What you need:
-square piece of paper
-pen or pencil, I’d recommend red
-a paper cup, toilet paper tube, or something disposable
Recommended ingredients (you can taylor these to your own needs):
-bugs or cobwebs
-dead or rotten anything (plants, bugs, food)
1. Create a heart, either by cutting the paper into a heart shape, or looking up some origami
2. Write the victims name in the middle, you can write a sigil here if you want too
3. Leave this out overnight and channel all you your negitive energy into it
4. You can skip this step, but next I “drowned” it and envisioned them having nightmares of drowning
5. Next your going to want to envision things that they will have nightmares about while you do the next couple of steps. Rip the paper to shreds so that they may dream of animals tearing them apart
6. Put the paper shreds into your container. Pour the dirt on the so they will think of suffication amd claustrophobia
7. Put the bug or spiderweb in so they may dream of swarms of spiders or maggots eating them
8. Put in the rotten or dead plant, pr whatever you chose, so they may think lf death
9. I happened to have a stone that absorbed my bad dreams, so I put it in there to release them unto the victim
10. Next, close and crush the container so they will not escape
11. Finally, throw this in a trash can do they are doomed to be surrounded bye filth, alone, and surrounded by darkness. You may want to take out the trash after this
I MAY MAKE THIS INTO A SERIES! IF IT’S LIKED ENOUGH IT’LL HAPPEN! BUT FOR NOW THERE WILL ONLY BE ONE MORE PART CONFIRMED!
Warnings:Lots of death mentions!!!!!, blood, family death mention, swearing, gun use
Prompt: I watched the walking dead lol
THE MONSTERS AMONG US
The world surrounding you was silent besides the crunch of dead leaves under your feet as you walked. The forest was still today. The brisk autumn air chilling your bones, running shivers up your spine. Next to you was Georgia, an amber haired teen who had some how survived the last year by herself inside of a gas station. She held a large dew-drenched map in her bony hands, the colours of it reminded you of your old bedroom. Pink and green and any pastel colour. When the world was sweet and innocent. When you were sweet and innocent. In your hands was a beloved shotgun your father shoved at you just before he died.
Death was a common thing nowadays.
It started with a virus. A simple cold- at least that’s what everyone thought at first. It turned into something more disastrous, monstrous, perfectly evil. When the high fever broke and the vomiting was gone the world was hungry; hungry for brains, flesh, human meat. Anything that had to do with blood.
And the world just took and took and took anything it could grab its hands on. Cities were destroyed. Families wiped off the board. Sunlight didn’t feel so warm anymore, and neither did the sound of music. Every thing now was either dreary, dark, or dead. You wished you were dead. You didn’t want to see the carnage anymore. You didn’t want to hear the screams of innocent people in the distance, how your heart wrenched to help them but you knew better. Helping people would get you killed in a gruesome way that you couldn’t dream of, never wanted to dream of. But there was something that pushed you to stay alive.
It was like a video game your brother played in the basement. But only this was reality and there were no do-overs, no second life’s, no restarts. Once you’re dead you belong to them. You don’t even remember anything and neither does anyone else when you turn, but you all have the same instinct for blood, flesh, and brain.
You watched it happen your younger brother, how he was one of the first to go. Later, as it got worse and the world was slowly tearing apart, your mother caught it. Six hours and then she was one of them. Six hours and the person who you loved and cherished was gone. It’s been two years since their deaths.
You hadn’t had the chance to see it happen to your father if there was even anything left of him. You were stupid enough to convince him to join a group, thought it would be safer, that you could start a new family. You thought you could trust them. You were so stupid, so, so stupid. And your stupidity got your father killed, the only family you had left.
The group had ditched you to save their own skins when a swarm of the dead came in. He gave his life for yours, along with his stolen shotgun. It weighed heavy in your hands, a broken promise to a girl from her daddy that he’ll always protect her.
You clenched your jaw in anger, feeling tears pricking your eyes. You blinked to keep them away. Be strong, be fearless, and move on, you chanted to yourself. Some days, the mantra was the only thing that got you out of your sleeping bag.
“Uh..” Georgia’s voice filled your thoughts. You stopped walking, fingers clenching around the shotgun as you faced her.
“Uh?” You pushed with raised eyebrows.
“I think… I think we’re lost.” Her voice was small.
You tried your hardest not to snap at her.
It’s been two days since the both of you’ve eaten. It’s been two days since Georgia decided if the both of you took a shortcut through the woods it would lead to a suburban area. Food, there was a promise of food. Your stomach gurgled at the thought. Another broken promise.
“What do you mean you think we’re lost,” You growled through clenched teeth.
She looked to you, fear flashing in her hollow green eyes. “I-I don’t know where we are…”
You opened your mouth to yell at her, to let out the pent anger that had been raging inside of you for days. But it wasn’t worth it. Half the forest would hear you if you did, and that would create some unwanted friends. A strong blow of wind pushed through the trees, they groaned and swayed side to side as if they were waving. The air promised winter. Winter was more deadly than the dead.
“Georgia, Georgie, sweetie.” You began. “How long have we been lost for?”
“A few hours.”
“What?!” It came out louder than it was supposed to. You winced, your hands hot on the gun and eyes immediately darting to the trees around you for any sudden movements.
Georgia’s voice cracked as she spoke in a whisper, “I.. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want you to get angry.”
