of caterpillars.
Byrd tried to keep himself quiet, holding both hands over his mouth to muffle his sobs.
Distantly he could hear his other parent's call but he didn't want to see more of his family hurt, so he kept quiet.
>RED_Holiday pt3
It was then the crack in the wall groaned, moved even, and the sound sent cold shivers up the sprite’s back. a sudden and crippling fear droped into his gut like a block of ice as he slowly turned to look back at the wall. His ears rang with a peircing sound as well as his own heart drumming loudly.
when he finally faced the wall again it ripped open with a heavy glitch of flashing color and distorted spaces.
>RED_Holiday pt2
Icarus watched Gage bark obscenities and bitter curses at Rig while he tapped the cooling coffee mug in his hands with his wedding band. None of this was right, this wasn’t anything like he pictured it would be when he found Radio again.
He thought somehow they could go back to the way they were before… Before he realized how much things really weren’t alright. “Gage, sit down, please… ” He told the Green sprite tiredly.
“ Icarus… ” Gage replied in a tone that carried a hint of hurt.
“ Just… Let him finish. I don’t think he meant to hurt us or even them, and while I agree with you that the lies and… How we all found out was… Not okay. Let’s just hear the rest of it at least.” Icarus was always the voice of reason, but he looked so tired, so worn and lacking in his usual air of strength.
>RED Holiday
With several yards of fabric neatly folded in hand Radio Walked through a fairly empty terminal. He was trying to clear his head, telling himself all the stress and bickering was just from all the holiday fuss… The station was usually pretty crowded with the holiday so close but today it was…eerily quiet… Soft shuffling sounds in the distance of sprites darting about or the surge protector zipping about seemed spookier than usual.
Perhaps it was only because of his own nerves but just about everything was terrifying to him.
As he walked something caught his eye, a faint hint of yellow in an alley way. He stopped to look a bit closer.
Could it be?