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Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


ALRIGHT PEEPS LET'S GO

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Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Hang on, I'm time-confused again, when's the deadline?

Edit: In real time, not American idiot-time.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


gently caress your bourgeoisie imperialist time system bitch

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Gravity slaves - 845

By the time he'd reached the command post, the rest of his squad were dead. He sat down on a burned out tank, back leaned against the still warm plasma manifolds, swordtip resting on the ground. Any earther who weren't dead on the ground were long gone, he'd surely meet some resistance once he breached the command post, but he could handle it, and he could handle her.

Planetfall had made him painfully aware of how things had changed. Back before he left for the void, they'd talked about the beauty of space, the infinite. It didn't matter that the earth had restricted him so, that was nature back then. Gravity pained him now, he felt the weakness of his bones, the chains around his feet. Despite training for years in a grav-tumbler on his ship, he was unprepared.

She'd told him just before he'd left that no matter what happened, they'd meet again. She'd meet him in space, or he'd return to earth. They'd embrace, and one of them had to give up the dream. He would end his adventurous journey, or she'd depart from the safety of home. Best-laid schemes and all that.

He had just transferred orbit from Jupiter to Saturn when the call came in. She was on a transport heading interstellar, planned to hop off on a research station nestled in the rings. They'd met, embraced and realized that they'd been children for far too long, dreaming even past that age where idealists grow cynical. He was always meant for the void, she could never get used to it. It had taken them ten years to realize that. Lunch had been quiet, and he was uncomfortable in the artificial gravity. He'd suggested eating in the observatory, she told him she'd never keep the food down that way. Weightless was pointless.

For some reason, that was the sentence that had set him off.

Strength returned, he got to his feet, in the distance, artillery played a drumbeat, tearing unknown thousands apart. He placed breaching charges on the door, stepped away, and flipped the switch. Before the smoked had cleared he tumbled inside, weaving violence in arcs of red, painting the ground with each swing. One hit in the leg, didn't matter, one in the right arm, mattered more. He changed the grip on his sword went for the last two defenders.

"Enough."

She was older now. They'd been born two days apart, but she was even older now. Gravity's decay. She gave a signal, and the few remaining earthers left the bunker.

"Happy now?"

He didn't reply.

"You know," she continued, "We could have left it there, 'round Saturn. Reconciled our differences."

"Maybe you could, I couldn't."

She smiled, shook her head.

"I always admired your stubbornness," she said, "Maybe I didn't see it as that back then, but I see now that it's not bravery, it's not passion. You get an idea and you hold on to it."

"Because it's worth holding on to."

"For you."

"For everyone. I found freedom, and I pursued it. That's not stubbornness, that's enlightenment."

"You made a movement out of a pointless, fallacious ultimatum. Sit down."

He sat, rested his sword against the wall.

"I'm guiding us to freedom. You let your children grow up shackled to the mud, you hinder their imagination by keeping them here."

She shook her head, "For my sake, drop the melodramatic bullshit. It didn't work in your political campaigns, so now you're forcing it on us. Don't force it on me."

He couldn't look her in the eyes, couldn't if he tried.

"You're losing blood," she said.

They sat in silence for a while.

"I had a son," he said.

She seemed genuinely surprised, "When?"

"Eight years ago. His mother took and left for Mars."

Dots swam before his eyes, the room spun.

"I'd get messages from her now and then. Pictures, videos. I had to watch him grow up groundbound. I pleaded with her to come with me, travel on the weightless cities. I tried to tell her how beautiful it was.

"But she didn't listen?"

"She didn't want to."

"Mars was your first target," it was a statement, a cold one. Then, "What happened to them?"

"She drowned him when we started rounding up the children, then she killed herself."

He wasn't sure just how much time passed, but he realized he didn't have much time left.

"Why did you come here?" she said.

"I wanted you to understand, wanted you to see."

"Well, that's the thing. I understand why you're doing it, why you've started all this, but that doesn't make it any less insane."

"All I wanted was freedom, freedom for everyone."

They looked at each other, she tensed up, he lunged. She dodged him without effort and he careened across the command post, tripped on a cable and crashed into the wall. Fell to the ground, head bouncing on the concrete. Momentum and gravity, the best of both worlds.