You scoffed. “Me? Angry? I’m upset now because we’ve wasted more time when we could be eating. Georgia… we’re gonna starve if we don’t find food. Please tell me you realize that, right?”
“I get, (Y/N)! I get that we’re lost! I get that we haven’t eaten for days!” She screamed. “Don’t treat me like a kid!”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no.
“Shut up,” You whisper-yelled grabbing her wrists tightly.
“(Y/N), let go of me!” She yelled, slapping your shoulder as you continued the death grip on her wrist.
“Shut up, Georgia. Shut! Up!” You pulled her in close, faces inches apart.
You could smell her breath, something that was surprisingly minty fresh. You squinted at her mouth, noticing that when she opened to whine that there was a piece of white gum on her back molars. You gasped.
“Are you stealing my gum?”
“No!” Was her first answer. “Yes.” Was her second answer after you squeezed her wrist again, digging your nails into her grimy skin.
“What did I tell you about-”
She interrupted you, her body going still. “(Y/N)…”
From behind you, a groan sounded. Everything in your body locked up, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. The groan came again, this time longer and more urging. Your throat became dry as you whipped around. In front of you were ten maybe twelve of dead corpses shuffling towards you and Georgia.
“We’re fucked,” Georgia said after catching her breath.
You froze in fear, watching them inch closer. You could smell the decaying bodies on the wind that whipped your hair around your face. You stared at them as Georgia tugged on your arms, screaming your name and telling you that you had to go.
They were close, and your scent was the only thing on their minds. If they even had minds. Your chest heaved up and down as your breathing rapidly changed. Georgia was right, you were fucked. And you were going to bed dead in a moment if you didn’t move. But there was something entrancing about the dead. Hw they moved, how their heads cocked to the side at every sound.
The sound of a gunshot rang beside your ear. You jumped out of your haze, hands instinctively raising and covering your left ear. You twisted in shock, leaves and wet dirt spewing about your feet. Georgia held the shotgun, her face clenched in such fury and fear that you knew she was gonna fire again. Without a second thought you grabbed the shotgun from her hands, then her wrist, and then you ran.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Firing a gun in the valley would welcome more dead. Not only that but you used ammo, precious ammo that you’ve been saving for something important. If you hadn’t stalled you wouldn’t be in this situation.
Running, you felt like that was the only thing you knew. Under your feet, you felt your sneakers suck against the mud from the past days of rain. Icy wind kissed your flushed cheeks. You pushed harder, hearing more moans coming from behind you. How they kept up, you didn’t know. It only made you run faster despite the piercing in your lungs created. Alive, stay alive.
“(Y/N)!” Georgia called your attention. You skidded to a stop to see her turning down a hill, her hair vanishing out of sight. For a moment your heart leapt in fear for her but she called out for you again, “We can lose them at the river!”
With a sharp glance, you stare down the dead that had multiplied in numbers. The river. Your father’s voice echoed through your head, run. With a grunt you took off after Georgia, leaving the walking dead behind you. As you went your scarred hands slapped and scrapped against trees and sometimes hit the cold, wet ground, as you tried to keep balance. There was no room for error.
The hill was steep, full of trees and overturned leaves from where your companion had run. You followed her footsteps, eventually finding yourself alone at the bottom of the valley, a thick, strong current river inches before your toes. If you hadn’t slowed down you would’ve been in the frigid water and been swept away to who knows where. Hypothermia and you’re dead.
An eery silence filled your ears. There was no groaning from the dead, no calling from Georgia, just the wind caressing against the towering trees. You took a moment to watch the orange and deep red crinkled leaves twirl through the air, most of them landing either around you or in the grey twisting river.
“Georgia?!” You dared to call out. You heard your voice laced with terror and discomfort echo throughout the valley. A few crows flew out of the tops of the forest around you. They cawed, filling in the silence. “Georgia..?”
You continued walking, deciding to walk down the river until you could find a safe way to cross. You wished to your lucky stars that there would be an abandoned bridge or a sturdy log that would allow you to find the other side of the river. And once you did find a safe passage, your next mission would be finding Georgia.
You stuffed your shaking, mud covered hands into your stiff pockets, the fingerless gloves with pulled strands did nothing to keep the chill off your brittle bones. The pit in your stomach grew larger the longer you walked, the hours that passed, the more by groaning you heard and avoided, taking different paths. Georgia not only had the map, but she also had most of the food as you decided to carry the sleeping bags and weapons. If neither of you found each other by nightfall, you would both be royally fucked.
It was now nightfall, and your bones ached with each step. You didn’t dare to call out for Georgia anymore, but you continued to look for the amber headed girl. In the dusk light, you watched your breath curl from your lips. A warning that it would be a long night and that winter was coming.
Hours later when the sun was gone and the moon took place in the starlit sky you were wrapped in two sleeping bags, huddled up on a thick branch of a gnarled oak tree. For the last half an hour you’ve been dozing off, head leaning against the bark, rope tied around your waist you didn’t fall off halfway through the night. You woke up to the sound of rustling, which made your eyes snap open and body go rigid.
Completely silent, you shifted to be able to see what was going on below you. Before climbing up the tree you had set a string full of garbage you found littered throughout the forest in a five-metre circle around the tree. A trip wire, something you learned from the group you were with a while back. With shallow breaths you held onto the large hunting knife you’d taken from a corpse last week. It had come in handy for close range attacks if you were brave enough.
