Long ago when the acts of the Gods in the declaration of the people increased by one hundredfold every generation by the love and devotion that they left as onto the Kings and Queens, Emperors who were closer to them.
In history the rigours of the flight from Thebes till Colchis had convinced many of these that the compassion and mercy were preferable to a continuation of wars upon wars.
From Titans to Troy, Zeus grew stronger cherished as a King of Gods would many said that among his Olympian warriors the secrets of transformation, transporting, ship-shaping.
Dying and rebirthing, auto-healing, expressed intentions to who concerned within the powers of immortality to those who are wounded as the happiest to lose to let mistakes be buried with you to what's sometimes difficult to understand or explain.
As ancient from tribal legions, we changed with the natures, specially before civilisation trying to shape forms and norms as a play that practises it's dealings or crimes, one upon the other realm, changing.
Metamorphis
As purging your body till nothing is left, burning your ships behind to never return and flipforward where the enemy exits in the frontline. What a wickedness, after Zeus death.
Some myth say the very Hades is the other side, the dark side of Zeus, but people must trust in the light, the goodness only then we can grow and materialised by the light of events. It's a tragedy, I lived plainly to hide its LOGOs, the symbols are to some distinguished the mark.
Zeus to us is also Darkseid murdering any goodness left in him in order to protect the future of his daughter Diana. I'm the Goddess of Victory best friend of Athena, Olympian warrior with my three brothers Vitality or Force, Rivalry, Violence and with me Nike, Victory to brake through and conquer. The driver from the chariot and mobile of Zeus as for me to remain focus to the main target as the others confront against any other's reason to win. It has not surprisingly removed any opposition as to remain direction against the cruel odds from war, chaos, pestilence, sickness, misery and all those who follow death.
It's difficult to comprehend through the tyranny, for we Olympian Warriors form the Jew Merkaba as a mental portal as well, a driving force from the decision of ones consciousness and ascension out from the darkest transformation as to rescue a generation or moment. But what will we do, when Zeus himself has lost his light. Non of this dark myth would me mentioned again.
The legend of the occult and how the works of the divine entangle throughout history are for those to unfold it, I'm only a witness and warrior sister. Some of us God's with twisted elasticity of thinking, great value to us also during the long years of the exodus keeping alive the flame in the hearts of the people and the promise of tomorrow, it can found in the multiplicity.
But what mortals would pray, this shall not be read aloud, for the symbols of Death hold deep meaning of wealth and change. Gradually, there is nothing when you have the power to foresee it all. The material is only a quantum jump.
And nothing is left for the memory who broad you in the matching extensions, could recall for an instance to have loved and killedby many names Natasha, Black Widow is one of my names, gave my soul for a soul. No one shall know whom it was, the avenguers are only a parallel time, as each one side to side on their own doings and back.
Flash backs unchained one after the other in the laps of two seconds and half, many names were guarded as a point of reference by the result of an agency. We are all Gods, passengers with a ticket mission. Names, names, many names, always the same story so I fleet prepared by the times recomposing.
In the World World II as in the 50ths recruiting heroes.
Back in Gotham City simply watching as a detective.
Overviewing from the future of Mara Jade, the timeline makes you smaller.
You learn to survive without a hand jumping sides, from the light to the dark with the thrill buzzing your weapon alone around the field. Nor crossing with one another's boundaries, reframing ones mind is an antidote and promise as if to be honest, is to know death.
Its not easy, it comprised most of a continuation, you have to be I It grooms to harness the information you conceive. You know you wish to never be alive again for a period of time the transition is pulls you in a state of coma, alpha, the existence of that movement is not of a lost.
It might to the extend of the other a frame cut from infinity in which you are called, ready to be aligned.
The horizons open before, reaching new levels of characterisations among the heroes and Gods many not even knowing whom is really whom and what each is capable to do to brake the alignment so they become number one.
Could perceive the departing energies and realities who bind our minds forwarding in and out towards a destiny. But did they know what death meant? Ultimately not, that is get for me to be digested.
Most of the Gods left Olympus by Hera's premonition and order, we had split into other Universes as the Pantheon ruptured, shredding down into the planet earth by unseen pieces of inspiration to waken the people up. Evolving change. We need more leaders to raise with the New Dawn, Goddess Eos.
That day when the change lasts forever was ready in mind, body and soul not as a member of the Justice League but as an Olympian Warrior siding the Amazons.
With a high pitch mind penetrated the astral plains towards Goddess Diana. "Warrior sister, when you are ready!" Exhaled with excitement to hear the realm from the realm, a notion in time to a place who is vague to me as to anticipate by the unfolding events. It launched from each puzzling scenario.
As we had the Faiths she could recall of the Owl with dual faces, Janus the spirit and wilder of past and future to the Amazons, such strings pull us to define a bloody lake, there will be death. I was given the mental focus to see what Hera had prepared me to see the symbol of death within my intuition, as a dial number who is connected through you to reach you when he is about.
Its not easy, it comprised most of a continuation, you have to be ready to die it happens over and over again, although by weeks, months or years, it grooms to work to harness the information.
