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One may see how this world goes with no eyes. Hawke walked through the seedy streets of Lowtown, making her way back to her home. The dusk painted the parchment-coloured walls rich reds and golds, and by the time they reached her mansion, the noble stones would be swathed in blue-black night.
Isabela walked at Hawke's right, her long fingers nestling Hawke's elbow, as was her custom. Hawke looked to her lover with a half-grin. Her body was made for sin, from her face, tanned red and bathed in redder light, her arms strong with a life spent pulling herself back to her feet, her legs well-formed and powerful from her favourite pursuits.
Her eyes, too, caught the light, and Hawke's deep blue eyes were drawn to the other woman's gold. There was more to those eyes than what appeared in them readily. More than their beauty, their twinkling mischief, and even the way they misted when her smile was too happy.
Yet they weren't the eyes Hawke really wanted. Hawke had memorized a face that would never look at her with the adorati
Nothing untowardEvelyn set down the cloth she had been using to polish her name plate. She looked at the desk ornament again with pride, feeling the weight of the duty her title set on her strong shoulders.
Evelyn Fallon Chief of Police
She sat down at her desk, straightening the burnt orange epaulets on her shoulders. She deposited the cloth in her chest of drawers and fetched a pen and stationary emblazoned with the NYPD insignia at the header.
"To Sen. Kirk Orson-"
A soft knock at the door roused her from her train of thought. Through the frosted glass with her name painted on, Evelyn saw an outline that brought a little half-smile to the corner of her mouth.
"Come in, Donna," she said in a businesslike tone, her thick Southie Boston accent belying without a doubt that she was not from the metropolis she proudly served.
Donna opened the door slowly, and walked in with her cap under one arm. Though her posture was perfect, almost military, her smile was mischievous.
Evelyn looked into Donna's
Dr. Chakwas and Commander Shepard RomanceDr. Chakwas finished bandaging Shepard's arm, her skillful fingers and light touch avoiding causing undue pain. She peeled off her gloves and threw them away.
"You're lucky, commander," Chakwas said with a hint of reprimand. "The shot passed clean through the arm. Shouldn't be any permanent damage. It might not even scar."
She turned back to the cot and typed a simple command into the robotic scanning wand, which made a pass over the bed, disinfecting the area.
"Do you need anything else, commander?"
Shepard looked away, a thousand thoughts running through her mind. She took a deep, steadying breath that shuddered at the end with a subtle sob. Shepard ignored the tears that sat around her middle. They wouldn't reach her eyes, but they tinged her voice as she spoke to the aged doctor.
"Maybe I do, Doc," she said, her eyes trained on the wall.
Chakwas heard the uncharacteristic uncertainty in Shepard's voice. She walked over to Shepard's right, and laid a gentle hand on Shepar
PreloadThirtyseven sat on the edge of his bed, kicked off his shoes and fell heavily into his pillow, not bothering to peel off the white coveralls he normally couldn't wait to get out of. He was exhausted.
He lay staring at the ceiling, the last few hours of the day still fresh in his mind, although today blended seamlessly into yesterday, and last week, and a month ago. Or more. He'd lost track.
Each day played out pretty much the same, he awoke in the same grey six by nine room, showered, dressed and ate the breakfast that was delivered to him, then he made his way to the simulator. Here he learned how to ride motorcycles, slalom cars, canyon race executive jets, operate forklifts, tractor trailers, maglifts and exo-skel loaders. He'd logged countless hours in freighters, cruise liners and speedboats, gliders and heavy cargo planes, jump-packs and helicopters with countless different rotor configurations.
He had no idea what they were training him for, or even who they were, he never saw a
Octonauts: Octonauts vs. OctonautsOctonauts: Octonauts vs. Octonauts
Hello everyone! With a presentation of the Octonauts, but from another world
The plot is based on the humanoid world where all people are half animal, there a village on an island where a group of friends called "Octonauts" which also save marine life, one day I found an antique mirror which takes Octonauts to the world we all know there, know the captain barnacles, kwazii, pepe, dashi, shellington, Tunip, tweak and Professor Inkling, who realize that these young people are like them in almost everything, then the two rescue teams try to investigate marine life on this strange mirror
Snow bear: She's a bear-girl 14 years, leader of the Octonauts huamnoide world, despite his young age and knows many things I should know about a charter captain, his dream is to be a charter captain, is the reflection of barnacles captain who everyone mistakes her father's friends always joke with her Snow because it is the most serious of the group and often angry easil
[FR] The End is a waveIl regardait au loin. Quelque chose bougeait dans l'horizon miroitant. On aurait dit une immense vague, quelque tsunami qui se précipitait sur lui, mais c'était si loin...
