See, the issue is I could only find the one really old poor quality Tesla cover of that one so it doesn't make the best example of it, compared to the HD one of The Only Thing They Fear Is You which was just shot literally a week ago. Besides, the drums are kinda important to E1M1 and they're a pain in the ass to synthesize a stable arc pattern for from what I'm seeing here :p
Finished the third square for @badthingshappenbingo (I finished this months ago, I’m just terrible at posting :D)
Featuring my characters from my original story, The Covenant that Fell. James is a Hollow, an undead mortal who can suffer unimaginable injuries without perishing, is abducted by his abusive twin sister, Jack. Is there a reason behind this? Probably not, she’s awful.
James smiled as he watched the tavern grow with life and energy. The more drink the people had in them, the rowdier it grew. It would have been a concern of his, this many mortals drinking copious amounts of alcohol, but it was all on Lavinia’s Homestead. They all knew the rules and they all respected it. Otherwise, they’d be on their own, out in the wilds and no one wanted that. Not right now, not with all the things happening in the country.
He casually took a sip of his drink, though knit his eyebrows and pulled the mug away. When it touched his tongue, it grew sour and tasteless and felt like a mouthful of ash. It couldn’t already be time, not yet. Maybe it was just a dirty mug. He held his hand up to the bartender and ordered another. When it was slid his way and he gave it a sip, he found it tasted just the same as the other. James set the mug next to the other, and took a step back from the bar. All the sounds around him were drowned out now, only muffled around him. He turned to the room and watched the crowd. He tried to find the joy and splendor that was so easy to see only moments ago, but it was gone. James pushed through the crowd, ignoring their complaints until he made his way outside.
It was cold. So cold that small bits of snow began to fall. James let the cold air in, let it sting his lungs. He needed something clarifying. He needed to not be around people as this panic set in.
As a Hollow, a mortal being brought back from the plane of the dead, you needed to feast on the living to keep yourself as one. The thought had in bent over, hands on his knees, and heaving in panicked breaths. He’d done it before, had to take a life and… do what he needed to. But they were a bad person. There were no bad people around here. What if he couldn’t find someone by the time his body and soul were starving, by the time he couldn’t control his actions and ate whoever was nearest? What if he hurt someone good?
James was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a loud cheer in the tavern. He turned and watched as they all laughed and enjoyed their night. They all could have their fun, drink their drinks, have no cares, and even die at the end of the night if that’s what Death demanded. But James couldn’t. He couldn’t sit there, with the knowledge it was time for him to feed, and pretend to have joy.
He was an Aberration, now the same as Umbra or Bloodless. Mortal, but not quite. Aberrations were turned into abominations against their own will and were forced to do horrific things just to maintain their existence. He was one of those now. The thoughts plagued his mind, circled and constricted like snakes. It left him wandering into the night, into the vast woods that surrounded the tavern.
He wandered for a while, through the trees, off the trails. He tried to think of anything other than this impending sense of doom. Even nothing was preferable to the thoughts that were currently constricting like snakes around his mind. So nothing was what he thought of as his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. He was thankful for the moon’s light. It made this stroll far less dangerous.
He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been going until the cold bit into his skin. When his eyesight was finally pulled off of the ground, he found himself completely lost. Not that forests were typically memorable, but he knew the forest around Lavinia’s rather well. This was… nothing he knew. He wasn’t sure if he’d gotten lost from his absent mindedness or Lavinia’s wards. Perhaps both. James spun in circles, in a desperate attempt he’d see something to lead him back home. Anything.
He stopped when a sudden chill slid down his spine, like someone, somewhere, was watching him. It was only now, with the notice of this feeling that pulled him out of this fog, did he realize all the forest life had silenced as well. He’d wandered too far this time.
He hadn’t even felt the blow to his head.
James’ vision was fuzzy when consciousness found him once more. Though he tried to focus on things, like the lit torch, his vision still failed him. His head felt like it weighed a ton and each effort to pick it up exerted nearly all of his energy. He didn’t even realize there was another person in the room until he heard their soft chuckle. He shook his head and picked it up and squinted. He saw them stand, familiar somehow, and walk over to the torch. They pulled it from the wall and held it out to him, as if in observation. Though he tried to identify who he was and therefore gauge just how bad this situation was, the glow of the flames kept them obscured. James dropped his head again as the combination of the flames and glow caused his skull to throb once more.
The individual chuckled again and tossed the torch to the ground. They walked to the side of him and whatever they put their hands on caused James’ left arm to lift. With the rattling of the chains and the elevation of one half of his body, he figured they were pulling his “strings”. They walked in front of his, a hand slapping his cheek, and lifted the other side. Now off his knees, James was forcefully standing, the coldness of the cave walls on his back.
“Time to wake up…” the voice was a woman’s voice and she was extremely close to him. Her hand grabbed his jaw, squished his cheeks, and pulled his head up. His eyes met with his sister’s, her piercing hazel, almost red, irises wide with excitement. A blade formed in her hand and she cut into his skin, through muscle and flesh alike. James vision went from blurred to hyper focused in the fraction of a second. The sudden change was almost as painful as the new wound being made.