You wished to never be alive again unless its all given to the fight. The existence of that period is not of a lost. It might to an extend of the other who frames a cut from infinity in which you are called, ready to be aligned. "First of all, have you seen the symbols of death? Yep, Darkseid is coming" Let's say that Nike the Titan was later named Athena, after beheading Pallas. "No, the Faith never told me, come on!"
Was holding a mobile so people see me talking with the phone line, she was in a realm which never stops among all of us warrior sisters, but changes come to be made, specially to those who deny it, this endless journey seems to have never station.
How does the Universe operate in full detail? If I'm to reunite with the cosmic concept of my assistance for adventures and projects, to those whom are essential to go beyond... for the war who took place in our Galaxy, why am I able to hold back and instance, to remembered how a community of heroes and wise investors planning to linger on, not obliterated by the ancient civilisation's architecture but the expansion to innovate at every step could simply pact multiple actions on different stages at hand. I wan't to be here you know, whatever is going on there and here again, is like the spider who nets, back and forth, knots without speaking at length picking up the empty spaces as if there is nothing and yes funding a body who provides independence, expected to report who needs what and what for. Then you see the architecture of thousand hundred generations who fleet away and carry the same mission we have today. It's my job, a few of us are elected to change the routes of history as far in the future you might know it.
"Yes is Natasha, are you on time! I'm on time, what? What is the time on this planet, really? The show started, are the boys dressed? Nah, come on!" Tooled down the caller and kept walking with my thoughts along. A spy in planet Zeltron, they named it. A grid pattern of monumental walls and roads let me to the idea of studying the panorama, did I have time in advanced to prepared. No. Had to place bits of info with plenty of business rolling in out, data being erased, the energy system twisting its price in new investments, I'm not alone in the changes, being worn by the numbers carried away inspect the invitation card once again, elsewhere would be a mistake to recover my mind, chaotic thinking, ultra sensor paranoia, sounds turned into noises, how would I be able to calculate a creature's strength and keep on check my movements in this repeating contest, the mission will be easy, get open minded and drunk, party dance, get generous information. Look for new talents, switch targets. The Avengers can go on their adventures without me, along the way who knows what might happen if they need me, if they know I still exist. They have gone so far, they are capable of anything to sustain suspense in the air without holding back, who provided the cash for this trip, Tony. I can't be tracked with Bitcon.
The more I walk, the more I see a world that has been industrialised for centuries without conscience or compensation to its arid nature, just like las Vegas. At least is not the epic hideout show from Budapest. Is all out there, people going to places, planetary species and what not. In this city people dressed glamours not like the mask and googles in other planets. The less I need is to find Thanos in Krakoa, let the Mutants deal with him for while. Mmmm, a soul for a soul, what a fight to die for! Eventually everyone must be grateful for the instance of a pause and there is peace on earth, at least we got only a 10% of human lost not the 50%.
A Holliday, remember whom am I from impacts and disorders, the clash, one thing I've remembered to not change some things, there are patterns and plenty of architectonical space to figured out what is the cost and weight to be measured, what matters most, me? An enemy a friend. Those questions will never be solved in some cases you have to see the extension of the balance plates if you are fully aware of the whole, those strings never lie to you, as if I'm one without the other, sides taking sides, a dagger without edges is not me. You will be a powergul enemy if you think I'm agreable to tyrany. Then cleared away, you ask a simple question. Were expensive foreign luxuries in this place? Because I'm all for shopping metal bikinis. Laughed kindly for the habit of meeting new faces.
Keep your think layer uniform. You are in that constant reception for entering at the wave of movement, it sometimes feels as if connecting with all. Blinded, with a level of settings, let my impulse burn me and jump, end myself If I must to help end this war.
So that day in the Ellium sistem woke up with the girls byt he shouts of the Queen of Mars, it was a false alarm that the boys started dancing, we made the way and for some reason silented during the night, they are all jolly in this timeline, plenty of historians whom purchase objects of technological value, rescuers of old traditions from the dooms and left overs each era, it was a federations of nations in vacation, democracy of sorts, could smell it in the air, not hereditary in many. The Queen of Mars picked this place for a reason.
My mind workaholic, first encountered to fulfil the promise of images whom represent a symbol of continuation, estimated this planet has been used in ways we never dared, terraforming, if they the conception of such schemes. There is a solid problem to detect, underneath it the stuff. Looked at the girls doubtfully and the surveillance, the climate disturbance is not music, is not my brain, the idea of being stress is not plausible. At the mids of madness I know there is something going on, listened carefully at their movements, about the interference in human history by an agency unknown to mention my personal memory is pronounced to carefully detect unexplained phenomena such as your own existence, why are you doing in this place.
Dejah hosted the guest and partially something crossed her mind, or she really liked someone typical secretive woman to her feelings or she pressed the brakes to not let herself be read. Delightfully beautiful, indeed, generous to an extend showing the occasion. An yet my mind working.