Sans même avoir à le demander, ses implants rétiniens entrèrent en action et lui fournirent une vision rapprochée de la chose. Il s'agissait non pas d'une vague d'eau mais d'une déferlante de machines distordues mêlées de moisissure. Un genre de magma mi-organique mi-mécanique.
La masse semblait avancer à la fois très rapidement et à la fois très doucement. Son Intelligence Artificielle Personnelle calcula alors la vitesse de la masse en mouvement : 230 km/h. Une vraie bombe. Il recula sous l'effet de la peur. Il voulait faire quelque chose, mais quoi ?
Ses implants-mémoires lui indiquèrent qu'il n'existait aucun remède à la Corruption, comme l'homme avait appelé cette maladie. Une dégénérescence des imp
Psychic Menace 1As DBZ and the others arrived, they saw that the aliens from the news were looking straight at them, as if they were waiting
Wes: So you finally showed up!
DBZ: Who are you?
Wes: I am Wes, and i lead this team! I'm hear for the Mega Amulet!
As Wes finished, DBZ noticed Mew hiding behind him
Mew: Those are the guy's i'm trying to get away from.
Wes: So shorty, are you going to hand it over? Or do we have to get rough?
Azuk: Come on Wes, lets just crush em!!
DBZ: Why do you want the amulet so badly?
Wes: It belongs to my master, Mewtwo. With it, i hope to free him from the alternate dimension he is imprisoned in.
Mew: Mewtwo is a vile conqueror of worlds. I sealed him away centuries ago.
DBZ: I'll give you one chance. Leave this planet, now!
Wes: Hahahaha!!! You think that will frieghten me? Prepare to die, ignorant fool!
Vech: Hold on a moment Wes!
A tall man with metallic parts looked at DBZ, his red eye glowing and beeping
Vech: This one has a very high power level. I advise caution.
Psychic Menace 2Azuk looked over to see Wes fall to DBZ's attack
Azuk: Wes?! Hey guy's, the redhead is who we need to kill!!
The other aliens turned and started rushing toward DBZ. They all started throwing attacks from every direction, just for them to be avoided by DBZ, who then retaliated by pushing them all away with a shockwave
Paff: Piff, we may need to do it!
Both Piff and Paff held their hands up, and a large energy ball formed above the two. However, before they could attack, DBZ kick them both in the stomach. They both fell to the ground, dead from the fierce impact
Azuk tried to hit DBZ from behind, but DBZ punched him in the spine and threw him away
DBZ turned to see Starla perform a strange technique, which surrounded them both in a pink energy field
Starla: Well? Aren't you mesmerized by my beauty~?
DBZ: ......No! Not really!
DBZ then grabbed Starla and threw her into Azuk, both of them dying from the collision. The pink energy field d
TF Challenge Week ThreeDAY FIFTEEN: Dragon
Clad in armor, a paladin from Arkmoor and his squire were riding horseback into the Galago Mountains west of the castle. In search of a quest, Laramore and Romeo were chatting quietly.
"Just think, Romeo... the townsfolk will be speaking of how great our deeds were! In the taverns and the village squares, the bard's would tell our tale..."
"Yes, Sir Laramore, they will speak of you for ages." Romeo tugged on his horse's reigns as it moved a little too far ahead of the paladin's lead. "And I might get an honorable mention."
With a heroic laugh, Laramore waved the thought away. "Now, now... don't fret, my friend. You are as much a part of this mission as anyone. Even the great Odrem of Kalabar couldn't do anything without his Cabar at his side."
Romeo smiled with a sigh.
As the men crested the next hill, they spotted a woman running away from a mountain pass. She had a panicked expression across her face, and a tra
Dr. Chakwas and Commander Shepard - ScarsShepard sighed contentedly, nudging Chakwas' shoulder with her nose. In response to the nuzzle, Dr. Chakwas flipped onto her side. She caressed Shepard's face, her thumb gently stroking the younger woman's cheek.
She leaned close, her hot breath sending Shepard into shivers as Chakwas slowly planted a soft peck on her lips.
Shepard kissed her more deeply, with sweet, lingering kisses. They were gentle kisses, good morning kisses.
"Hello," murmured Dr. Chakwas with a wry smile.
She fixed a tender kiss on the tip of Shepard's nose. Shepard made a little sigh and flopped on her back. Chakwas eased her torso over Shepard's, her left hand brushing the stray hair from Shepard's face, her right stroking Shepard's arm.
"Thanks, Chakwas," Shepard muttered.
"Of course," Chakwas said in a soft, chuckling voice. She gave Shepard another light kiss. "I've wanted to be with you for years."
A look of consternation crossed Shepard's face.
"The scars didn't faze you?"
The old doctor appeared confused.
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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