Then you saw it. The flash of clothing beneath the moonlight. There was greasy hair, amber and a dark chestnut, both shimmering so bright. Your breath fell short when you saw that it was Georgia and that she was limping and being supported by another person not too far from you. You couldn’t tell if she was conscious or not. You exchanged the knife for the shotgun, your oily forehead softening with fear. You pushed past it, knowing you’ll never forgive yourself if you didn’t jump down to save your companions ass.
So you did. You left your pack in the tree, shotgun clutched under your armpit as you jumped to the ground, then leaned against the bark for shadow cover. You waited, waited to see if Georgia and who ever it was would stumble over the line of string garbage. You waited.
The sound of clanging and muttered curses was like music to your ears. They were in front of you, on the ground. It was a man, you noticed a familiar accent as he cursed the god that reigned in the sky. But there was no sound from Georgia, not even a soft whimper as she hit the muddy ground. You walked forward, squaring your shoulders as the muzzle of the gun was pointed towards the stranger’s head. You cocked it, the moonlight pushing through the trees, cutting shapes and patterns across his face. He twisted his body to see who was pointing the gun at him. His eyes, hollow but filling with fear, started from the ground, then dragged up to your shadowed face.
You could see every curve of his face, the way his mouth was agape at the sight of the gun, how his left cheekbone was covered in mud and a few spots of blood. Just like you, he was grimy, hair greasy, clothing reeked.
He was quite handsome, to say the least.
You didn’t have time to think about that. Maybe in another life, where everything was normal and you were happy. Where you didn’t run for a living. Where you smelt like flowers or wore fresh clothes, or actually smiled. Smiled like he did just then when the moonlight shifted across your face.
Rhetorical Ink: Game of Thrones “The Dragon and the Wolf” Review
**SPOILERS OF FIRE AND ICE BELOW**
Can you believe it’s already here? I swear, the shorter schedule is just rough. Again, as I did with the last episode, I watched before writing; taking notes and deciding on…
My Top 10 Thoughts on Game of Thrones Season 7, Episode 7:
10. Can we all agree that Brienne and The Hound’s concern for Arya was absolutely PRECIOUS?! Of all the reunions on that “march” to the dragon pits, Brienne and The Hound’s were my favorite. His sheer reactions to hearing about Arya were just adorable; our little Hound has a heart! And what strides we’ve made in two seasons with them. Here’s to them hopefully fighting alongside each other in the future…maybe with Arya there too!
9. As epic as it was for Dany to make her entrance on Drogon, it true Targaryan fashion, points in the pits to Brienne for finally calling out to Jaime about “Loyalty” and how it matters now that Winter has come. Jon Snow may have “done goofed” spilling the beans about him being loyal to Dany, but Brienne made up for it for setting it straight to Jaime that loyalties aren’t as important as survival. After the end of this episode, how many of us think Jaime is going to take Brienne’s advice and ride up to meet up with her for the final battle?
8. Can we just give Peter Dinklage and Lena Heady all of the Emmys now? That scene between Tyrion and Cersei was just layered with complex emotions, unspoken glances, and a beautiful series of lines back and forth to cut to what they both truly care about: Family. In their own twisted, warped ways, they care only about their families. It was a scene I had been waiting for all season and one that was a highlight of it.
7. The first of many “FINALLY” moments in this episode: RIP Peter Baelish.
I will admit that I loved Peter’s character up until he left with Sansa for Winterfell. His entire plot ot twist the siblings against each other had me questioning why the girls didn’t talk to Bran…why they were after each other…turns out, they did go to Bran. And he shared everything with them.
I will admit, it was cringe-worthy seeing Peter start to cry, begging for his life. But after all the hell he’s put those girls through, it was morbidly satisfying to see him go. His clever plans have no room in a game of survival in the War for the Dawn.
6. FINALLY, Jaime takes Brienne’s words to heart or doesn’t and is furious that Cersei has no intentions of helping in the war to come. He makes a very strong case that they have to help to ensure their family’s future, but Cersei has clearly let her pride and ego override any other reasoning…FINALLY Jaime takes leave of King’s Landing, riding north. I just loved the little touch of snow starting to take hold on King’s Landing.
I had read a spoiler where it showed Cersei would have a miscarriage…we DO NOT see that here…so as far as we know, she is still pregnant going into Season 8…we’ll see where that goes.
5. There are a lot of duos I would like to see take Game of Thrones into a spinoff series: Mark down Sam and Bran as one of them! Seriously, I love that Bran trusts Sam’s intellect and honesty and ability to keep a secret. Well, at least, let’s see how this HUGE BOMBSHELL stays a secret come Season 8!
4. FINALLY, we see Rhaegar, who looks quite a lot like a more mature Viserys, and Lyanna’s wedding…it was a lovely little flashback, but no time for that, because–
3. FINE. ALL. YYYYYY…..We all knew it was coming, didn’t we?
Dany and Jon hook up as we learn Jon’s REAL name: Aegon Targaryan…
…clearly, Ned was like, “Nope. Jon sounds better.” I love Bran clarifying that Jon should have been a Sand, since he was born in Dorne, and Sam was all, “Nope, he’s the true heir to the throne!”