"Yes, well" The cup was served and we wen't to places, "I don't have fun, in a long, long time" Bounced my shoulder to Queen Chocolate Tyr, defender of the solar system. "Are you serious, what is happening in Hades?" Salute to the everyone startled by the cuder philosophy styles they carried, I'm a stranger in space but the unexplained is better than understanding the miraculous, once out, we don't question, we just accept sometimes this phenomena. "All save to you, thank you for the making"
Fine, it's then that as closer it seem to get the case going the more you piece the puzzle, my throat burns by the thought of him, my chest tightens if he is a criminal and all right I've done my own serial killings, but is the pain that remained in me from all those victims, the fact that I'm still human to believe a single person could click on my imaginary without even touching me, and the interrogatory from the fatal fem's, what if it was me? Given the scenario.
Each time I inhale put more lipstick because I'm eating the colour from lips wondering the leftover answers they told me, it sticks on the fire of my brain between my Intelligence. I sure they all got a story to tell, was reading the back story as a fanatic. Their affectionate voices, embarrassed to say he had sympathy for the woman's body as if was breeding Goddesses for financial gain. An entertainer by nature, never meet the solidification that from start of the day and till end soothed my detective mind into an entranced fantasy, the more questions the more embarrassment to say the mystic magic to truck him down would be inevitable impossible to meet, unapologetic. Financially draining to catch this man. Ruthless. Amazingly has overcome nothing to bring me down, how dangerous his people are. Who knows if anyone is able to enter his facilities.
But, no, no his touch brings anyone closer to the level of his drunken genius. I diren't know any better, diren't care, had to find more clues, such as generating an attention and devotion that is irrational. Beautiful, wild and free. Antagonising in Gotham City, not ready to go anywhere, f*** Jupiter and Mars, the Nordic Halls, feed my body to the Lion at least if I get a clue, if one such as me could pull this off, is the scariest thing i'd ever do. Then I'd know there is more to follow. You see, when you negotiate with a network the content gets so unique, you get to select the swings and slides of what they tell you, note down what's the noble thing to do. I'ts incredible to a bravado point the climax of this investigation is getting me approximately ready for a Federal Warn. 88.000 in misappropriated assets and bunch of rats in the neighbourhood of Gotham City behind the master mind. Whomever had nothing to loose is learning, treasuring suveniers of him with a collection of works. With all the professional advice and still, he has me so behind, an undercover agent camouflaged into his wildlife, roaming as his animals, how lower could I get. This is ridiculous, he must have a twisted d*ck to playfully run so I catch him and I'm all the reason of why you are here. Come on, what is my role today, getting the truth or getting him?
"Are you in the side of the Government or in the side of his team?" It was a simple question, that woman would not let him go so easily, non would at all. People won't tolerate abuse, when is donne by an speciallist they become possesive becoming ready to pay any price. That face is familiar, you get to know them closer, year after year, is the same face you put after taking an active role to get a murder for hire and I'm in the way.
You could anticipate the events and go around the situation without a way out, asking to please, please, don't tell me you could do this for another decade and still letting the crimes run against you. She won't set him up or turn him in to me, no she would call him and then I'd get the most notorious arseholes to tell me more and why and still, there he goes making the rules king do above the law driving me also insane, but who wan'ts to have him on a lockdown, jumping from place to place to at least return, as everyone knows he's an incontrollable freak deprived in a zoo he owns.
Revenge, forgiveness, between the powerful and the hopeless let that day. Because whom am I after all, wanting to catch this criminal, this beast? To free the guilt who incriminates him, could already watch his profile with a lost alternative. By the time had gone, my name is mark on the list of players to win over me. And I know it from long ago, and it was my choice to reunite enough evidence so I'd be the one to nurture his resentment, the idea still reaches me sometimes with rhetorical questions. To have him eating in my hand with a pitiless laugh, speaking so to the voices in my head, shocking my head as if I'm rightful to do so. By the time I fantasied about it the assassin was hired for the happening, definitely not good. Nothing philosophical or artistic of mine to continue, not even showing a barrier of my intentions, my colours changed the more I'd asked, straight to the max. "Kill me if you can, was asking I'm going to have him" My breast gave the her the heavy heart bits too loud from the centre of my being.
So far, had experience so little with my new game that the City flickered the lights asking me as I looked at the avatar of Gotham's ghost in general, watching it all, buildings blurring and despairing at the distance as the real question hit me back to the point, and there was the darkness glowing at the bottom and neither was affected by the game, the controls had no effects, try something different, a red dress, show your neck and naked shoulders, try to move on in a location were he could zoom into my back, get into the intricate movement of legs as I slowly walk into the terrance, many days opening the curtains of my fabulous room so his eyes could visit me, could also had warn an exquisite wardrobe but systematically wished to possessed him over by the features of my body so maybe he maddens too by searching in his.
