08.30.16 // DOTA PA POTA

Maganda talaga umpisa ng araw ko e. Pumasok ako ng thermo ng wala man lang kareview review para sa quiz, ayon tangina sarap titigan ng white board sa harap e Hahahahahaha

Maaga kami dinismiss, 9:30 palang tapos na. Syempre as usual diretso laro na. Walo. Walong laro tangina 2 lang naipanalo namin Hahahahaha putangina aba. Yung huling panalo pa comeback lang kinginang buhay to dota pa ser! Sarap magdota ano pota HAHAHAHAHAHAHA Pag uwi kala mong mga galing trabaho pagod na pagod e Hahahahaha

Tas bukas may recitation sa histo, tapos diretso quiz sa philo. Pota dota pa sir! HAHAHAHAHAHA wag na magreview kinginang yan!!!… dejk kelangan kong pumasa hahahahaha
What If, Part 1

Author’s notes: Sorry for my absence lately guys. Been all over the place, but I’ve been hit with some fresh inspiration thanks to the amazing artists @nikanono @jawlipops and @pota-totoo. Seriously go check them out. This is an AU exploring what if Talon had found Tracer and turned her into their agent. Warning for language. Forgive how rough it is, I’m just getting through my major block. I do not own any part of Blizzard or its many franchises or characters.

There is peace to be had sitting in a sniper’s nest high above the city.

‘It’s like being a cat,’ her mentor’s words echoed in her head, 'hiding, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.’ Adjusting her scope, the predator in position peered down at three Talon agents chatting with each other. They seemed nonchalant, not worried at all about any interference of their mission: a payload delivery. Walking at a calm speed, one threw his head back and laughed.

They almost seemed human. It’s what made the job difficult. Amélie had to justify killing people, actual people with lives and families, to save the families they threatened to ruin. She remembered the bare spot on her finger where the sun shone around an engagement ring, and her hand tightened on her rifle.

'So why am I here.’ She thought to herself. There didn’t see to be an immediate threat, and the payload seemed benign enough. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the air crackled with a strange electricity.

“Seems a trifle overkill to send Overwatch’s best agent to intervene my payload.” The voice followed a flash of black as a boot connected with Amélie’s nose. Her face split with pain, tears filled her eyes, and blood splashed down her chin. She rolled, gripping her face in defense.

'Where the hell did they come from,’ Amélie managed to form the thought against a brimming headache.

“Christ.” Amélie felt a boot dig under her ribs and roll her. “This is the best they have to offer? Overwatch is in even shittier shape than I left it.” She felt a sharp pain in her ribs as the assailant swiftly kicked her. Amélie gasped for breath, taking stock of her injuries.

'Broken nose. Cracked, potentially broken rib. Maybe two.’ She pried her eyes open to identify her attacker and forgot how to breathe.

“Lena?” Were it not for the very real pain coursing through her right now, Amélie would have sworn she was seeing ghosts. The young woman that stood before her was an echo of the vibrant pilot that once dreamed of joining Overwatch, but she was still there.

She was alive. Lena was standing in black attire, boots, pants, leather coat, with a strange red glow illuminating her chest. Red goggles and a sneer clouded her face, but Amélie would recognise that spiked hair anywhere.

“No. Lena is dead. She was left behind to rot by the valiant heroes.” Planting another hard boot to Amélie’s chest, she rolled the sniper closer to the edge of the building. “They call me Tracer now. Fitting, seeing as there was barely a trace of me left after that crash.” Tracer squat down by the defeated hero, taunting Amélie with her words.

“Felt great really. To be left behind by the people I called friends.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now. Actually kind of funny that you’re the best they have to offer and you couldn’t even keep your own husband safe.”

A loud crack split the air, startling Tracer and knocking her down into a sitting position. She gingerly touched her shoulder as Amélie’s pistol smoked from her side. Blood started to trickle down the leather jacket as Tracer chuckled.

“Guess there’s still some fight in you left.” She barely got the words out as Amélie leapt to tackle her. They tumbled a moment before coming to a stop with Amélie’s grip on Tracer’s collar and a fist curled like a snake ready to strike.

“You know. Last lass that had me pinned like this screamed my name six times in one night. Think we could get you to seven?” Tracer’s nose made a sickening crunch behind Amélie’s fist. Gathering a mouth full of blood, she spat to the side, managing a sneer under her broken nose and fat lip. “Ought to determine a safe word first, love.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m thinking 'fruitcake.’ Both because I find it hilarious and because I doubt you’d shout that when-” Amélie dug her knuckles into Tracer’s wounded shoulder, cutting her words off with a choked yelp of pain.

“What the fuck do you care?” Tracer shouted through gritted teeth.

