Here’s the list of FT Memories again: Disclaimer: Please don’t pick a scene just so you can focus on your favorite character. Try draw what’s important. For instance; don’t pick Grand Magic Games day 5 just to draw Juvia.
Natsu and Lucy meets
Lucy first arrives at the Fairy Tail Guild
Natsu and Lucy saves Macao
Erza return and form the Guild’s strongest team
Deliora and Lyon introduction
Fairy Tail arrives at Phantom Lord
Natsu rescues Lucy from Phantom Lord
Element Four battles
Natsu vs Gajeel
Lucy’s resolution with her father
Confrontation with Erza’s old friends at the Casino
Tower of Heaven Battles
Natsu’s first Dragon Force
Gajeel and Juvia’s introduction to Fairy Tail
Miss. Fairy Tail/ Evergreen’s petrification
Fighting Festival/ Raijinshuu battles
Natsu and Gajeel vs Laxus
Allied Forces Assemble (Wendy’s introduction)
Orancion Seis battles
Natsu’s second Dragon Force
Cait Shelter disappearing
Introduction of Edolas Fairy Tail
Edolas Army Battles
Dragon Slayers vs Dorma Anim
Return to Earthland (Lisanna’s return)
8 Participants of the S-class trials revealed
Natsu and Zeref’s first meeting.
Seven Kin of Purgatory (Zancrow, Capricorn, Rustyrose, Cain)
Seven Kin of Purgatory (Ultear, Meredy, Azuma)
Team Natsu vs Hades
Gildarts and Cana’s relationship revealed
Acnologia coming to Tenrou
Fairy Tail return from the seven years
Introduction of Crime Sociere
The teams’ debut at the Grand Magic Games
Grand Magic Games Day 1
Grand Magic Games Day 2
Grand Magic Games Day 3
Grand Magic Games Day 4
Sting retaliation against Jiemma
Natsu, Wendy, and Mirajane rescues Lucy and Yukino
Grand Magic Games Day 5
Reveal of Future Lucy and Future Rogue
Opening of the Eclipse Gate/Seven Dragon Slayers
Defeat of Future Rogue
Flare and the Treasure Hunters
Law of Retrogression (Gray’s battle)
Tartaros Prologue (Ch.356-363, Laxus vs Tempesta, Natsu vs Jackel)
Tartaros Part 1 (Ch.364-370,Jellal vs Oracion Seis)
Tartaros Part 2 (Ch.371-378, Wendy vs Ezel)
Tartaros Part 3 (Ch.379-386, Aquarius’s sacrifice)
Tartaros Part 4 (Ch.387-394, Gray vs Silver)
Tartaros Part 5 (Ch.395-404, Dragons’ return)
Tartaros part 6 (Ch.405-415, Lumen Historie, End of Tartaros)
Tartaros Final (Ch.416)
Fairy Tail Zero
Natsu and Lucy one year reunion
Retrieval of Wendy
Infiltration of Avatar
Fairy Tail fight vs Avatar
Fairy Tail Revival
Team Natsu meets Brandish
Team B saves Team Natsu
Mavis reveals her past with Zeref
Magnolia Battles against Alverez (Erza vs Ageel, Raijinshuu vs Wahl)
Natsu vs Zeref
Lucy’s past with Brandish
South Battle against Alverez (Laxus vs Wahl, Sky Sisters vs Dimaria)
North Battle against Alverez (Acnologia vs Irene, Gajeel vs Bloodman)
Floodlights lighting the top of the new 102-story Empire State Building (Shreve, Lamb & Harmon, 1931) the night of May 4th, 1931, three days after of the building’s official dedication. The rich Art Deco architecture skyscrapers on foreground is the Bricker Casino and 1400 Broadway Building (Ely Jacaques Kahn, 1931). The old Metropolitan Life Tower (Napoleon Le Brun, 1909) are visible at right, background.
Nevele Grande Skating Rink | Town of Wawarsing, Ellenville, New York
After falling into disrepair, in May 2012, Nevele Investors LLC announced that the Nevele Grande Hotel would undergo a $500 million redevelopment to turn it into a resort and casino, subject to approval of state legislation to allow casino gaming. The 1966 tower and entrance lobby, ice skating rink, and golf course would be retained in the new complex. - Via: 1 | 2
Tower of Pizza. Las Vegas Strip, 1965-84. Referenced in the film Casino as the fictional Leaning Tower Restaurant. Tower was owned by Jasper Speciale, who ran an illegal bookmaking and loan-sharking operation out of the restaurant. 1968 photo, from Las Vegas Studio: Images from the Archives of Robert Venturi & Denise Scott Brown.