Hey, you know the girls get wet arse crazy and non you could blame as you'd wish to try the piece of information yourself, climb into his portfolio as one of his victims, that trick of the light on the side while the wind waves the thin material easily than if it's a think concentrates the sensation of attraction under the moonlight serenading and trust me as an imbecile, have pose hours, days tumbling my lips loosing oxygen, so to speak if he was ready to meet me. Go back to the living room to look at myself in the mirror and touch the upper side of my thigh around my lower arse, well, hey if you miss it, if you don't want this golden skin to slightly pay your electricity. I need you to know the voltage whom needs to energice you in my reason.
He never came, never he did tell me the seconds I dreamed for the fantasy of replacing the idea of him with his jaguar material. All those nights carrying a candle of hope aside my bed table, distorting the reality between imagining things with a control remote to do what I wan't when nothing is there to listen in the room, but his voice, the voice of what the girls told me about him that was most likely hot, something moved inside of me, whom ever had me working to get him was forgotten to fumble by feel he was watching, for just a second at least, he'd come with the same words he whispers and dances to the girls, to just a sudden ending, just like her, and her. For me.
But it was not really my story, he does a very good job of holding his place together, piece by piece id recover every inch without loosing any information to press him, somewhere between the obtainable and the infinite, pictured he too would had heard that a detective was after him. Left those impressions to mark well that he'll get to know from me, for him to visualise that holding a place in my regard to search him would stop only if he gives in. And there are so many dangerous people around him, his lionesses and tigers. Whatever was is happening they stick their legs through the roof, could hear them coming after me, just above and ready.
There is nothing good in this city, nothing good for me. I van feel the energy bounces me back, cruel, sharp tongued girls, evil woman such as me, he was being discreet to the point I'd desire to know more, what is it that he does to them, does he cushion them underneath to give them the power that moves them to follow his impulse. They work for him, willing to do anything to have him more and now I'm on the edge of not giving him to the law, but.. its too farout, to late.
Shoot in the head, just when I got to meet one of his informants that night, it all changed when I pour myself a hand over the air to have his bussiness card, not caring what anyone would think. Not caring for the consequences.
You get to know you were human, you get to remember you are a Goddess and flopped down as a mere mortal clicking the ends, what you feel is the last cold of the concrete floor atop that building terrance, and the many times you tried, the values you placed in the weariness aside the law to rise up among those who managed the fortune of a genius. One whom believed in wilderness, a sort of another world perhaps never discovered. My blood smelled as any ordinary one and still in my last breath grasping this bittersweet flavour before closing my eyes thought it was a luxurious idea.
Not moving, not my feet, not that a re-usable body being left behind as now float titling as one of Gotham City's light, creating more shadows than Illumination in the mid air, formed a third, forth, fith and sixth dimension of invisible light with a seventh and multiple ones across the the distance of landscapes in this eternity whom as well welcomed me to the realm of the soul.
And there is she is as my spirit entered the parallel, raising up, accepting the consequences who had stopped me Samsara's hand pulls me wired up as I check up by flashes a chain of events who relate me to him in my death. The Goddess of Balance could had broadened her smile hopelessly corrupted by the nordic Gods as she gave a soul for a soul, or was me who gave mine for him, or was mine taken for another, instinctively rose for the need of the momentum, compelling an inner vision whom is as unpredictable as impossible and repetitive in wanting my ends in this intimate deadlock. A living aspect where no progress could be made, which opposing parties, winter fighting spring, raptured by the a season to whom was not pushed, nor asked but shoot abruptly to get out.
Hushed into myself the last thoughts of my mortal self into the immortality of my Goddess self.
"Now go, what are you waiting, you don't belong in this place, forgive your human desires, your vanity to substantially have it all in a godless bacchanalia, gaze at the multitude for a the last time and let go, you don't fit"
My Goddess spirit of immortal sequence let alone the punishment of wanting a rebellious interaction to push my lowest instinct into the holiest, polluting my death as a decent woman who deserved to be touched, forgiven by the desire of also tasting the other side of the law, it plainly resonated under my limitations, if formed that part of God whom wished to belong to an act of devotion. Idolising still the memory of his picture under the clip of my file and documents, on my desktop, on my wall stringed to places and events.
"Not a Ghost, I don't wan't to become a ghost looking for him!" Shouted back to my Goddess self, while Samara witness that my chapter take place after place and she came to cut my story for hers.
"Then listen to your heart and follow the Goddess of Balance, if I'm Goddess of Victory, remember this is only a short story, you are no mortal to hold a small side into it" Bowed my spirit in sorrow, in the front row of a city who had no joke for tomorrow, no category to follow, nothing to trust or invent, perhaps if I was paralysed he'd come to me, he never did even step. I'm not that special as it thought to be.
"I shall be free after death, why is this not happening, all I've ever study is about him, all I've ever work, including my sex eduction" But no amount of gratitude ever finds forgivesness towards myself for wanting the some of him, could justify that my body in his realm is dead, if never existed.
"You can could had die of cancer, eating up in spite yourself, forgive yourself and let go" My Goddess like asked me applaud to die as I replied "Let me ask him for forgiveness then, I'm not complete, I'm not a Goddess without him, wanted to convert him into my rituals" Sated to the strangest immortal of myself, watching desires dissipate, illusions, the Maya, called from the rear separation from madness to the spiritual.