The boat scene was brief, but if it’s a taste of Wolf and Dragon love to come? I’m in. Also, Jon Snow was friggin’ ADORABLE when he was hesitating at the door, and then Dany was all, “Come on in, sirrrrrr” with her eyes.
Honorable mention to Tyrion, whohad that “Myfriendsarehookinguparen’tthey?” face…maybe he sees how this could be an emotional compromise down the road already?
2. And…uhm, FINALLY, after seven full seasons….
”The Wall Comes Crumbling Down!”
By a friggin’ blue flame undead torch, no less! Seriously, the flame on the dragon was terrifying…there’s also apparent holes in the dragon’s wings already, meaning the dragon is decaying…so does that mean Viserion can only be rode for a limited time, until he’ll be limited to “ground use” only? Not that he won’t be a force to be reckoned with them, either!
After all this time, it was bittersweet and sad to see the Wall finally come down…and SO scary to see this never-ending army of the dead, swarming south…and did anyone notice Thoros in the undead army? I thought I did, but can’t be sure.
1. My father looked at me at the end of the episode, as my jaw was agape, and said, “So, now we wait a year?” Yeah, dad. Yeah. A YEAR.
But a nicely satisfying season finale to me, that leaves a LOT open for Season 8…now we just have to wait a year for it. *collapses*
Cait likes to tell gross stories. She’s hilarious
Our table got a tale about a dead creature swarmed and surrounded by ants in a cheap hotel in Kathmandu where they paid extra to have their own bathroom. Another table got a story about filming the dinner party in “Paris” with real food but it took 3 days to film instead of 1 and the food got super gross and stinky by the 3rd day
Summary: The Dark God and the Solar Queen are fierce rivals, both striving to create the most energy to power the world they’re building. When a cruel trick by Ryan goes a little too far, he’s forced to face just how important Gavin’s become to him without him realising.
“Nah it’s just recording. We’ll edit this out later.”
“Fine, let’s just get started then.”
“Please state your name for the record.”
“My name is Professor Mohammad bin Hukukk”
“What is your profession?”
“I am a professor of Xeno Culture at New Harvard University.”
“Was this your profession during the Texar-Hakara war?”
“No, no my profession was a Orbital Drop Trooper, Sergeant, First Terran Marines.”
“Can you give us an explanation of what your job entailed?”
“We drop in, we fight our way out.”
“You took part in the fighting?”
“During the assault on Rygel Nine, were you with the Marines?”
“Yes, yes I was.”
“Can you describe it for me?”
“Long. Muddly. Bloody.”
“Come on Professor Hukukk, you can do better.”
“You’re making a documentary?”
“Actually we’re making a movie. We want it to be as close to reality as possible. From what we’ve heard even the folks back at Galactic Studios won’t need to embellish much.”
“How much sway do you have with the studio?”
“I’m a Senior Producer.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
annoyed sigh from off camera
“I have a lot of influence. I’m pretty much in charge of this production.”
“Then I want your personal assurance that the names and places I tell you won’t be changed. These men deserve that, and much more besides.”
“You have my word.”
“I want a copy of this transcript immediately after the interview.”
“Fine. Can we please move on to what I came here for?”
“Alright, ask away.”
“Professor, tell me about the lead up to, and the battle at, Rygel Nine.”
“As I said I was with the First Marines. Specifically with Third Company, Second Battalion.”
“The infamous Riley’s Rangers.”
“The very same. Our CO was Captain Hank Riley. Tough old bastard, like a father to every man in that Company. Underneath him were the three Lieutenants. Jacobs, Stern, and Gibbs. Gibbs was a First Lieutenant, second in command of the Company. I was transferred to them two weeks before drop. Just enough time to learn the names of the Captain and Lieutenants, get used to my unit, then suddenly we’re in orbit over Rygel Nine. Texar-Hakara world. The first of their original worlds we were invading. Earth was… she gone by that point. Burned by the bugs. Some of the men talked quietly about what their plans were for when they went home. Most considered that bad luck.
"I was sitting with my squad when Captain Riley gave us his speech. Hold on I brought a recording of it…”
a new voice enters the conversation, only the slightest hiss of static mars the audio file
“Men, today we’re dropping into enemy territory, real enemy territory. It’s fortified and they’re waiting for us. We have never dropped onto a world like this before. All Texar-Hakara are to be considered armed and dangerous until the local hive mind is taken out. That’s our job. We’re Riley’s Rangers for a reason. We drop into the meanest parts of enemy territory to do the most damage. That’s what we’re doing today. Stick together, work with your squad. You’ll come out of this just fine.”
the voice stops, as does the faint static
“When Marine Shock Troops drop into enemy held territory the CO sometimes plays some heavy metal or hard rock or something to get the men pumped up. It works too, wipes away some of the fear. Just enough so that the men can still function as they strap themselves into what is essentially a big bullet, that’s going to be fired out of an under powered railgun directly at the planet’s surface. Captain Riley always played Hard Corps . Old song, but damn good. The Captain came on, told us he’d see us on the other side.
"The Captain never made it down. Anti-air took out the command pod on the way down. Captain Riley and Lieutenants Jacobs and Stern were wiped. Never even heard a peep. Thankfully SOP said Gibbs had to be in a different pod, and he was.
