Hm. Well, it's meant to reflect you, right? So...hm. Maybe...i think an owl.
I like to think I'm some kind of giraffe or a hippo or something haha
Dioxide
Member
Foreign-Local in Hong Kong
- Last Seen: 8 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: Dioxide
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 2392 (0.60 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Dioxide 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Mixtape Ghost N
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
- A Linguistics major at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, specializing in multilingual acquisition and education
- A simultaneous, functional trilingual of Cantonese, English, and Tagalog - now learning Mandarin and Hong Kong Sign Language
- A bookworm, preferring science fiction and science-fantasy. Brandon Sanderson is a god
- A dancer, dabbling in Hip Hop, Jazz Funk, and Ballroom Dancing
- A pathetic excuse of a polymath, with interests in engineering, physics, chemistry, environmental science, politics, history, anthropology, law, and Art
- A dabbler in learning the guzheng and basketball
- A music enthusiast who will literally listen to anything
I'm too busy for my own good. LOL
- A simultaneous, functional trilingual of Cantonese, English, and Tagalog - now learning Mandarin and Hong Kong Sign Language
- A bookworm, preferring science fiction and science-fantasy. Brandon Sanderson is a god
- A dancer, dabbling in Hip Hop, Jazz Funk, and Ballroom Dancing
- A pathetic excuse of a polymath, with interests in engineering, physics, chemistry, environmental science, politics, history, anthropology, law, and Art
- A dabbler in learning the guzheng and basketball
- A music enthusiast who will literally listen to anything
I'm too busy for my own good. LOL
Most Recent Posts
I like to think I'm some kind of giraffe or a hippo or something haha
I hope I was able to describe her abilities well. Tell me what you think!
Agent Dioxide had been hiding around the corner of the hallway. There were not as many doors as the traditional sense had, rooms larger to act as stabilizers in the already large building. Even if the rooms were pathetic and pitiful, serving as the reminder of the bane of their unceasing, choking existence in the work, many people stayed in, grateful that they even have a high-pay in the first place. The hallways were always so quiet. So when Agent Caits opened hers, he felt calm in his soul: she was in.
He met her gaze as he turned the corner, as if it had been his intention. He had been writing on another piece of paper then – another message to pass secretly. A coup was forming.
He walked up to her door, handing her a cloth.
‘You dropped this.’
It wasn’t hers. He held a soft gaze and gestured the most subtle eyebrow raise, hoping she’d catch on. He handed it to her in both hands, tucking the message in between.
‘Oh, and don’t forget – you’re on guard duty starting tomorrow. I’ll handle Subject 30 while you’re gone.’
The message wrote:
‘You’re on guard-duty tomorrow for the information vault. I believe what we need to find is in there. You’ll help me sneak in – I’ll handle the rest.
Our only problem is getting the passcode, and that means getting through to Dr. Baoning.
Reply to me through email – cryptically, of course.’
‘I’ll see you later.’
Gershwin would not wake until the late afternoon. A woozy headache overcame her at first as soon as she opened her eyes. She felt nothing from her arm, having expected a bruise, and she could breathe deeply through her nose. But her temples ached with a trembling ache that threatened to knock her out to sleep again.
But she found that she couldn’t fall back asleep – she was able to operate, think, and move as she were normally, but her pain persisted and seemed to double. It was her pain that pushed her through to her consciousness, pushing every limit she did not know she had, and pressured her to act. Her thoughts came back to her quickly.
Cody.
She rushed to the side of the room where she knew Cody’s room was adjacent, hit as the wall as hard as she could, hoping to catch her attention.
‘Cody! Cody! Are you there!?’
No matter how loud she was, how many times she called out to him, there was no reply. There was something wrong. Even if their relationship was so brief and was akin to that of strangers, they were in here for the same thing. It was only natural that they would stick up for each other. Had this been any other person, she might not have cared as much – but a fellow prisoner, a nice one at that, and she was suddenly his best friend. She had to find him.
‘Let me out! You bastards, what have you done to him!?’
Her knuckles started to hurt as she poured out her hatred and anger at the door. Her strength and will put to the test against the metallic door – a metaphorical and literal representation of their current situation, fighting as hard as they can, putting up a fight, against an unbreakable wall.
As she pounded and pounded, hoping that someone’s attention would be drawn long enough for her to punch their stupid face in, her knuckles scathed, hurt, and bled, but through the pain she felt herself getting stronger – as if she was making progress in actually making a dent on the door.