Disclaimer: The Starkillers Cycle contains strong language and graphic content. It is not intended for readers under age 18.
Turner hated StimKits, and he especially hated them when they were black market, hacked-together, pieces of outdated shit that shifty-eyed pawn dealers overcharged him for.
But his foot was a fuck-fest, his case was an even bigger fuck-fest, and now Mel…
“Fuckin’ Diwali of fuckin’ fests,” Turner snarled, the words gurgling through the StimKit mask. He and Colt sat beneath a jumbotron, their boots slowly sinking into the compacted trash. It was the same jumbotron Turner had watched Mel slip past only…shit—had that only been fifteen minutes ago?
“You know Mel,” Colt said. A statement, not a question.
“Knew,” Turner corrected. “A long time ago.”
When Turner had first spotted Mel, her turquoise hair glowing in the rain-filled haze, he’d thought only one thing: Turquoise still suits her.
A stupid sentiment—that’s what it had been—just like Turner had been a stupid fucking idiot. He was goddamned adult now, but the way his heart had been pounding, you’d have thought he was back at the academy, facing Mel on the mat.
After seeing her across the street, Turner had forced a sharp exhale and eased a hand from his jacket pocket. The Evangelist who’d bumped into Mel had still been shouting for her to repent, so Turner had tugged his jacket’s hood over his eyes and called up the IFD screen on his watch.
“Coordinates,” he’d murmured to his IFD, and a wild display of lines and intersections had popped up. A blinking dot a quarter mile east of Turner’s position had showed Colt heading farther east with each step.
But Turner hadn’t linked through to the com in Colt’s tracker. Nor had he set off after Mel or alerted his transport shuttle to get the second holding cell prepped.
Instead he’d said a single word: “Mem-flash.” Then he’d shoved into the flow of bodies and vehicles, aiming for the still-yelling evangelist. Halfway across the street, Turner stepped into something disgustingly squishy that he prayed wasn’t human shit before he finally pushed around a skeletal man with the enormous pupils of someone on embers.
Turner reached the wrinkly Evangelist.
“Repent!” the man cried, thrusting a pamph-LED at Turner. “The Tri-God will forgive!”
“So I’ve heard.” Turner lifted his IFD to the man’s face and tugged his hood completely over his eyes. “Unfortunately I won’t forgive, and I can’t have you blabbing about what you just saw. Sorry about this.”
The IFD flashed—four pulses that Turner could just see even through closed eyes. Then he tipped up his hood and scrutinized the man in front of him.
The evangelist’s eyes shuttered several times, and the look on his face showed absolute confusion. A few passersby looked comparably as dazed, but they hadn’t been blasted by the full mem-flash. Only the last few seconds had been wiped from their minds—unlike this guy, who had lost a full five minutes. No memory of seeing Mel. Or of seeing Turner, for that matter.
Mem-flashes were some majorly contraband tech—the kind most people didn’t know existed. The kind only crime lords and special ops had access to…but that only crime lords could actually afford.
Turner had gotten his mem-flash off a fallen Cyrissian thug’s IFD. It’d had only four flashes left.
Now, there were just three.
Turner twisted toward the nearby alley, his lips settling into a grim line. Five minutes had been shaved off that religious bum’s memory. Turner should feel guilty about it.
But he didn’t.
That was how the Axis worked—claim or be claimed, slay or be slain—and having a conscience just got in the way of progress.
It had taken Turner too long to figure that out, and he’d lost everything because of it. His parents. His brother. Mel…
Leaving behind the confused Evangelist, Turner had ducked into the space between shops. “Coordinates,“ he’d murmured, stepping lightly down the darkened alley. The map had glowed once more, showing a body sleeping against the left wall. Or maybe it was a corpse. Either way, it wasn’t Turner’s problem.
He hurried onward, glancing at the IFD as he went. Colt was on the move nearby and heading in the same direction as Turner. In fact, they’d converge in four blocks.
As Turner slipped out of the alley and into another street crushed with bodies and booming with jumbotrons, he allowed a smile to tug at his lips. Colt Maddox was good at this tracking stuff—Turner had made a wise selection.