"Lieutenant Gibbs took command. Good man, solid. Exactly the right guy to replace the Captain in combat. He got us up, armed, and organized, and he did it fast. My squad was on the far left flank with the rest of First Platoon. Our job was to hold the line and secure an exit line for Second Platoon, who would be handling the assault on the hive mind.”
“Is this where things started to go wrong?”
“Things started to go wrong when the goddamn brass decided that they wanted to drop us in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the middle of a goddamn Texar-Hakara staging ground.”
“Damn straight. The first we realize that we’re in the middle of another grand cockup is when Third Platoon got hit by fifty Texar-Hakara warrior drones. They took sixty percent casualties in an hour. We were told to reinforce them and dig in while First Platoon scouted the area. First platoon got jumped two hundred meters out, every last one of them dead, including Lieutenant Gibbs. Now I’m in command of what we can only reasonably call ourselves an over-strength platoon. And we’re smack in the middle of a staging ground for the Third Hakaran Army.
"We radioed for support, and of course the nearest supporting elements were five klicks away. Through the largest concentration of Texar-Hakara on the continent. And we didn’t even have a direct line to them, because we were supposed to be linking up with another force twenty klicks to the north, and our communications were only keyed to Orbital Command and transmit a confirmatory ping to other Terran forces. Originally it was intended to keep us beneath the radar, so to speak. To allow us to get close to the hive mind without giving away our position. Instead what it did was effectively cut us off from the rest of the Army. Orbital was too busy to relay our messages for us.
"I was working with our tech guy, Corporal Swanson, to bypass the block on the radio when the first wave hit us. We knew the Texar-Hakara were out there, and we’d dug in feverishly. We weren’t equipped to hold the line against hundreds of enemies, but each soldier had been issued the standard anti-tunneling package. Slam a spike into the bottom of a foxhole, and the SATUFP, Strategic Anti-Tunneling Unit for Fixed Positions, shoots out thousands of nanomite cables throughout the ground, sets them firmly in place, connects them, and runs a million volt current through them. Try and tunnel into the foxhole, and you get an ugly zap. It had forced the bugs to engage us on the surface, and we set up a few some meters in front of our position. It was a good way of encouraging the bastards to come up in front of us.
"And holy mother of god did they come up in front of us. Hundreds of them came charging out of the forest, no warning, no sound except the clicking of their legs and their blasts of plasma. We had entrenched defenses, some light plasma machineguns, and the rest of us had laser carbines, plasma grenades, the usual outfit. It was a brutal fight, they kept coming even when they should have been dead. We mowed them down by the dozen, and they swarmed over the bodies of their dead. We started to take casualties as they got closer. Their accuracy was shit, but the hive mind keeps them on task, and their sheer weight of numbers often carries the day.
"It got to hand to hand at one point. They were just coming faster than we could shoot them. Vibroblades and Power Armor versus rock hard chitin and mandibles. Four Privates were MIA after that, just too ripped up to be positively IDed or POWs, the bugs were still taking prisoners at this point. Power Armor can stop a lot, plasma, lasers, bullets. Knives just bounce off. But bug mandibles have crushing force the likes of which our suits just can’t handle. I was hunkered down with Private Tulman and Corporal Swanson. We’re pouring fire into the bugs. Tulman’s Plasma MG is really what kept them off us. Then they swarmed over their corpses, and on top of us. Swanson got ripped apart. Three of them grabbed on and pulled. He was screaming and swearing and shooting to the last, but he died bloody. Tulman lit those three up the second Swanson’s vitals went flat. One of them jumped on me. These things are ugly up close. They look like short ants. Two main body pods instead of three, six big legs, six beady eyes, spikes everywhere, a plasma rifle attached to the underside of the head. I stabbed into the eyes with my combat knife. Despite what some idiot writers will tell you, a nanometer edge on your blade just makes it that much easier to break. It doesn’t matter if it can slide through titanium, in combat you’re not cutting titanium, you’re fighting a living being that is going to be moving, and when your edge breaks off, you’re dead.
"I was a Sergeant. I had a responsibility to be better than my men. Cleaner, smarter, tougher, meaner, and everything in between. Part of that is having your gear perfectly stashed and equipped. So when I say my knife had a perfect edge on it, not too thin not too dull, I’m not kidding. I stabbed straight through that bug’s eye and into its bug brain. And that bastard kept coming. So I shoved my plasma pistol up against it’s torn up eye and pumped six shots into the brain. It collapsed halfway through cutting my arm off. The connectors to my left arm were shot. My helmet’s HUD was flickering in and out and the faceplate was cracked. I was bleeding, not a lot but a little. And the bug had shredded my injury suppressants, so it hurt like hell.
"Most of my men weren’t much better. We couldn’t take another wave like that, but moving was damn risky. The way I saw it, the bugs knew we were here. It was only a matter of time until another force came by to wipe my three quarter strength company off the face of the universe. So we had two options. Stay and die, or leave and die when we ran into a bigger bug patrol. The men made their voices clear. They were prepared to die. And the way they saw it, they had a better chance of killing more bugs here than they did moving around. So we hunkered down. We piled up bug corpses to use as sandbags. We stripped the bodies of our comrades for parts and ammo. We envied the bastards actually.”