…
Agent Dioxide moved up the floors to where Gershwin was. By now she would be awake, possibly furious at the recent events. There was no fixing whatever they had been building up. He did not want to appear as an entirely bad guy, but that was completely tarnished. He held his head down the whole way to the door.
But when he heard the screaming, the type that sounded like it was from an unstoppable anger, and the banging on the door, he ran to Gershwin’s cell. There was about to be trouble and he had to act fast.
He reached the door, his heart pacing fast, cold sweats poured as he observed the small fist-sized dents on the door. More were being made as sound matched the impact – collision so strong it must have been crushing her bones, but she relented none the less. He had to think and act fast. He mustn’t let her out or have her escape, but he had to talk to her, to calm her down.
‘Gershwin, stop this now!’
Her voice changed, as if she was changing. This must be the same effect that happened during her first capture. This was her abilities activating. Agent Dioxide pushed his words out as he struggled to breathe – heart pacing and hurting, fighting every anxious thought clouding his judgment.
‘Cody is alright. Yes, he did get hurt, but he is alright now. He’s been given the best treatment and he will be fine!’
‘I can’t! Look at yourself! Look at what you can do! I can’t let you out!’
That was when Gershwin paused to look at herself. Whatever rationality she had, she froze in shock with what she saw: the metal door caving out so much as to reveal the outside hallway, practically all surfaces of her room covered with splashes of blood and bone.
She looked down at her hands: what was left were two stubs, profuse bleeding that blood all around her – but what was in its place the absolute weirdest.
What was in place of her missing hands were red glowing ghostly representations of her hands – they looked strong, adept, and they pulsated with her heartbeat. Every movement she made hurt but her hands worked. It was… impossible…
It was then and there that she calmed and reasoned with herself.
‘Please, you have to relax. I can’t let you out… I’m sorry.’
It was all he could to tell her the truth, the reality of her stay being that she was a literal monster. He heard crying on the other side as the commotion had ceased.
Then a thud was heard. She’d stayed still long enough that her anger had subsided. She must have fought the pain, and when she calmed down, she saw no reason to inflict any more pain. She passed out to the floor.
Agent Dioxide looked through the broken gap and saw the aftermath of the room. Self-inflicted carnage showering the cell, coating it a bright sheen of red, and there in the middle was Gershwin May, with her red pulsing hands. Had it not been for the door, Agent Dioxide would have passed out too. Just in time for him to reach to his phone, the sanitation team came, and brought Subject 29 to the SRD building for immediate investigation.
He met her gaze as he turned the corner, as if it had been his intention. He had been writing on another piece of paper then – another message to pass secretly. A coup was forming.
He walked up to her door, handing her a cloth.
‘You dropped this.’
It wasn’t hers. He held a soft gaze and gestured the most subtle eyebrow raise, hoping she’d catch on. He handed it to her in both hands, tucking the message in between.
‘Oh, and don’t forget – you’re on guard duty starting tomorrow. I’ll handle Subject 30 while you’re gone.’
The message wrote:
‘You’re on guard-duty tomorrow for the information vault. I believe what we need to find is in there. You’ll help me sneak in – I’ll handle the rest.
Our only problem is getting the passcode, and that means getting through to Dr. Baoning.
Reply to me through email – cryptically, of course.’
‘I’ll see you later.’
Gershwin would not wake until the late afternoon. A woozy headache overcame her at first as soon as she opened her eyes. She felt nothing from her arm, having expected a bruise, and she could breathe deeply through her nose. But her temples ached with a trembling ache that threatened to knock her out to sleep again.
But she found that she couldn’t fall back asleep – she was able to operate, think, and move as she were normally, but her pain persisted and seemed to double. It was her pain that pushed her through to her consciousness, pushing every limit she did not know she had, and pressured her to act. Her thoughts came back to her quickly.
Cody.
She rushed to the side of the room where she knew Cody’s room was adjacent, hit as the wall as hard as she could, hoping to catch her attention.
‘Cody! Cody! Are you there!?’
No matter how loud she was, how many times she called out to him, there was no reply. There was something wrong. Even if their relationship was so brief and was akin to that of strangers, they were in here for the same thing. It was only natural that they would stick up for each other. Had this been any other person, she might not have cared as much – but a fellow prisoner, a nice one at that, and she was suddenly his best friend. She had to find him.
‘Let me out! You bastards, what have you done to him!?’
Her knuckles started to hurt as she poured out her hatred and anger at the door. Her strength and will put to the test against the metallic door – a metaphorical and literal representation of their current situation, fighting as hard as they can, putting up a fight, against an unbreakable wall.