He gasped and clenched his jaw so tightly he was sure his teeth would shatter. He couldn’t tell if this was an extremely long cut, or if she was just taking her time. But, like all things, it ended. James’ head, no longer supported by his sister’s hand, dropped. He panted, begging for air to enter his lungs faster. His eyesight throbbed along with the pain on his breast.
“Good to see you still feel.” she took a few steps back and sat behind the torch, on a conveniently placed rock. “How’ve you been brother? It’s been a while.” James didn’t answer, he honestly wasn’t sure he could right now. At least it wouldn’t be coherent. Jack tapped her fingers against the hilt of the blade, the clinking of metal echoing throughout the cave. He could tell she was growing impatient. Though he tried to muster an answer, nothing could come to mind. That pain was stunning and fresh. When he heard Jack stand and a frustrated sigh leave her lips, James was forced into action. His head snapped up and he tried to back up, but was only met with cold, damp wall.
“I’m--I’ve been living.” it was all he could think of. He prayed to the Goddesses it would satisfy her. Jack stopped in her tracks and stared for just a moment before laughter bubbled up.
“We all have been.” she said between breaths. Once she calmed, she continued her approach. James tried to back up once more, but slammed into the wall again.
“I-I answered you.”
“I know.”
“Please don’t--”
“Hush, little brother.” she slowly buried the blade in his belly. “You know it wouldn’t have mattered.” James felt tears poke at the corners of his eyes. She left the blade in and began to pull at the wound on his chest. He watched her tug and pull away the flesh. She looked astonished. “Huh. You really do have no heart, something you always accused me of.” her hand dropped to the blade and she mercilessly twisted. If James had any food in his belly, he was sure it would’ve come up by now.
“Was I w-” James sucked in a breath as he fought through the pain. “Was I wrong?”
“Oh not at all. It’s just not as literal as yours.” she crouched a bit, to peer into the hole she’d created. “So how long until you begin to grow into a beast?” Jack turned on her heel, yanked the blade free, and dropped back down onto the rock with a wide smile. Her elbows rested atop her knees and her chin rested in her palms. The expression on her face twisted James’ stomach into a knot.
“You know what I mean, little brother.” she probed for a response.
“I-I…” James shook his head. “I don’t.”
“Oh, but you’re such a liar!” her tone was gleeful. “How long?” she probed again.
“Never.” he answered. Jack rolled her eyes and stood. She bent over and scooped up the torch. Her motions were fluid as she moved it to be in front of his face once more.
“How long until you turn into a monster that attacks whatever is nearest to you? An hour? A day? A week?”
“Never.” James repeated through grit teeth.
“But,” Jack tilted her head from side to side as she now paced in front of James. “If I starve you for long enough, it’ll eventually happen.” her voice rose with excitement. “Your blood has already stopped flowing,” she pointed to the open wound with the torch. “And I’m no Necromancer but I’m sure that means it’ll happen sooner rather than later.” She stopped and turned her head to stare at him, to no doubt see his reaction at her having this knowledge. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“What do you want?” Jack sat back down, an exaggerated frown on her face. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wasn’t playing her game any longer, or if he didn’t know.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Nothing with you is.” his tone sounded defeated, his head dropped back down. “Just get to the point, Jacqueline.” he was tired of this already, he just wanted her little game to be over.
“Tell me, little brother… if I were to drop you back in the middle of that Goddess forsaken forest, would your flesh eating maw seek out the nearest creature? Or would it be the nearest mortal?”
“I would kill whatever is in front of me.”
She seemed entertained with the answer. Her head dropped back and a cheery laugh left her lips. This was all fun and games to her, she didn’t care about the results. At the end of it all, she’d get what she wanted. Her laugh lasted for what seemed like an eternity, her body’s twisted shadow reflected on the cave wall. James winced once her laughter suddenly halted, as it did when an idea better than her current thought popped into her head.
“So if I were lucky enough to find that brown haired Orc and drag him all the way here after you’ve gone rabid, you’re telling me you’d attack him like a starved dog?” Jack clapped her hands together and turned her eyes to James. “Oh, it’d be like the holidays.” a panic rose in James’ chest.
“Jack--” she held up the blade to cut him off.
“Silence, brother.” she stood, approaching him once more. “We shall wait and see. And when you turn into a beast, you shall see who you devour. I’ll let it be a surprise.”
WSOP de 1982: Nunca pierdas la esperanza, una ficha y una silla es todo lo que necesitas
WSOP de 1982: Nunca pierdas la esperanza, una ficha y una silla es todo lo que necesitas
La WSOP de 1982 fue el escenario para el regreso más espectacular que se ha presentado en la serie. Jack Strauss, uno de los jugadores de Texas originales, uno que jugaba el torneo desde sus inicios. Al igual que otros jugadores se presentaba en la serie atraído por los juegos laterales que se armaban en conjunto.
En el día uno del evento principal, Jack Strauss empujó todas sus fichas y perdió…
El poker con límite es una ciencia; pero el sin límite es un arte. En el primero estás disparando a una diana; en el segundo, la diana cobra vida y te devuelve los disparos.