"Should have read up on your Newton," she said, and stepped out the door.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Getting in on this.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


gently caress , I was supposed to do this. Oh well, nothing to do but toxx myself for the next one.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Dark Strings - 99

Eliath wrapped the bass strings around the demon's head and pulled. The claws of angels ripped into his sides, but pain was only distraction. With a soft pluck at the deepest tone, the demon convulsed, and with the force of a small-yield nuke, it exploded and threw Eliath towards the skies. Strings trailing, he tuned his bass back just in time to parry the attack of the angel hanging onto him, and roaring the skin of its bones, he slammed the bass guitar into its skull again and again until it caved in.

"Your turn", he said, looking upwards.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


In, and this week I will deliver.

:toxx:

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


'Nam Soliloquy - 748

The worst thing is the feeling that something irreplaceable have been lost. The white bones jutting out of my hand is the first sign. I don't know much about medicine, I usually leave that too the medics, but I know that a sufficiently serious wound will leave you with a permanently hosed up appendage, and that it's especially true for your hands. All those little bones.

I try to relate the feeling to something, and I remember all those awful moments when you're young and every mistake and poor decision feels like it'll stay with you for life. When that one time you broke a vase meant the end of the world. The difference is, all that fear was a child's mind, and at he end of the day, it meant nothing.

But this will stay with me until the end of my life, and it looks like that'll happen quite soon. The second shot has entered my thigh, just above the knee. That's another thing I know about medicine, a wound to the leg means you'll bleed out quick without attention. I could apply a tourniquet, but I don't really know how, and I'd probably need both hands. I if I'd known, maybe I'd be on a Chinook out of here.

For some reason I think about the place where I'll die. Tables folded together, stacked against the wall, chairs against the other wall. The smell of lasagna still in the air. Brass decided the troops needed a good meal before Khe Sanh. Not the kind of thing I'd think of. Maybe if I did, I'd be on a Chinook out of here instead of the mess hall floor. The drone of the rotors have grown dimmer, steady like some great beast departing. As they leave one by one, I notice more and more.

The dull, orange light of a grill in the kitchen. If I found out who left that on, I would have yelled until I was hoarse. Maybe I'd be on a Chinook right now if I were nicer.

That's not the kind of thing they teach you. But I should have been taught more. Every single one of them were right, I didn't deserve this.

The promotion, I mean. This, I probably deserve.

A fork in a corner, under one of the chairs, gleaming silver with flecks of red and brown.

Moonlight, shutter-pattern on the gray floor, hazy now and then from passing clouds.

A noise from the kitchen and I realize I'm falling asleep. I lift my head up, my neck aches, more than it should, black dots swim past my eyes, settle like falling leaves. Private McCullen appears, holding a steak knife. I don't think he was the one who fired the shots. He's sweating, fatigues damp. Scratches his neck and breathes heavily. He kneels down.

“I'm gonna leave this here,” he says, “ I don't know. Just, do what you want.”

“Kill myself?”

“I don't know, man.”

I close my eyes for a moment. I try to smile, get on top of the situation, but it doesn't work, and I realize I can't open my eyes. That, or I can't see.

I don't know much about medicine, but if I were to guess, I'd say I'm dying pretty quick. Last steps of the journey.

“Did they tell you to finish me off?” I say.

“What?”

He's further away now, on the way out. I guess he thought the job was done.

“The others. Did they tell you to finish me off.”

Going by the buzz, there's a single Chinook remaining by the time he speaks.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn't you?”

“You hosed up sarge, but I never wanted this. You hosed us up, Stenson most of all, but I never wanted this.”

“So you leave it up to me?”

“Yes.”

“You're a coward.”

“I know.”

The door closes. The beast departs.

If I'd known more about people, more about palm trees at odd angles and hidden nails packed in hidden charges. More about leading from the front and taking advice. If I'd known more about men burning from the inside, trapped in a wreck. About danger close. If I'd known more about cauterizing wounds and tourniquets and Stenson's last wishes. If I'd known more about Phillips and Jackson and Rourke before I let them die.

If I'd known more about hell before I sent them there, maybe I'd be on a Chinook out of here.

But now I'll know no more.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Getting on this.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Ugh, gently caress, I'm in, 80's.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Apparently the only thing that get's my rear end in gear is the chance of escaping from this loving hell hole, so if I don't deliver this week: :toxx:.

And since we're leaping headfirst into danger: element and flash rule please.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Element: Tellurium

Enforcer - 1101

We rode the horses to the prison at dawn, tied them to the post and entered. Investigator carried his cane like a baton, limping slightly. He did that when he was angry, I'd learned that. The officer in the window pulled the lever that made the big doors open, and walked on towards the holding cells.