"I guess I learned from this university called life into this primordial ooze, pulled by an ancestor's quality were the material has not align the reality" Leaned forward watching back to one day return, still figuring out who is behind. "I'm not that special, it was not for one night that I wan't him its to an entire life, an eventual existence." Heard myself to no reserve knowing I'll be stronger and cautious.
Spirits as tidal rivers of light in the sky, travoises through the heavenly branches at the end of the tree of life a white system protects the power of eight trillion to thousand Gods as we our wings privilege dipping its feathers with an opulent flight whom united us jointing where the oceans cave prevails, to the best in us at the Æsir's Hall. "Damn Samsara, lets go to Mars, really, I'm done with the Norse Gods and the Southern, the Cities of this world too, its man and woman hiding me on my death, if I'm to rebirth lets first meet the female energy of our own future with the cosmic girls"
Some times you become a divided spy, the woman section of the ground floor was empty, the investigators investigating investigators and the escalators who led upstairs to the men's section with a huge poster of a model in pink lingerie hangs on the club defining my nearing heart quickening fear. Once have pass from the open plan. Showering after the blood sprayed, who thought they gathered the product right here and I had been played till I found out, there was no other chance than shooting. My cover is working, at least they think I'm a sort of detective on the side of the justice minding my own business, using dancers as informants, but hey. The closer the night enters and the sudden the foot steps, that won't be making you a hero in Gotham. Whomever it was walking possibly unobtrusively as possible, not natural, the rhythm is controlled as if for the first time. Calculating the time.
Got dress in a few seconds, is not easy being a divided spy, you get to befriend them all, it feels deep enough the compromising material to hurt them, checking on the reflection in the mirror, still no sign moved backwards it turned around looking back at the entrance, I knew it, is not from the club.
Coming out from the changing room held on the rim of my panama hat sensing with surveillance the peripheral vision, was walking towards her, and then she saw me, turning her onto a sort of cannon, but the light brown jacket was exactly the same as mine, she was much alert than the woman I had seen in Somerset House that day. Thought she was intending to introduce herself with the gun on her side to kill me.
Sometimes you are ahead, some others you are behind, but is not always who shoots first. Was not going to waste time on informational jealousy or whom is wearing anti-bullet protective cover under the jacket. I'm not afraid of the dark, but reinventing myself all over again that will never happen. Integrity is getting your path to guard confidential agreements in breach of sensible information who trades the crafts for the associates.
She held her gun back in her pocket, it was like she was sleeping on her dreams, her looking dress pyjamas and the eye recognition of whom I'm truly, decoded a certain reward. Told her nothing, if she remained silence her life will continue, whom ever would shoot first was not the matter, after all, learning is a process. The Administration deals what the finest agents double the price.
She turned and walked back towards the entrance, going down the stairs to where she came from. To my intense relief, because I'm also human to some degree, you never really get to know what is in the other side of the coast, on my part is not much about controlling someone else or wishing them a death, If I can use that energy an only major impact so it roles for it all, but finding out if the toxicity of a virus would come part of my immune system by the threat of no other choice or death. Got down, picked up a white block to note, then walked directly towards a table on the V.I.P. area. Electricity on the air by the movements between the dancer's legs, my cover, invisible to any passer by, which confirmed that the meeting could safely go ahead.
As she sits and picked the drink then the gun after seen the man walking into the upper room, because they were all Gotham's people for the elections of the Mayor in Gotham, murders jointed by the Gotham City Police Department to combat Delta Force, Oswald the Pinguin has many resources, he even tried to kill Jim Gordon the detective I worked for. With Batman alongside who vowed not to let him take over their city. The Fish Mooney's Nightclub started to be filled.
"How much do you wan't for your silence, power?" Asked her with ambiguity as if her interpretation of the truth is worthless once my question has been stablished for the commune affairs, potentially very dangerous. "Money, and fast I got my relations to handle my power thank you." The uncirculated air in the underground club is getting kind of dense, if I could protect myself from scrutiny turning the cards of the game faster, she seem soulless. "Did you sleep with him?" It would change it all, she would be his if she did, I know it from precedent information.
She added a few argumentative illusions about the extend to which people want and need a cause for each other's harm, political classes, exhausted by the effort of not giving me the answer nodded showing her under my hat an eye before the other. She confessed trying to make a difference in the world, to avoid the clash of systems and personalities and as I deepen her mind she told me about the night with him.
