N3v3rM0r3
Ezekiel
Pizza Box
RPM
Hos
rush99999
tadcfnaf
Syrenrei
Zeus23-240
Penny Member
STATUS: Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad. 17 days ago
Status
Recent Statuses
17 days ago
Current
Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad.
3
likes
25 days ago
She wanted to read, she wanted to write, but the main thing she wanted was something to fight
4
likes
1 yr ago
Make it clear that you don't need him to be reading Dante tomorrow. Also suggest it would be fun if you had a private language that you could use to mock English speakers in secret.
5
likes
2 yrs ago
Luckily history suggests an infinite ability for people to be shit heads ;)
1
like
3 yrs ago
Achmed the Snake
1
like
Bio
Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.
Most Recent Posts
American Air lines flight 1450, non-stop to Seattle departed at 125 pm. Given the security theater involved that still meant they only made it with a few minutes to spare despite the early start. The gray panel van that delivered them to the airport was beyond nondescript. Eleanor had worked a charm into the windows and doors that made it actively difficult for people to notice the thing. It did result in rather more near collisions than she was entirely comfortable with but that was a small price to pay to avoid being pulled over when you were hauling illegal weapons, or a possessed child chained with silver manacles to an exorcism. Police took a dim and uneducated view of such things. Drivers did tend to notice it when it became a direct obstruction, instinctively swerved away with a curse and then found their attention drawn away moments later. Thus it was that no one noticed the eclectic group climb out of the van when it reached Dulles airport. Eleanor frowned slightly as Clive hopped out, hefting two large duffles, heavy enough that the suspension creaked noticeably as it relaxed. She wondered how much armament he was carting about, but felt it would be discourteous to ask. Besides, in their line of work, there really was no kill like overkill. The remaining team members climbed out after him, carrying their own luggage. Most of it looked fairly nondescript though Eleanor suspected that their collected luggage contained more weapons, conventional or otherwise, than any TSA agent would be comfortable seeing on one flight. Her eyes fell on Maël as he disembarked, ducking to keep his head from striking the top of the rear door. In his case, he was the weapon and the thought gave her a queasy feeling. Well few people in her line of work lived long enough to die in bed.
They each waited for a minute before setting out, breaking up their departure from the nondescription field, as Emmaline had jokingly named it when Eleanor had explained it to her, giving the impression that they were not a group to any casual observers. Eleanor went last just after Val. The pair of them had first class tickets whereas the males were condemned to economy. The practice had a number of benefits including the fact that a plane would wait longer before departing if the stragglers were first class, plus there was champagne and legroom.
Check in proceeded quickly for Eleanor, a slight delay as she declared her own firearm a Sig Sauer P220, but it was registered properly and declared so it was little more complicated than checking a few extra boxes on one of the customer screens. The fact that the bullets were micro-etched with banishing invocations was, thankfully, unnoticed in the the polite inspection. Printers whired and boarding passes were produced with polite smiles and friendly well wishes. Dressed in her business suit and carrying a briefcase she looked no different than a thousand other low level executives off to talk about interest rate returns or negative gearing investments or... whatever. So much for the glamorous life of the secret occultist. She was escorted onto the 737 and took her seat in the spacious first class seats, accepting a glass of champagne from the pretty stewardess. Eleanor watched her go envious of the younger woman's body, eternal youth was something you could have, if you were willing to take it. She hoped she would always find the price too high.
As though summoned by that unwholesome thought, Val appeared and checked her ticket to confirm that she was seated in the chair across from Eleanor. Val looked much less like she belonged in first class than Eleanor did but it wouldn't be a problem. Airline staff saw far stranger things than a somewhat scruffy looking passenger with a pricey ticket. Eleanor raised her glass of champagne in ironic salute and waited for the younger woman to take her seat.
"I just wanted to check in with you and see how you are doing with..." Eleanor paused thinking of what exactly she was checking in about. The drugs? The murder? Being knew to a group as strange as this one? Best to leave a dangling pointer and let the girl drive it from there.
"...with everything," she concluded.
@Rapid Reader
They each waited for a minute before setting out, breaking up their departure from the nondescription field, as Emmaline had jokingly named it when Eleanor had explained it to her, giving the impression that they were not a group to any casual observers. Eleanor went last just after Val. The pair of them had first class tickets whereas the males were condemned to economy. The practice had a number of benefits including the fact that a plane would wait longer before departing if the stragglers were first class, plus there was champagne and legroom.