“Crudgel at the ready, Sloan,” said Investigator.

“What?” I said.

“Club, Sloan, I want you to be ready with your club.”

I nodded and grabbed my club from the sling on my back. It was big, this one, cut from one of the thick trees down in the Old Forest. I'd cut it myself when Investigator punished me for eating with my hands. Two days in the Old Forest, didn't want to do that again.

The corridor with the holding cells were a long lonely row of metal doors, each leading to more and more metal doors. I had no idea how many near-deads were down here, I'd given up on counting.

“Bring out Nander, Grand and Lozier,” said Investigator to a box on the wall.

We waited for some time, heard the drip-drop of water through old stone and the creaking of bad, worn boots. I had good boots, got them from a dead one a few weeks back. Almost as big as me, but just almost; they hurt on the big toe if I ran too much.

A door opened, and Investigator motioned for me to follow. We descended a staircase, passed through a corridor with pairs of steel doors on each side, and then did the same twice more. Now and then we heard screaming from beyond a door. I couldn't imagine why anyone would be stupid enough to end up here.

We ended up in a room with four chairs. Chained to three of them were near-deads, ragged hair and stringy beards.

“Gentlemen,” said Investigator. Two of the dead ones looked up, last one mumbled something I couldn't understand.

Investigator sat down on the fourth chair, passed his cane to me.

It was the usual signal, and when he started talking, I was already gone.

“... The rape and murder of Coran Grand...”

Leftmost, the one called Lozier had a limp in his right foot. The way he moved when he shifted, pushed with the right foot, gentle with the left.

“... And yes, at first you were our main suspect, but your own brother?”

Middle one, Grand, the brother. Strong arms, chain stretched taunt. He was focused, and he tried to act groggy and gone, but I could spot focus. I knew a fighter.

“... But what if it it wasn't just one murder? What if it was a spree?”

Right one, Nander. He was the weakest. Legs and arms withered from unuse. He was a laborer once, maybe a dockworker, but now he looked like opium-ridden and gone. He'd be fast though, probably gave the officer a long nice run when they came to take him in. Now and then he'd shift forward, mumble something and lean back.

“... Because, you see, we found something common in all of these scenes. One repeated by at least one witness...”

Grand had something weird with his breath, like the left side of his chest wouldn't quite follow. Probably a half-busted lung, he'd tire easily. Nander had his right eye were swollen shut, he'd be hard pressed to fight someone on his blind side. Lozier showed more and more signs of being the better fighter. The shifting from left to right kept the blood running. He'd roll his shoulders as much as he could now and then.

“... There is one place that could explain this common element. One place where the murderer would visit again and again, each time marking himself with a fatal clue...”

Lozier would make eye contact with me now and again. Probably looking for the same things I was looking for. Grand stared at a point to the left of Investigator, eyes heavy lidded. He was losing the focus he had earlier, his muscles relaxed, shoulders slumped. Nander had his eyes closed, mumbled constantly now.

“... Two days ago we arrested a doctor, Ryan Roheed for selling opium to unlicensed sources. This doctor used a certain compound in his process, one that left this fatal clue.”

Nander tensed up, and shut up. I turned Investigator's cane half a turn and kicked the ground twice, soft as I could. Investigator paused for half a beat, then he got up from his chair, took a step back.

“Sloan, do you know what tellurium is?”

Nander started mumbling again, but I could hear the ping of metal hitting the stone floor.

“No,” I said.

I put the top of the cane against my shoulder, angled my forearm towards Nander.

“It's a chemical element. We used it in the cure against the Grand plague, but it found a new use among some people.”

Nander tensed up.

“A certain doctor discovered it was very effective in the process of purifying Albian opium.”

When Nander moved his foot forward, I saw the handcuff pin he'd kept hidden. In the time it took to move the cane backwards, ready to throw, he was up from the chair, he really was fast. I threw the cane just beside him, on the side of his good eye. Right eye swollen, left eye preoccupied, I grabbed Investigator’s chair and threw it at Nander. He got one edge right in the throat and the other one on the knee, raised in the start of a run, and he stumbled and fell back towards the wall. I rushed forward and hewed my club in a wide arch, sweeping him to the side and snapping both shins in the process.

When the noise died down, Investigator stepped forward, picked up his cane. It was made from the thick trees down in the Old Forest. It cold take a beating.