“We were friends.” Amélie growled. “How could you join Talon?”

“Talon saved me.” The acid in her words made Amélie pause. “When all my friends left me to die. Or worse.” She spat the word 'friends’ from her mouth like burned food. Amélie leaned back on her haunches, loosening her grip on the smaller woman.

“I never stopped.” A whisper barely escaping her lips.

“What?” Hissed Tracer.

“I never stopped looking for you.” Amélie shook her head, finding eye contact difficult with the once hazel, now red tinted eyes before her. They paused, silence hanging heavy between them, when a loud crackle filled Tracer’s ear.

“Yeah?” She snarled, finger pressed to her ear drum. A pause. “Yeah I heard the gunshot.” She let loose a disgusted sigh and rolled her eyes, looking back at the sniper. “Yeah I found the enemy sniper. I’m dealing with her now.” Removing her finger from her ear, she curled her lip. “Fucking grunts can’t tell a side arm from a rifle shot. They didn’t see the gun so they assume it’s some hidden sniper.” She widened her eyes in a mocking tone.

“Well they weren’t wrong.” Amélie responded, a slight chuckle in her words.

“Don’t take their side.” Tracer shook her head, exasperated. “Tell you what. I’ve had fun. I’ll let you live, so long as you run. Starting now.” Tracer pulled dual pistols from her sides as Amélie somersaulted backwards off Tracer’s lap. She swiped her rifle just as Tracer started firing at her feet. Amélie gracefully dove off the roof, only to launch a grappling hook at the next ledge. She disappeared over the next roof top, leaving Tracer sitting alone. She ran a hand through her spiked bangs and sighed.

“Fuck, Trace. What are you getting yourself into…” She asked the empty air.

Okay, so what if other apes around the world caught the ALZ virus from humans as it spread and became an epidemic? What if there’s pockets of ape tribes all over the world forming their own cultures with varying degrees of humanlike customs in former captive chimps, or entirely natural ape-generated customs in wild populations? How would wild apes have changed without human influence once they had their intelligence cranked up a few notches? With humanity dying off and nature reclaiming the world, would orangutans become social again when there’s more forest and more food growing closer together? Would chimpanzees find deserted human villages and move in? Would gorillas recognize the strength in numbers and have several groups with dominant silverbacks join forces and share power? Would bonobos stay as relatively peaceful as they are, or would they develop towards violence?

I want to see Caesar’s tribe encountering another ape tribe. Or a spinoff with a tribe of totally wild apes living and developing with zero human influence. SO BADLY.

Tarzan And The Planet Of The Apes #3 by Duncan Fegredo

Tarzan on the Planet of the Apes #3 (of 5)
Tim Seeley (W), David Walker (W), Fernando Dagnino (A), Sandra Molina ©, and Duncan Fegredo (Cover)
On sale Nov 30
FC, 32 pages
An attack on Ape City has ties to a mysterious event from Tarzan and Caesar’s childhood, and the connection reveals a battle much greater than the brothers could have imagined, not to mention new villains and heroes.
• From the writers of Revival and Power Man and Iron Fist!
• Copublished with BOOM! Studios.

Çiçekler ölmüş, hepsi.
Eskiden bir yer ayarladın mı,
Güneşi iyiyse, yerini de sevdiyse ne biçim açardı.

Şimdi güneş aynı,
Işık aynı
Yer aynı…
Suni gübre istiyorlar.
Bir iki gram potas koyunca bir coşuyor namussuzlar.
Ama sonra…

Muhsin Bey / Yavuz Turgul - 1987

                      se encontraba recogiendo el montón de libros que se habían caído de manera irremediable gracias a la sacudida de la tarde pasada, le había tocado aquella tarea debido a la brillante idea de separar a todos los de su fraternidad en equipos para que merodearan un poco por las demás casas en caso de que alguien necesitase un par de manos extras, dejando de lado el desastre de la caída de varios proyectos de los Ómicron, nada había sufrido daños extremo. el crujido de la puerta le obligó a girarse, una sonrisa un tanto aliviada al reconocer la silueta masculina ❛ y yo pensando que iban a dejar a la vice recogiendo libros y cadáveres de proyecto sola ❜ bromeó con humor, encogiendo los hombros en el momento que colocaba el tomo ‘Guerra y Paz’ en el último estante  ❛ ¿cómo está tu novia, por cierto? ( @corbilde )

Madalas ko nang makita yung unang naka-churva ko. Hahaha pota napapangiti na natatawa nalang ako tuwing nakikita rin niya ko eh, tapos siya naman nakatingin lang aba bastos ngitian mo rin dapat ako, parang wala kang kinuha sakin ah 😒 hahahahaha wtf marian