Check in proceeded quickly for Eleanor, a slight delay as she declared her own firearm a Sig Sauer P220, but it was registered properly and declared so it was little more complicated than checking a few extra boxes on one of the customer screens. The fact that the bullets were micro-etched with banishing invocations was, thankfully, unnoticed in the the polite inspection. Printers whired and boarding passes were produced with polite smiles and friendly well wishes. Dressed in her business suit and carrying a briefcase she looked no different than a thousand other low level executives off to talk about interest rate returns or negative gearing investments or... whatever. So much for the glamorous life of the secret occultist. She was escorted onto the 737 and took her seat in the spacious first class seats, accepting a glass of champagne from the pretty stewardess. Eleanor watched her go envious of the younger woman's body, eternal youth was something you could have, if you were willing to take it. She hoped she would always find the price too high.
As though summoned by that unwholesome thought, Val appeared and checked her ticket to confirm that she was seated in the chair across from Eleanor. Val looked much less like she belonged in first class than Eleanor did but it wouldn't be a problem. Airline staff saw far stranger things than a somewhat scruffy looking passenger with a pricey ticket. Eleanor raised her glass of champagne in ironic salute and waited for the younger woman to take her seat.
"I just wanted to check in with you and see how you are doing with..." Eleanor paused thinking of what exactly she was checking in about. The drugs? The murder? Being knew to a group as strange as this one? Best to leave a dangling pointer and let the girl drive it from there.
"...with everything," she concluded.
@Rapid Reader
-237
-237
-236
Kris had to work hard to keep her teeth from chattering. Her native Daggerfall endured hard winters from time to time but nothing like this. Winters in Skyrim were famously harsh but the campfire stories hadn't prepared her for the brutal reality. She had to admit that a decade of campaigning in Cyrodill and Valenwood had done little to remind her of her northern roots.
"We are Imperial spies come to murder Ulfric Stormcloak in his bed, now let us in or kill us, I'm too cold to care much which," Kris retorted grumpily. The guards roared with laughter at that and on held out a sputtering torch illuminating her face.
"Ah a Breton with the funny mouth," one of the guards chuckled before repeating the proccedure with Dax.
"And an Argonian... well come on inside before you freeze the rest of the way to death," a redbeared man invited, turning back towards the impressive gates.
Even at night Windhelm was an impressive place. Soaring Nord architecture and impressive fortifications. Stormcloak banners hung from the walls and the blue and black were displayed on many doors with twined ribbon that fluttered and snapped in the breeze. Kris frowned in distaste. If Ulfric had wanted to lead the people of the Empire to smash the Aldmeri Dominion she would have cheered him as loudly as anyone, but his ambitions took him no father than Skyrim and that meant that all his petty rebellion really did was divide Imperials when they needed unity most. She kept those thoughts to herself.
The city was quiet, most beggars and vendors had been forced inside by the night bitter cold, though a few bedraggled and hopeful looking prostitutes cried their dubious wares. Guard duty being what it was a few of those girls might find their efforts repaid when the watch changed.
"Lets find an inn and some soup before I freeze to death," Kris told Dax.
"We are Imperial spies come to murder Ulfric Stormcloak in his bed, now let us in or kill us, I'm too cold to care much which," Kris retorted grumpily. The guards roared with laughter at that and on held out a sputtering torch illuminating her face.
"Ah a Breton with the funny mouth," one of the guards chuckled before repeating the proccedure with Dax.
"And an Argonian... well come on inside before you freeze the rest of the way to death," a redbeared man invited, turning back towards the impressive gates.
Even at night Windhelm was an impressive place. Soaring Nord architecture and impressive fortifications. Stormcloak banners hung from the walls and the blue and black were displayed on many doors with twined ribbon that fluttered and snapped in the breeze. Kris frowned in distaste. If Ulfric had wanted to lead the people of the Empire to smash the Aldmeri Dominion she would have cheered him as loudly as anyone, but his ambitions took him no father than Skyrim and that meant that all his petty rebellion really did was divide Imperials when they needed unity most. She kept those thoughts to herself.
The city was quiet, most beggars and vendors had been forced inside by the night bitter cold, though a few bedraggled and hopeful looking prostitutes cried their dubious wares. Guard duty being what it was a few of those girls might find their efforts repaid when the watch changed.
"Lets find an inn and some soup before I freeze to death," Kris told Dax.
-234
-234
© 2007-2026