As she pounded and pounded, hoping that someone’s attention would be drawn long enough for her to punch their stupid face in, her knuckles scathed, hurt, and bled, but through the pain she felt herself getting stronger – as if she was making progress in actually making a dent on the door.
…
Agent Dioxide moved up the floors to where Gershwin was. By now she would be awake, possibly furious at the recent events. There was no fixing whatever they had been building up. He did not want to appear as an entirely bad guy, but that was completely tarnished. He held his head down the whole way to the door.
But when he heard the screaming, the type that sounded like it was from an unstoppable anger, and the banging on the door, he ran to Gershwin’s cell. There was about to be trouble and he had to act fast.
He reached the door, his heart pacing fast, cold sweats poured as he observed the small fist-sized dents on the door. More were being made as sound matched the impact – collision so strong it must have been crushing her bones, but she relented none the less. He had to think and act fast. He mustn’t let her out or have her escape, but he had to talk to her, to calm her down.
‘Gershwin, stop this now!’
‘Where is Cody!?’
Her voice changed, as if she was changing. This must be the same effect that happened during her first capture. This was her abilities activating. Agent Dioxide pushed his words out as he struggled to breathe – heart pacing and hurting, fighting every anxious thought clouding his judgment.
AAAAAAHHHHHH
‘Cody is alright. Yes, he did get hurt, but he is alright now. He’s been given the best treatment and he will be fine!’
‘No! No! Let me out!’
‘I can’t! Look at yourself! Look at what you can do! I can’t let you out!’
That was when Gershwin paused to look at herself. Whatever rationality she had, she froze in shock with what she saw: the metal door caving out so much as to reveal the outside hallway, practically all surfaces of her room covered with splashes of blood and bone.
She looked down at her hands: what was left were two stubs, profuse bleeding that blood all around her – but what was in its place the absolute weirdest.
What was in place of her missing hands were red glowing ghostly representations of her hands – they looked strong, adept, and they pulsated with her heartbeat. Every movement she made hurt but her hands worked. It was… impossible…
It was then and there that she calmed and reasoned with herself.
‘Please, you have to relax. I can’t let you out… I’m sorry.’
It was all he could to tell her the truth, the reality of her stay being that she was a literal monster. He heard crying on the other side as the commotion had ceased.
‘What’s… happening to me…’
Then a thud was heard. She’d stayed still long enough that her anger had subsided. She must have fought the pain, and when she calmed down, she saw no reason to inflict any more pain. She passed out to the floor.
Agent Dioxide looked through the broken gap and saw the aftermath of the room. Self-inflicted carnage showering the cell, coating it a bright sheen of red, and there in the middle was Gershwin May, with her red pulsing hands. Had it not been for the door, Agent Dioxide would have passed out too. Just in time for him to reach to his phone, the sanitation team came, and brought Subject 29 to the SRD building for immediate investigation.
United Nations Anomalies Research MissionDate and Time: 10/03/2016, 1340Analysis Report – Subject 29(7)
This was the sort of opportunity we were waiting for. The surveillance footage was part documentary, part horror movie. It was fascinating and we had to act fast. Kudos to Agent Dioxide to getting through to Subject 29.
The glowing that emanated whenever her abilities were activated appeared whenever a part of the Subject’s body was injured. The relation is that the injury caused her pain, and through the pain a ghostly build-up of whatever material replaces the damage. Her empowerment is incredibly powerful, and enhanced through her ability to push through her pain, and to act as if there was no damage at all.
She was returned to her room, under the same guard-duty as Subject 30 now. Both Subjects are now limited to movement within the SRD building only.
We have made progress today. But further more can be made. We will need more of her.
If you could choose what your patronus was, what would it be?
Hahah
I'll write up a post now. Might be a short one!
Hahah
I'll write up a post now. Might be a short one!
I will always stay with my physical copies of books. Some audio books are just not enough to fully disengage me from reality, you know?
my god I feel dwarfed haha
I have near 700 song son my spotify playlist, over 44 hours of music xD
By the way, you don't have to centralize the Chapter Name, but you do have to complete the code :p
Otherwise, that's a freaking cool title, omg I didn't even think of that one
By the way, you don't have to centralize the Chapter Name, but you do have to complete the code :p
Otherwise, that's a freaking cool title, omg I didn't even think of that one
Some people didn't believe me when I said that I loved all kinds of music xD
Just about every culture's music, I have heard and listened to at least once
Just about every culture's music, I have heard and listened to at least once
Now that's the sort of answer I like to hear!
What sort of music do you listen to? :)
© 2007-2024