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I Am Merely An ArtistI Am Merely An Artist
My breath is jagged, but I choose to continue. My thoughts are jumbled as I continue to run down the road that ends with my old house. My leather bag heavy against my side from the stolen goods and adrenaline is coursing through my veins. My clothes were in tatters from the years of not buying clothes. “I am merely an artist,” I keep reminding myself. I am faithful to my work and will always be. I work like a robber, sly in my movements, quick to avoid the law, and making sure nobody remembers who I am and was. What I do for a living is steal treasure and give those jewels to the younger generation of brainwashed materialistic humans. But, what I do, is seem as wrong. To society, I am just a thief in the night that steals.
I am on my last leg. Age has finally caught up with my rotting body, and I fear the worse for my life. Soon the law will have my head, and I will be simply but an example of some anima
F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 64==Lap 64=
Earl was laying in his bed with a smile on his face, as he had been having a good dream. The night had passed, Chiya and Earl had finally gotten to sleep after such a traumatic night of action and discoveries. Earl felt that he had a load off his shoulders now that his companions knew that he indeed was making money, however, he still wasn’t telling the whole truth about his income…
The race on Green Plant was in one day, they could do one of two things; firstly, they could leave immediately and spend a day there. The other option was simply to wait until the last day then fly there, and return to Mute City on the same day. The group all mutually agreed to do the second option, seeing no reason to stay away from the base--especially since Green Plant for the most part was a wasteland of plant life. Seppuku decided that they would all come together and form a new plan to ensure that Chiya and Seppuku raced well--this was basically Chiya’s last chance. While
DockingHe'd thought the Mystique huge when he'd first seen her. That seemed foolish now. The space he now found himself in - Dock 5, he reminded himself; there were at least four more like this - was simply immense. Mighty leviathans the size of whole towns were dwarfed in the cavernous expanse, waiting patiently while docking instructions were relayed to navigation computers. It seemed strange to think that this looked larger than anything he'd ever seen. After all, the sky he'd looked at every day back home had been infinite. Somehow, though, confining the space within walls of metal, reinforced plascrete and crysteel just made it look bigger.
Even the noise was more intense than he'd ever imagined was possible. Well, not noise as such - the vacuum of the dockspace carried no sound - but the vibrations of hundreds of tethered titans transmitted through the very structure of the station and added up to a shuddering growl that seemed to emanate from everywhere, like the murmured conversation
F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 62
“It’s so cold…”
Chiya was very silently walking with her companions down the first set of hallways—they were inside the Winged Gazelle. Chiya’s fingers were tightly wrapped around the barrel of her assault rifle, though Chiya would likely not be of any help if combat occurred, as she couldn’t control the recoil of the rifle like Seppuku and Earl. Earl looked back at Chiya and nodded, she was shivering greatly—mainly because she was wearing her shorts and sleeveless shirt.
“Of course it is, Mighty Gazelle doesn’t have skin. He really has no reason to pay for a heating unit,” Earl finally responded.
Seppuku held his hand out towards them and grinded his teeth, “Be more quiet you idiots, I don’t think we’re in any actual danger, but anything could happen,” he held his rifle more firmly and quirked his mouth, “So hush up.”
Chiya and Earl both nodded at his request. Not on
365 Days of Drabbles, Day 212 + 213“A contest for mad architects”
Note: Yeah I said no fanfic requests. I reserve the right to be inconsistent.
* * *
Third Annual Dono Vorrutyer Memorial Architecture Competition
“Aral, are you all right?” Cordelia asked with concern. Her husband the Lord Regent was standing in front of the model apartment building, one of two dozen on display in the University of Vorbarr Sultana's commencement hall, his head cocked at a sharp angle as he followed the spiral from the base of the building to the... she thought it might be a vertical launch tower at the top, but it was hard to tell.
“I think I've looked at too many of these,” he admitted. “This one almost makes sense.”
“I thought the art museum design with all the plumbing mounted outside was rather clever,” she noted.
“But not practical for maintenance purposes. The whole point behind Vorrutyer's designs was that while they might have been insane to an
The Logbook - Log_042The whole event from ealier:
We were walking for a while until we found a wall covered in vines full of glowing fruits. The fruits (which looked like grapes) had the same effect as the glowing meadow of dandelions I saw way back, they stopped to glow after picking them, but luckily they didn't wither. We were enjoying the taste, when a flash of light distracted us. There was the group of white furballs again, playing with my camera! Zoss decided to take it back for me and he started to chase them. They were so fast I couldn't keep their pace and I lost them short after. When I was catching my breath, they suddenly came back, the furballs passing me in a hurry when I saw Zoss running away from the giant snake! "Move!" He said and pushed me to the side when they were close, but because of that, the snake bite Zoss arm and dragged him away. It happened so fast I couldn't react, petrified. But then Zoss used the camera he retrieved and used the flashlight to partia
BiomechRight leg: sweep, right hand: hold. Apply fifteen pounds per square inch of pressure. Increase gradually.
My opponent was on his back in mere seconds. My right hand had a vise-like, firm grip on his air way and was well prepared to tighten. I shifted my weight to sturdy my hold on his abdomen and legs.
Left hook at center right jaw. Double standard speed.
He tried feebly to block my punch but he wasn't used to tracking any movements that so much as resembled mine. After all, I had just been updated a few days ago. I felt bad for the poor grunt underneath me. He never had a chance.
Right hold: increase pressure at higher rate. Close airway.
The restraints that had been placed in my eardrums screeched defiantly.
"That's enough Jackson. No fatalities at this testing facility", chimed the gruff voice that had been inplanted not too long ago. I sighed angrily.
"You're the one that gave me the chip that tells me what to do," I exclaimed while looking up to the enclosed observation nes
Frontier Colossus“We wuz expectin’ someone taller.”
Every rapin’ time, I get this. Seems that badass, galaxy-roamin’ lawgivers are meant to be at least six-foot tall and dressed like Wyatt Twerp over a build like Schwarzin-whateva. Me? I’m five-foot nuthin’ and three-foot six ‘cross the shoulders. My world don’t like gangly types. Heavy grav and storm systems fit to break a man and his all-terrain toys. We walked and wrangled our gear on Duressangs, the meanest omnivores ever lived. But they were the only thing bigger than a roach that was stubborn enough to exist on my homeworld. It made me tough. Like rocks an’ wolverines.
You could say I have issues. My mama calls it “down-home flavour” and my gal calls it “ooo baby”. My papa, devil take him, called it “spit ‘n’ grit”. Whateva. It got me through Engineer College, then Lawgiver ‘Cademy and got me into the arms of the gal all them taller t
Sane "Next, please." The voice from the speakers was tired and worn-out, like he had said the words so many times it stopped having a meaning. There was one man before me, unable to move. His hair was brown and greasy, his limbs short and thick and his hands shaking. Somewhere inside his mind, he was probably screaming for his body to move, but nothing happened. He looked around him quickly, catching the gaze of two angry guards. Their uniforms were grey. Grey like dust. Ash. Death.
"Next. Please." The man was still glued to the ground. I wanted to shake him back to his senses, but that would be seen as assault. So I was forced to simply stand and watch. The guards grabbed the man by his shoulders, forcing a soft whimper from his lips. They shot him quickly and pulled him away.
"Next, please." The guards were looking at me now, clunching their guns with a smile. The tallest one was itching to pull the trigger. So I walked over the pool
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More