“We envied them. By this point in the war-”
“We traded the Yungling for it. Standard issue on every fleet ship. Upload your neural patterns, and when your body died you got a new one, right off the printer. Commercializing DNA sequencing, one thing the twenty first century did right. As soon as those bastards were confirmed KIA, they were regrown. A hour later they were safe and sound back up on the ship. Dying isn’t fun, I’ll tell you that. But there’s a certain peace that comes from knowing it isn’t final. More likely to throw yourself on a grenade and save your squad. More likely to hold the line against impossible odds, or volunteer for a suicide mission. Best thing to ever happen to the human war machine.
"We hunker down, shore up our defenses, and we kill another group of bugs that wanders by. Fifty odd insects in that one, all dead. Along with fourteen men. Quarter strength now, about fourteen of us total. We keep doing the same thing. Kill a few bugs, a few of us buy a ticket back up to the ship. It gets to the point where it’s just me and Tulman left, out of an entire company. But we’re surrounded by bug corpses. Must have been two hundred at least.”
“Four hundred thirty.”
“Official after action report says at this point it is estimated your Company had killed four hundred and thirty bugs.”
“Never read it.”
“It was declassified sixty years ago, when revival tech went public.”
“Wasn’t interested in reading it. Dying isn’t fun, and remembering death… it changes you.”
“I’m sorry, please continue.”
“Next wave is about a hundred of the six legged freaks. They come at us like bats out of hell. Tulman dies quick, plasma to the face. I’m left manning the plasma MG with one hand. It clicks dry, no more charge. I can’t change the ammo by myself. It’s made to be completely operable by one man, but one man with two working hands. I charge up four plasma grenades, prime them, slap them onto two ammo boxes for the plasma MG, and run full tilt at the bugs. I jump on top of one, and the box blows. Plasma everywhere, burning the hell out of everything and everyone. That’s when I died.
"I wake up on the UHS Washington DC. She was named after the battle in the old earth capitol, back when she represented the United… Statues I think it was.”
“That makes more sense. Anyways, that was my part in the Battle of Rygel Nine.”
“Nothing about the awards you received?”
“They were after the fact.”
“You received the Medal of Honor for recording the deaths of over twenty men. Without that they might not have been confirmed KIA, and never revived.”
“I did what any man there would have done for me.”
“Thank you Professor, that’s all I have.”
“Don’t forget these names, those men that were torn to shreds by the Texar-Hakara, the ones that were MIA? If you can’t be confirmed as KIA we can’t revive you, having two of the exact same person in the universe, the exact same memories, the exact same fingerprints and DNA. Same loved ones, same bank accounts. What do you tell the one that turns out to have been a POW for ten years. Sorry, there’s another one of you that’s been with your family the entire time? No, no we can’t do that. They were permed.”
“Permanently killed. Permadeath. Never revived. Privates Rodger P. Ackleman, Reginald Puller, George H. Killroy, and Yassah B. Hukukk.”
I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches...
Chapter 64 - Jesus, Doll-face, let me just hold your f*ckin’ hand
When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit… Masterlist
Chapter 64 - Jesus, Doll-face, let me just hold your f*ckin’ hand
[When Blake bumps into Negan in the hallway, fluff ensues…]
It was late evening and after a long sleep, getting herself back to rights, Blake was now wandering alone down one of the long corridors of the Sanctuary, heading towards the canteen, following the request of her rumbling stomach.
It was good to be back.
And as gloomy and dank as the place sometimes could be, it felt so much more like home to her than being back at Alexandria ever had.
Blake, despite her throbbing head and aching body, had today, managed to take a shower, getting changed afterwards into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a tight black sweater. Her hair now hung loosely over her shoulders, her cheeks finally having regained a little colour.
She felt ok. A little groggy but ok.
Better at least than when she had been pushed down a flight of stairs, that was for sure.
After another lazy make out session with Negan this morning after her mark remarks about spanking, the dark-haired Saviour had muttered some bullshit excuse about having some business to attend to, which Blake most likely assumed either ironing someone’s face….or threatening someone.
“This is impossible,” Garrus murmured. A map of Menae sprawled in front of him, the dull red of Reaper-controlled regions pressing against the silver borders of the remaining Turian outposts.
Palaven hung heavily in the sky. Even though his back was turned, he could still feel the stares of the dead swarming across space and lodging themselves in his shoulders.
“I need someone,” said a voice in the distance, and Garrus felt as though his heart was bursting and compressing at the same time. He cautioned himself that it might not be her, even though he had no doubt that it was. “I don’t care who, as long as they can get us the Turian resources we need.”
Garrus’s eyes turned from his map to his sniper rifle. He took a slow breath. Maybe impossible was too strong a word.
“I have sort of… been working with the British Men of
Mary’s declaration gave Sam and Dean pause, but it
absolutely knocked all of the breath from your lungs. She was working with those monsters?
“You, um… what?” You were sure Sam was having flashbacks to
the time he spent with Toni, and the torture he endured. But no one knew about
the similar flashbacks you were having. No one in this room knew about the time
you spent over seas.
1. This is consensual
2. Don’t ignore the gnome, look him in the eyes
3. Meet my step-sister, her name is Margaret and she lives in that mirror
4. Briny depths
5. Dark Owl Records is having a sale on bees that swarm in the shape of dead political figures
Summer!!!!!!!!! I’m glad that Seattle is not a place that’s swarmed by mosquitos or I’d be dead every time when I do outdoor photoshoots…….orz Though the thing I enjoy the most is the longer daylight XD
The White Walkers marching South towards the Wall.