"It was coarse sex, you won't believe me if I tell you that I nearly feel in love with his insatiable satisfaction, more than a wonderful lover he is probably telling the truth with his body, its not easy to get sensible from him you know?" She stretched her leg above the table crossing the other one adding suspension to advise me, I'm known to pay well for it. Extended the eye with a curving nod for her to continue. "So, have I?" Admitted the passionate by the way she hid her inner extremities and at the time she wished to show them off, how the night owning excess still palpitated over her skin, possessing her to desire him all over again, touching the horizons around her body she thought about the night with an open mouth, her silence talked with imprudence as I asked her to not name him, she seem just as happy as the other girls whom I've investigate, although one girl did write to me "We always got on well physically, it's just that he is such a bastard he gets away by having it all" They all alerted me, they're all probably telling me the truth, not the truth I wan't, having sex all the time. It might help me identify some commune problems to profile him. "So tell me, there is a War coming, the dead bodies dropped in the river of Gotham" I knew why, but I had to seem as if I was worried for the next one and asked her why. "He feels free to indulge in harmless deviations, biting, gnawing chunks of flesh from each other, then he goes on a rampage killing the imperfects appearing to be agreeable to the alliances with the mobs, making them fight each other." It was disturbing, I'm not going to lie to myself. I hate this job, hiding all the time, hiding. Conceding intimidate request to match the information is one thing, to fall in the sins of the city, another. She gave me the address noting Victoria Vale would be there.
It was the third body in as many weeks, killed in the exact same fashion as the last two. Her throat had been slit, a very clean cut. She would have bled out in moments before she knew what had even happened.
"Why would anyone want to kill a nun?" Wally asked, the flashbulb blasting as he took another picture of the body.
Joshua just shook his head, not sure of the answer. "The note says the same thing," he responded. He picked up the blood-covered note and began reading it. "The earth burns in impurity, decaying with humanity's touch. Purity belongs only in Heaven, for I will be their guide," he read.
"How did he know this nun was pure?" Wally asked, writing down a few notes on his notepad.
"She was a nun Wally, most would get the impression that she was, plus she can't be more than nineteen years old. She hadn't had time to even live her life," he responded. "She's safe with you now, protect us while we protect others," Joshua whispered as he stood.
"We've got a witness!" Cheif Bradley shouted as he burst through the doors. Everyone's attention turned to him all at once. "A woman across the street said that she saw a hooded figure come out the church doors. He went into Johnny's next door, and just disappeared."
"Let's get over there then!" Wally said. He had always had so much energy, ready to chase down every lead at a moment's notice. As much as Joshua envied his energy, he knew it would lead to trouble one day.
"Hold on Wally! Johnny's been very good to our station. Lets not all burst in there and tear the place down. Let's wait until tonight, and then Joshua can go in."
Wally was obviously angered that Joshua would be the main detective on the case. "Why is Joshua leading this one? He is always the lead!"
"Because he will keep a level head at Johnny's." The chief replied. The words felt like a slap in the face. He knew it was true there. The last time he had gone to Johnny's, he had gotten too drunk to investigate anything. Joshua hadn't had a single sip of alcohol since returning from the war.
With nowhere else to go, they knew it was time for lunch. The hardest part of being a good detective was waiting. That was what made Joshua the best out of all of them, he had patience that seemed almost limitless.
The flathead engine of the Ford roared as he pulled into the parking lot of his house. He could see movement from within the house and knew the rest of his family had the same idea of coming home for lunch.
As he pushed open the door, the strong and delicious smell of steak caused his stomach to realize how long he had been without food. "I'm home!" he called out, hanging up his hat beside the door. He took off his tan trench coat and hang it on the hook beside his hat.
"Welcome home sweetheart, lunch is almost ready!" Angel's melodic voice came from the kitchen.
"It smells delicious!" he called to her. He stopped his steps when he saw freshly developed photographs laying on top of the table. They were of the second crime scene, the nurse who had been killed.
He glanced up when Jacob came out of his room, stopping when he saw that his father had seen the photographs. "Jacob, I told you to stay away from these crime scenes!" he said, trying to keep the bite of anger out of his words.
"The paper needs to print this stuff dad, this city needs to know what is going on."
"But it is extremely dangerous. Whoever this killer is, is obviously a professional," Joshua shot back.
"Please no fighting during lunch!" Angel called from the kitchen.
"Don't worry, I can't stay. I have to get back to the office," Jacob said. He began gathering the photos, and Joshua noticed one of Melanie. Before Jacob could pick it up, he had grabbed it and looked it over.
"Does she know that you are taking pictures of her son?"
"That's private!" Jacob said, snatching the picture of the lounge singer from his hands. "I only take pictures while she is singing." He raced out the door before Joshua could say anything else.
As much as he wanted his son to be happy, he doubted that he would find happiness with Melanie. She worked at Johnny's, a place that could rip joy from the heart, and easily tore families apart. He sat down at the kitchen table, releasing a loud sigh.
"How was class today?" he asked Angel as she carried in their plates.
"It went well, the children are making wonderful progress," she said, her smile bright, but it held a hint of sadness.
"What's wrong?" he asked, but she motioned to the food, and he knew immediately what she meant. They both bowed their heads, thanking their Father for the food they had been given.
"I think Jack is still hitting Scott," she finally said, once the prayer was over. Joshua released a deep groan as if hearing the words caused agony deep in his soul. Scott was the quietest and sweetest kid in Angel's small class, but his father was by far the meanest.
"He came in with more bruises today. He's started striking him in the face," she said. She was fighting back tears as she spoke, and rage began to build in his heart. Knowing he was hurting the boy was bad enough, but now he had made Angel cry. Whoever did that, instantly landed on his bad side.