“Tellurium leaves an unmistakable aroma in anyone who spends time working with it, or even those who only visit, for example, the office of a doctor who uses it for the purification of opium. A smell like garlic, but fouler. A smell our witnesses described, and a smell our officers described when you were brought in, mister Nander.”

The damage to his windpipe left him unable to speak, but he wouldn't need to. Investigator made a sign, and I dragged him out of the room, up the stairs and towards the sun and the gallows.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


gently caress yeah. :toxx:

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Jonked posted:

Did I say I was in? I don't think I actually posted that I was in.

What are you talking about dude, you totally did.

Jonked posted:

Totally in. Also flash rule for myself "Has to be set in Estonia" and "Can't include pronouns". :toxx:

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Bohemians - 960

We stared out over the ocean, city lights in our peripheral vision, growing brighter as the last light kissed the water. The park was filled with voices, and the smell of grilled meat filled the air. I felt the sting of gin now and then as we passed the bottle around.

I wanted to keep this moment as something solid. The grass whispering to bare feet, the slow passage of enormous ships as they left the bay. In their industrial splendor, they became part of the landscape, an extension of the glittering water. The alcohol kissed my blood and I felt the last rays of sunset burn their goodbyes.

I walked with Mila as song filled the park and the people disappeared. Our group remained, too careless and content to leave. We followed the paths as the dark and the cold bit into us, held at bay by thin jackets and cheap beer.

“I guess it's the contrast,” I said, “I've been alone most of my life. This is different. This whole year has been different.”

We reached the edge of the water, where a pier and a shingle beach met the waves.

“Different can be a whole new world sometimes,” She said.

The city lights left reflections in the water, growing and shrinking in the movement.

“Will you keep an eye out?” she said.

“Yeah. For what?”

She walked down to the water, looked back at me and smiled. Taking a few deep breaths, she dipped her bare foot into the cold.

“It's not too bad,” she said.

I sat down on the pier. She stood there for a while, with her foot in the water, and then she stripped down to her underpants and waded out. I laughed, and so did she, teeth clattering, arms crossed.

And then she just stood there, a statue half submerged, arms dropped to the side and fingers curled in the water. Dark against the light of the moon, I couldn't see her face, but I imagined she had her eyes closed against the white light. In the distance, the singing carried on; Norwegian drinking songs and raw, beautiful laughter softened by the wind and the night.

-

The cold became too much, and we walked back to Wilde's place. Mila said goodbye at the door, had to catch the last bus home. Something so mundane left a small crack in the dreamlike nature of the night, where the ships were like whales and the cars like strange beasts prowling the streets, but the thought disappeared as the warmth and the light and the music filled my ears.

We passed around an old bottle of wine, tongues too dull to care about the sour and bitter taste, and watched the cartoons we'd watched as children. We all laughed, some had tears in their eyes and wide, grateful smiles. We'd reached that place where everything had some intrinsic deeper meaning. If we were sober, we'd shake our heads at the stupidity, laugh at how pretentious and young we were, but we were too full of joy to care now. Watching memories from our childhood on a widescreen TV was suddenly something we could have written books about. Great poems and scientific dissertations.

Jonathan climbed out of the ceiling window just as we opened a bottle of champagne. A few people objected at first, but as soon as Wilde said it was safe, we all climbed out. We found comfortable positions in the dip between two sloped roofs, and watched the moon bathe Bergen in silver. In the distance, we could see the softly swaying trees of the park. Scattered clouds moved fast across the sky and painted shadows on the water, and behind the photopollution, we could see the stars.

We talked about everything. Wilde sang a soft song, her eyes closed. On the second beer run back into the apartment, Jonathan found a guitar, and we all joined in. Six voices, all without shame but none without merit. At first we sang softly, like Wilde. We'd sing about what we could see; the moon, the roofs and the hidden stars. We'd pass the song along, weaving it together and without pause. We couldn't stop. After the first fifteen minutes, the song picked up the pace, and after half an hour it was a wild thing so full of joy that we barely contained it. The first complaints started after an hour, as a window opened and someone screamed at us to shut up, but like the boat-whales and the car-beasts, he was nothing more than a part of the landscape, and we took it into our song and spun a tale about The Man in the Window.

We sang until the half light of dawn streamed through the streets. Until our voices were hoarse and Jonathan's playing hand fell asleep. Until the neighbor from the the apartment next to Wilde's climbed out, thanked us for our song but told us that he really had to sleep now.