Bran crosses the Wall, meets with Edd. (Bran was at the
studio filming with other “Team Starks”, though apparently he was
filming a scene at the Castle Black that day.)
Jon receives a raven from Dany, she’s summoning the lords of
Westeros. Jon and Davos decide to go because they need the dragonglass from
Jon leaves Sansa in charge of Winterfell.
Jon leaves Ghost at Winterfell, where he stays all season.
Jon and Davos arrive at Dragonstone. Tyrion meets them on
the beach, and the Dothraki take their ship. (Jon, Davos, Tyrion, Missandei
have all been filming together in Bilbao- widely believed to be the set of
Tyrion brings them to meet Dany, encountering Missandei and
Grey Worm on the way. The “throne room” contains a number of
Dothraki. (ALL have been spotted filming in Bilbao - widely believed to be the
set of Dragonstone.)
Dany and Jon meet. Dany demands he bend the knee, which he
refuses. Evidently, he discusses the WWs, but she doesn’t believe him. Tyrion
insists that Jon isn’t crazy.
Davos tries to mention Jon’s resurrection, but Jon dismisses
Dany respects Jon immediately, Jon to Dany maybe not as
Bran arrives at Winterfell. Meera returns home. (Bran has
been spotted on set with other “Team Starks”)
Arya arrives at Winterfell. (Arya has been spotted on set
with other “Team Starks”)
Sam leaves Oldtown for Winterfell with Gilly and baby Sam.
Jorah reunites with Dany at Dragonstone.
Jon receives a raven telling him that Bran and Arya are at
Jamie, Bronn, Tyrion and Davos have a secret meeting at some
point where Tyrion tries to persuade them to surrender to Dany, which Jamie
ignores. Unclear if this happens before or after Dany ambushes the Lannister
army. (Footage has been captured of Peter Dinklage and Liam Cunningham filming
together, appearing to be preparing a boat to leave the beach. This might be
them preparing to leave for the meeting. Another boat-beach scene has been
captured filming, again including Tyrion and Davos, but also Gendry!)
Gendry’s in Kings Landing making weapons, and he is found by
Davos. (Tyrion, Davos and Gendry have been filming together on a beach in
The party travels to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea by boat. Davos
stays behind while the others go wight hunting.
Jon leads a small force (himself, The Hound, Beric, Thoros,
Tormund, Jorah and Gendry (WHY?!) to capture a wight. (Scene set to be filmed
in Iceland in January includes 6 major characters.)
The team is attacked by the Night King’s army, including a
wight polar bear. The bear kills Thoros (apparently a slow death). (Thoros is
confirmed to return for season 7.)
They are surrounded on an island on a frozen lake and are
nearly overcome when Dany and her dragons show up. She flies most of the team
back to Eastwatch, but Jon is left behind.
Jon is almost killed, but Coldhands/Benjen arrives and sends
Jon off with his horse while continuing to fight the horde. Jon watches Benjen
swarmed by undead as he rides, half dead, to safety.
Viserion is killed and raised as the Night King’s mount.
Jon offers to lay down his title as KITN if Dany and her
forces will help against the WWs. This scene is private.
Sansa sentences Littlefinger to death, which Arya carries
Cersei awakens in a bed soaked with blood. The general
consensus is that she miscarries.
Sam and Bran figure out Jon’s heritage. He is apparently a
legitimised Targaryen named “Aegon”.
Jon and Dany have sex for the first time on a boat headed
The Wall falls at the end of the episode. The Night King
attacks the Wall with the reanimated Viserion. He now breathes blue flame.
Hello & welcome to this weekly deck tech. This week is something a bit more special, considering the recent news. As some of you may know, George A Romero died recently and I wanted to sort of pay my respects through this.
I love horror movies, it’s by far my favourite genre and it has shaped me as a person through the years. While I was going to film school to become a writer, Romero was one of my heroes; he brought something into the horror world that was amazing and game changing. Even though he stuck with the same kind of content, he was good at what he did and it showed that he was passionate about his work and creations. I still hope to become more like him and all of his work has a special place in my heart.
I know it doesn’t mean much, but for this week’s legacy deck tech I’ve thought I’d make it in his honour and talk about zombies. I don’t think this deck “exists” in the legacy meta, but I’ve tried to build up something that could fit the format, while being true to the horror icon. Let’s get into it!
Dawn of the Dead
As any good zombie deck, the main strategy is to go wide and swarm your enemy with an army of the dead. Death Baron pumps up all your undead horde (as well as skeletons) and gives them deathtouch so you can block very effectively or dissuate your opponent to block when you attack with your guys. This is sort of your end-game; you want to play a whole bunch of cheap & efficient zombies, and then pump them all up with lord effects to crash in with huge amount of damage.
Day of the Dead
Very similar to the last one, but this lord has another trick up it’s sleeve. While pumping all your zombies and generating a huge threat to your opponent, this card also let’s you bring some zombies back from your graveyard, which can be huge. You can generate a lot of card advantage through repetitive recursion and you’ll most likely end up getting more raw value than your opponent in the long run. Any removal spell that they’ve used is going to be retroactively negated and you’ll be able to consistently play zombies, over & over again.