"I will talk with him tonight," he told her. She looked up from her meal as she took another bite.
"Don't hurt him, darling, please just talk with him," she pled. He remained silent for several moments.
"Don't worry sweetheart, I will just talk with him this time," he promised her.
With nothing left to do for the afternoon, they spent the day together. The children had gone on a field trip with Mrs. Hadley, meaning Angel had the rest of the day off, and Joshua didn't have to be anywhere until Johnny's opened for the night.
"I wish we could stay like this forever," Angel whispered, her head laid on his chest. Her soft fingers gently traced the scars that were on his chest. She knew the story behind every single one of them, but still wished she could have been by his side when he had gotten them.
"I know," he whispered, softly kissing the top of her head.
"Did you ever think a soldier turned detective and a simple elementary school teacher would ever fall in love?"
He gently lifted her head, staring into her brown eyes. "You are far more than just a simple teacher to me," he said with a smile. Another kiss, which he wished could last forever was shared. He knew it couldn't though, as the night was slowly beginning to fall upon them.
"I have to go up to Johnny's, we think the killer might be there," he explained, breaking the kiss.
"Please be safe," she begged him.
"Don't worry, I always am."
His movements had been silent, not waking Jack up. It wasn't until he had placed his hand over the man's mouth, that he was awakened. He tried to yell into the hand, but his sound was blocked.
The figure who stood over him was shrouded in shadows, he couldn't make out a face. "I know you are hitting your son," the figure whispered into his ear. "As should be apparent, I can easily get into your home. If you don't stop hitting him, you will be in for a very rude awakening."
Jack shut his eyes, hoping it was all just a bad dream. When he opened them, the figure was already long gone. He couldn't tell if it had been a bad dream or not, but something told him that it wasn't.
Jack's house wasn't far from Johnny's, which was Joshua's original destination. It if hadn't been for his job, he would never step foot inside Johnny's. The smell of cigarette and cigar smoke alone always made him want to leave.
He hated alcohol, and he hated just as much watching others destroy their lives by getting drunk every night. As he sat down on one of the barstools, he removed his hat and set it on the stool next to him.
"Here is what I see before me, vividly and clear. As I recall, you were in it too~" The melodic voice filled the bar. Joshua found himself turning, to see Melanie standing on the stage.
She was no older than his son, with long brown hair and fair skin. He knew his son found her beautiful, and he didn't blame him. His son didn't just like her though, he had fallen head over heels for her. As much as he tried not to judge anyone, he doubted anyone working in a place like that could love his son as he deserved.
"Is it true that you hit Hitler in the face?"
He turned to look at the drunk questioner beside him. It was Herold Jaspers, a man who was drunk almost every night. He wasn't sure how the rumors about him personally fist fighting Hitler got out, but he let them circulate, it made the criminals afraid of him.
"Go home Bobby, you are drunk," he told him, his gaze returning to Melanie. He could see a strange apprehension in her eyes as her gaze met his, and he realized she knew something.
The moment he realized she was a witness to something, he stood up from his barstool. "Did you want anything to drink?" the bartender asked, although he already knew the answer. Before Joshua could race on stage to get answers, he noticed movement backstage.
"Stop, police!" he called out, pulling his Smith and Wesson Model 27 from the holster hidden beneath his coat. The entire bar continued their drinking around him, having seen enough craziness to just ignore it.
He ran on stage and rushed past the curtain. The backdoor was wide open, and he ran out into the cool night. A hooded figure was racing off towards the nearby neighborhood. "Stop!" Joshua shouted. He fired off a few shots, trying to hit the figure in the legs.
The figure's movements were too erratic, and all three shots missed. Joshua chased after him, sprinting always being one of his strong suits. He heard a family screaming, as the figure broke through their window and into their home.
He leaped through the open window and found himself standing in a home office. His eyes scanned the dark office, and he noticed movement behind one of the leather couches. A large dagger was thrown and stuck the gun in his hand.
He couldn't hold his grip, and the gun fell to the floor. Another dagger was tossed, and with incredibly quick reflexes, he picked up a book from the desk and used it to block the large knife.
By the time he was setting the book down, the hooded man was rushing at him from behind the couch. He easily blocked a strike from a third dagger, which had been aimed at his chest. He hit the man in the chest, knocking him back, and used his knee to strike the man's stomach.
He finally got a good look at him. He wore the robed of a monk, but they were solid black. His hood blocked his face completely, but he knew it was a man. He had little time to make any other observations because the man struck back with his own fists.
He was quick, incredibly so. He had been trained, possibly in the military. His reflexes were almost as quick as Joshua's, able to get three hits on Joshua's chest, although luckily he had disarmed him of the dagger.
He grabbed hold of Joshua's jacket and tossed him over the desk. Joshua found himself on the floor, something that hadn't happened in a very long time.
"Stop investigating me, and tell your son to stop too, or you will both be very sorry." His voice was deep, but he sounded around Joshua's age.