For all that Colt had his strange crush on Daphne Green—something Turner saw all the time with a certain wholesome type of inmate who needed to fixate on the good in order to survive the bad—Maddox would find Mel exactly as ordered. In fact, as Turner had hoped, Colt would reach Mel first. He’d warn her and probably find out what had happened to Daphne…and then Turner would step in and play bad cop.
Or that had been the plan.
But, as things tended to go down when caught in Melnara Pamouk’s orbit, nothing had followed the plan.
And now, Turner had a fucking crater in his foot, a bootlegged StimKit to his nose, and a P.G.E. commercial blasting on the jumbotron overhead.
Colt cleared his throat, dragging Turner’s unwilling mind back into the present. The convict’s expression was stiff—bored, even—but his eyes were alert and rooted on the traffic humming by. “You work Mel’s case or something?” he asked.
“Yeah. Or something,” Turner said through the mask. He was such a fucking idiot. He’d thought this plan would work—just like he’d thought he’d be fine when he faced Mel. He’d thought all that stuff between them would be water under the galactic sluice, so to speak.
But when he’d seen her, crouching as she had and with blood and grime all over her face, and her eyes had met his…He’d gone right back to that godforsaken day six years ago. The helpless feeling that had consumed him for a year while he worked with Mel on the training mat and watched her self-destruct.
And then…thatmoment. The moment when Mel had crossed the mentor-student line and changed everything between them—changed everything about how he saw her and how he saw himself.
All those feelings had surged back and left him paralyzed.
Another surreptitious throat-clearing from Colt. “What now? As fun as this is, staying in one place is a bad idea.” His voice was almost inaudible, what with a news segment blasting overhead.
“Now,” Turner growled through the mask, “we find Daphne Greene. She’s the priority.”
Colt’s posture seemed to melt ever so slightly. Relief, maybe, that they were finally going after the girl he was worried about.
Turner was worried about Daphne too, but she also had this uncanny knack for survival. A way of blending into the background and strategizing her way out of corners that Mel didn’t have.
For all her toughness, Mel was a goddamned beacon for attention. Danger swarmed her like flies to a corpse, and—
“Another revolt on the fringe,” blurted the jumbotron’s newscaster, shattering Turner’s thoughts. "The Federation is warning travelers to avoid the Delira Belt until the violence has been controlled.”
Turner dropped the StimKit mask and limped two steps forward, neck craning to get a good look at the retina-burning screen overhead. Healing chemicals sparked in his veins while lemon keened in his nostrils, briefly brighter than the stench of this shit-hole planet.
“This latest rebellion against Federation rule,” said the blond anchorwoman, “marks the sixteenth this month. Destroyers have been deployed across the Axis to maintain peace.”
The screen cut to a computer mock-up of a standard Destroyer mech suit. It looked so clean—so safe—spinning there like a robotic doll. The media never showed a man beside the suit for scale; they never showed how a single mechanical boot could flatten an entire family in their home.
The image cut again, this time to footage of a grinning soldier. A familiar soldier that made Turner’s teeth grind.
Harrison was in his dress uniform, whispering into some pink-haired bimbo’s ear—as if this was how all soldiers spent their free time.
It was just one more shiny lie about who—or what—a Destroyer really was.
Turner’s breath hissed out, and he barely heard the newscaster say, “Harrison Hahn, pilot of Shiva the Destroyer, has been sent in to defend the Federation.”
Defend. Right. More like slaughter the innocent. How many of these death-runs had Harrison been on now? If Turner’s soul had blackened to ash after only six “Federation Peace Maneuvers,” then what could possibly be left of Harrison’s?
“He looks like you,” Colt said. “You related?”
“Nope,” Turner lied, cutting a glance at Colt’s rain-misted profile. The scarred man looked a bit less terrifying when softened by neon lights. “You know anything about getting into the Altheron, Maddox?”
“I know that’s what doors are for.”
“Hilarious,” Turner countered drily. The news had moved on to the grav-ball game—thank the fucking stars. It was bad enough thinking of Mel right now; Turner didn’t need his little brother in the mix too.
“I need to get into the VIP levels, Maddox.” Turner flashed his eyebrows meaningfully. “Can you get me in there? That’s where Daphne’s boyfriend will be.”
A hint of a smile, a flash of teeth, and all of the softness erased from Colt’s face. “Yeah,” he drawled, eyes flicking toward the towering casinos overhead. “I can definitely get us in. The question is, Suit, whether you can get us back out again.”