Tales from the Darkside
You guys might know this card from standard, but it has potential across the formats. Being able to generate some sweet sweet zombie tokens by discarding some cards is great, especially in a deck that can use a lot of recursion. You can also get crazy card advantage with the second ability, drawing tons of cards with your horde of shambling dead.
Night of the Living Dead
This creepy crawler is just so amazing; you can bring it back over & over & over again; it never goes away. The only way your opponent can deal with this is by Swords to Plowshares it, and that doesn’t feel right.
Another Night of the Living Dead
Speaking of zombie that keeps coming back; this one costs a bit more but in the end it has the same result. Over & over you’ll bring this rotting corpse back to harass your opponent and pressure their life total. Being able to always bring back your horde is a big part of what makes the deck good and true to the zombie image.
Survival of the Dead
Yet another recursing zombie! This one is soooooooo good since it can always come back and it can bring back a friend along. If you have a bit of mana up when your opponent ends up dealing with it you can really out-value them by having an endless army of zombies coming into the battlefield, turn after turn.
Diary of the Dead
This card is amazing since it keeps track of what happened in the game before and makes up for it. If you’ve had quite a few zombies die already, or if you discarded some to get some tokens; this card will come into the battlefield HUGE. And if nothing happened so far, you’ll just get a 2/2 for 3cmc, which isn’t too great, but it still has an amazing second ability. You can easily overwhelm your opponent by casting some zombies, again & again, filling the board with tokens at the same time and causing an infestation of undead, slowly closing in on your opponent.
Land of the Dead
Not much to say here; it’s a land that is also a zombie! With a couple of lords out you can freely attack with a big man-land and it’s pretty flavourful! (also this is probably the only card that actually fits the title I’ve put with it…)
This sweet card brought to you by the Phyrexians will drive your opponent nuts! The only thing that can really mess up your plan with this deck is combos. There’s nothing you can do against someone storming off or casting a Griselbrand on turn 1, so you need a way to interact with those madmen. This card let’s you get rid of those pesky cards and you can re-use them later, basically bringing the count up to 8 discard spells. You also play some Duress or Thoughtseize on top of that if you want.
the Dark Half
Acting as a black Swords to Plowshares, this amazing new card gives very VERY good removal to mono-black decks in legacy. This is the go-to removal spell now instead of Smother, Vendetta, Dismember or Collective Brutality. You can hit almost every relevant creature of the format, making this a must to deal with any problematic card.
Side-Road of the Dead
Depending on your match-ups you might want to bring in some very special zombie cards. In any game that tends to go long, Endless Ranks of the Dead becomes a “you win” kind of card, being almost impossible to deal with (trust me, I’ve play the hell out of this in standard and if you can have this on the field for just a couple of turns it’s over). You can also bring in some Stromgald Crusader, Yixlid Jailer, Lifebane Zombie or even a Plaguebearer! There is TONS of zombies you can use in specific match-up, it’s really up to you.
So there you have it, my take on a Romero inspired deck for legacy. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did; I really had a good time going through all the zombie cards, trying to figure out which ones would work best and how to make a deck that would be viable, as well as pay homage to the iconic creatures. Next week we’ll get back into more normal deck techs with EDH. Now I’m probably going to binge watch zombie movies for the next few weeks and hope someone can continue the legacy of one of my heroes.
The words had fallen from Rick’s lips, still swollen from
staking his claim on her mouth, a proclamation that somehow still managed to be
a question, following an intense session of lovemaking that had somehow
occurred in the midst of a rapid fire strategy session with just the two of
them, where she had outlined the plan she had come up with for yet another
offensive against the ever looming shadow that the Saviors had cast over their
little corner of the end of the world.
It could have been accidental, given the softness of Rick’s
voice and the almost casual way he had spoken the words even as he had
attempted to catch his breath, but as Michonne sought his eyes, stunned into
silence, it was clear from the way his blue eyes blazed, and from everything
she knew about the man that was Rick Grimes, that it had been deliberate in
every way, and that he was not taking the phrase that was hanging in the air
For a moment, the words made no sense to Michonne, and all
she could do was meet his gaze as her mind struggled to comprehend just what he
was asking, and why he was asking it now.
They had been married long before had ever considered
consummating their relationship, and neither Michonne nor Rick had felt the
need to prove it in front of witnesses with the rings, the vows, or the white
dress normally associated with the start of such a union.
They didn’t need to make it official, but as Michonne’s
racing mind slowed down and allowed her to fully grasp the import of Rick’s
simple proposal, she realized that she, too, wanted to make it official.
In an uncertain world where nothing, not a day, not a person,
not a promise was guaranteed, where they lived their lives walking on a tightrope
of danger with monsters both dead and living swarming just underneath, where
they discussed plans for a future they may not live to see carried out,
Michonne knew that one of the few things that she could count on was that what
she and Rick had was rare, undeniable, and certain.
She wanted Rick with her, officially, unofficially,
physically, mentally and legally in every way she could be with him, for
however long they had left.
So she answered him in the only way that could fully express
everything she was thinking and the suddenly overwhelming emotions flooding her
very being, and she took his face gently in her hands, her finger grazing the
stubble that had just ruined her skin, so she could bring her lips to his.
Her murmur of ‘yes’ melted into the heat of his mouth, but she could
feel the responding exuberance from him, and it was as if he was breathing life
into her as he deepened their kiss, as if he was memorizing the word and the
way she had said it with each brush of their tongues.