• Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: DotCom
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
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    1. DotCom 11 yrs ago
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4 yrs ago
Current how bout now is now a good time to buy stock(s)
4 yrs ago
UPDATE: didn’t buy the stock
5 yrs ago
buy new stock or snatch that new animal crossing switch idk
1 like
5 yrs ago
in a relationshi* that’s why I trust eharmony.
5 yrs ago
I love sports. But I’m not into games

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Most Recent Posts

I should have something up this evening, too. Had an...interesting run-in with a homeless guy on the street. Ironically, it's done wonders for my creativity.

And congrats, Lil. Enjoy your celebrations. =)
^^^ This, but for "public servants".

Half working on a post...I'm interested to see how Bill reacts to the other twenty-something on his team. Particularly when he learns she accidentally blew up her brother...
I don't think 'shy' is a part of Deli's vocabulary.
...how the shit did I miss that picture? I...huh. Well, okay then. I'm not even all that into guys, but that...that is...that is just fantastic stuff you got there, Roadsy.
Ugh geez, idle, I'm sorry.

...but also fighting an urge to call you 'youdle'. Meedle. Sheedle. Weedle. That last one is kind of a word, even.
Ivy wasn't feeling so keen on Mechanicsburg anymore. For a city that promised a nearly unending supply of tool kits, metal gears, and more wrenches and screwdrivers than she could shake a stick at, they sure had a lot of silly rules. What was the point of having all that great stuff if you weren't going to share fairly with female Sparks and the Jaeger companions?

Still, she didn't feel like arguing anymore. She wanted to go, the move, to be anywhere but sitting still again. She was beginning to feel restless, and she wasn't sure how much time she could spend rebuilding the engine before Jötx tried to ruin her fun again.

She started to wonder off again, wondering whether she could find anything of use that wasn't buried in dust or half eaten away by copper-colored rust -- but she froze as Jötz began speaking again.

Jacob Ludd?

She was almost certain she had heard the name before, though she couldn't, for the life of her, remember where or even when. Motorhum hadn't exactly been a bustling city, and certainly wasn't Spark friendly. It only followed that all the atrocities that came with Sparks -- even those, like the Canallers, that weren't directly linked -- weren't much liked or discussed either, save by more liberal parents, and even then, only in the confines of crowded children's rooms, meant to frighten children into staying home to take care of their ailing, aging families. Rather like the toads outside the village walls.

Though that had ended up far worse than Ivy might have anticipated.

That, coupled with the involuntary shiver she gave at the sound of the name, and the way the tiny hairs on the back of her neck went rigid, almost as if they themselves were fearful of the ghost of some unknown moniker, ought to have prodded what little intuitive effort Ivy had into some semblance of being. But as of late, all her intuition had gone into building any number of bombs. So. No help there.

Then the moment was past, and Ivy was shrugging, thinking she'd probably gotten the name from her brother's old stories. He'd once traded a week's supply of eggs to the neighbor for a tattered and dog-eared copy of The Heterodyne Tales, Vol. 2. The illustrations had been so graphic (and the eggs so missed), Mama Petra had beat him until he couldn't even help with the chores and had to make them up the next month. But he'd kept the book, and he and Ivy had read from it every night until the pages had fallen apart in their hands.

"I think I read a story about him once," Ivy said errantly, still frowning slightly, trying to remember just what the story had been about. Why it made her stomach feel a little uneasy. Then she shrugged and grinned. "I bet I can get it open," she said, then hesitated. "But maybe you should stand somewhere else. I think you get in the way of my exploding things a lot."
Deli was, of course, late to the briefing. She was late to most things, just one of many reasons she'd never bothered following Dacio into the military. Not when smoking barefoot in a Spanish meadow somewhere was so much more...rewarding. Besides, she figured she was only going to enjoy the view for so long. She may as well get her appreciation time in now, while she was still all wide-eyed and innocent.

Innocentish.

Sergeant Larson had already been introduced, and was a few minutes into her pre-icebreaker when Deli squeezed in, selecting a seat off to the side where she could fidget when she got bored, without offending too many of the military personnel in attendance. Not for the first time she thought Dacio would have done well here. But that thought was sort of a bummer, so she quickly moved on to what Sergeant Larson was saying.

Deli had never been a very strong decision maker.

The nausea she'd been staving off for an hour hit her abruptly as the cold reality of what Larson had said sunk in. Objectively, Deli knew probably only a second or so had passed between the Sergeant's admission and her subsequent reassurances, but it felt much, much longer. Ironic, considering the previous three years had passed in the blink of an eye.
It took a long time for the questions asked to reach her ears. Even then, she didn't register them right away. There was, at first, only one question in her mind, repeating itself over and over and over again, rising in pitch to hit high, sharp, painful notes, the heroine of your favorite thrilled edging down a dark hallways as a gleam of silver bobbed behind her, insidious. Psycho, sans the bathroom and the Oedipus complex.

Three women, one man, and a child.

One man, and a child.

One man, and a --


And she'd thought her brothers would be safer off without her. Yeah. Right.

Without a word, Deli leapt lightly to her feet, skirting chairs and legs like Frogger on crack. She looked for a waste basket, couldn't find one, and went for what she sincerely hoped was a Star-Wars-esque trash compacter tucked into a wall. The front panel slid away with a touch, whereupon Deli was visited by the same nausea that had plagued everyone else when they'd first woken. Unsurprising. Deli was late for most things.

Her task done, the young demolitionist made a face and dragged the back of her hand across her mouth. "Guay," she muttered under her breath. Then, louder, green eyes for Abby and Abby alone: "The...murderer. He confessed? He killed five people, attacked a sixth, all on his own, and no one noticed?" Deli tilted her head to the side, still decidedly green. "How do we know it won't happen again?"

In the following silence, an older Korean man at the back of the room, largely unnoticed until then, said, very gently, "Are the victims' next of kin still awake?"

The implicit question was clear in his demeanor: May I speak to them?
Hey, Terminal, I edited Max's last line, too (not an excuse to try --> no excuse not to try), so you may want to edit accordingly. =)
Justric said
You know, that last question is a rather good one! I'm holding off on Hob for the moment until everyone's reactions are more or less done, but I'm having a grand time reading in the meantime!!


This. All of this. I'd forgotten about criminal records and whatnot...
^^^
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