“Actually, I'm writing a book about spontaneous moments,” he said, “And I'm grateful. I wish I could be like you, I appreciate what you've shown me.”

We climbed in through the window again, past the Moomin DVD and the empty wine bottles. As I said goodbye and headed home, the world was stark and sober. People weren't just angry shadows from distant windows or strange authors writing serendipitous books. Cars were cars and the ships were drab metal things in the harbor. The noise of traffic and people had none of the poetic quality of that hazy night.

But as I looked out across the sunlit bay, I could see moonlight on soft skin and hear songs sung until dawn, like an echo never ceasing.

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at 05:40 on Feb 17, 2014

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Hahaha, you weirdo. In. :toxx:

And this is easier to navigate: http://lego.wikia.com/wiki/List_of_themes

Black Griffon fucked around with this message at 14:20 on Feb 18, 2014

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Anathema Device posted:

I'm in. What's my flash rule?

Also I'm bored. I will crit three stories if anyone asks.

Give my last one a shot?

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Flashcedes me up this what.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


http://lego.wikia.com/wiki/8073_Manta_Warrior



Atlantean Exile - 523 words

By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.
-Confucius

"It's like this bro," said Fishwize the warrior, "Poseidon thinks he's got this under control, but he don't, bro."

Kelp said nothing, which made sense, as he was a small piece of kelp.

"It's like," Fishwize waved his trident around ineffectually, "Po', you don't got this. You don't."

If kelp was sentient, and could speak, he'd probably say something like, "Listen, Jürgen, I realize you're in that age where you think you've got it all figured out, but you don't. Poseidon is an immortal god, you're just a soldier."

And he'd probably add something like, "And stop calling yourself Fishwize, it's ridiculous. Atlantis doesn't have a hip-hop scene, and you're just being awkward."

But Kelp remained silent.

"I tell him 'yo Po', if we don't get these gats to our homeboys pronto, we gonna have some overrun gates on our hands'."

Jürgen "Fishwize" Heimblyg started beat boxing, bubbles escaping from his gills in time with the mis-timed beats. His voice shook from embarassment, and eventually he just stopped.

"You know, Kelp," he stopped, corrected himself, "Ya' knaaa, Kelp, my homeboi, I would’ve made a real difference, a diff'. Byt 'dey threw me out, right out. Didn't deserve that."

The currents changed, and Kelp tilted away from Jürgen. If there was a higher meaning to anything, some purpose to the currents, they were doing a very good job of keeping Kelp away from Jürgen, and that was worth something.

Jürgen started rapping, and miles away, Poseidon got a sudden headache.

"Got my trident of power (power, power, power)
Got my bling-bling scales (what up with those scales)
Got my homeboy Kelp (what up plant-like friend)
Gotta get this party started (disco lights on the ocean floor)

See I tried to talk sense, but 'dey said 'boy you mad'
And I told that wench, 'don't you know I'm rad'
So she go tell Poseidon, 'that boy outa him mind'
'You don't kick him out, I be outa my mind'

But I got my trident..."

Jürgen laid down on the ocean floor, pointing his trident towards the weak glimmer from the sun above.

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

Something strange was happening around Kelp, something Jürgen couldn't see. Currents were twisting and turning around the algae, and now and then, tiny, split second arcs of electricity appeared.

"Tell you what, I'll flip a coin. Poseidonhead and I go back and show him how angry I am, Deep Sea Reagan and I'll head into the wild watery wastelands."

Jürgen stared at the coin for a while, contemplating existence, then he flipped it, and watched it lazily loop upwards, trailing small bubbles. Kelp was growing countless small eyes, and a thousand tiny mouths. The coint hit apex and headed downwards. As Jürgen caught it, Kelp spoke.

"Jesus Christ, Jürgen, what are you doing? I mean, seriously, what are you thinking? How hungover are you?"

"Very. I'm very hungover."

And he buried his head in his hands and cried.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Go Long, Hemingway! - 6 words

For sale: baby chainsaw, used once

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


The Leper Colon V posted:

Go Home, Hemingway, You're Drunk - 3 words
For sale: Baby.

Touché.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Man, you just had to drop that in when I thought I was off the hook.

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


In.

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Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.


Yeah, a visit to the ER and all that involves pretty much ensured that there's not gonna be a story. At least I didn't have any writing partners.

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