"Who are you?!" Joshua yelled as he finally pulled himself up. The man was gone, no trace except the daggers he had left behind. The noise of police sirens filled the silence. He grabbed the knife from the book it was in and ripped it out. The word Purity was etched into the blade.
He used his eyes to measure the blade and knew it would be a perfect match for both the nun's wound and the nurse's too. He had come face to face with the murderer, and he had almost lost.
Wishing your dreams to come real and your writings to help you find the truths, the broken DNA that is corrupted DNA as well in it's transmissions of information and channels among polarities beyond the self of the entity as such. We are energetically bound more or less and when it brakes is because of something called the shadow aspect.
Do please feel welcome in bringing characters who will act on this shadow aspects, the parts who are broken or misunderstood, sometimes you might even fall in love with them and turn them to evolve.
Building Character
It won't matter how many years you are making characters, its impossible to say you are good at it because the list is infinite and unknown. its certainly truth that the more naive and egocentric you are, specially the good type of person you think to be in order to cause approval from parents, teachers and society the worst developer of characters will be in you. You are so attached to the idea of being your self in all your characters that anyone can read your desire and selfishness thinking you will be alive producing this kind of reality.
To a certain extend, this people never advace as free thinker. Are the easiest to manipulate so they serve you, a commune chapter so they keep serving you will do, it won't need much effort. They only need approval, a little pat on the shoulder and they will be the nicest servants. Most of all could never build their company or have a global commune sense, they follow orders and are very good learners to copy.
Authenticity
You ask your self as a role player, why am I role playing?
1) to have fun
2) to make friends
3) to feel connected
4) seeing the same characters feels familiar
5) the sense of belonging among stories and likes
6) self development
7) I want to be a publish writer
8) I want to support the rp community because I believe is more that stories
9) Is my religion
10) I love to study
11) psychology is boring characters are further fun and non analytic, it moves on.
12) it involves all the arts that I wish to learn
13) it might help me understand my fellow ones in this world, perhaps I can do a better world
14) Other reason can apply like escapism and peacefulness what is highly inspiring.
Non of this might come to ring when it comes to authenticity, are you really giving your best? Is it just a self report to let know you still exist, to keep up the likes?
Would likes define your authenticity or we need to work and re-value on liking what is truly authentic as original? Not to have likes back for no reason but the likes. It that makes you click, you might be clicking 14 hours without satisfaction, unable to find a climax, to sleep overtaken and great full of the recollection. As a chain smoker who is not enjoying a single cigarette and needs another.
I know when the stories are empty, well writing and I know when the board is exited, can feel the spirit of each as the whole. It will make you stand up to applause, go out and do something, its a pull. Unfortunately some have to learn how important are others, why do you want to do other people's character? Lack of authenticity and integrity to a story who needs the bond among all its characters. Some characters take a brake and writers take their space it happens simultaneously, sometimes is agreed on the private along old players.
Naturally a character makes bond with one character, you have to hate yourself deep down so much you have to prove you are better to copy someone's character, you need the approval so bad that you will destroy others to have that, but it never feels loved deeply. Is not a giving gift. You cut the writer inspiration and all those who loved their character in relation. It has been proven, over and over again, in more than a decade and half. It won't work in a group.
Its fine, let it role, everyone needs the interpretative art of this admired character. Fine, but there is no authenticity. For me there is one Tony Stark, one Thor, no matter if they have their free will and do as they wish, in my mind I bring reference to one as such.
When there are groups in RP, back then, there were more confrontations among groups, a certain verse of patriotism, class or shade in the spectrum to belong and more fun, a reality given, every character was unique as such. Authenticity is a must, braking the rules who define a character or verse in relation with others is something a person would do to understand the inside of the body unless you can studied from another perspective from someone who had cut in pieces a corpse.
If we have a Thor, why would you make a Thor, don't you love your friend Thor, what is the problem? Black Widows we need more, because woman need a Black Widow, in SL there were many Black Widows in the Black Widow program, we don't see many woman out there to have their image from the movies, it takes months to pick a female character that fits to you. And I was a comic illustrator and script writer, was ask for dates (sex) non read a single page, my character are not looking for dates really, is not the main theme. Its not easy for woman to be catalogued for only that, we can also use toy boys, and we will find they also have other attributes IC to the story. This is the phenomena of Black Widow, is because of her and a character and function to the whole story, not because of her sexual relationship with whom, whatever he slipped with all or non is not the main theme.
If some of the main characters are not giving you attention, don't copy them, you will bring friction trying to make your own group of friends and you will have to learn so much and also if you know, teach others a bi, will you? Don't make this an auto destructive random place of the moment, help verses to prevail and don't let leaders exist. No one owns anyone, is about knowing how to role the story with others. Helping to build character will let others add to it, loving yourself with the character you build.
How to build Character
A character needs to be studied, everyone will give you a different method but one of the primal essence I look is to feel its sound, how does it breath, how it's the rhythm inside its skin nerve pulse, its heart and mind. This three dimensions in the body can variate, then the voice for me music and sound is very important, is what it will give the movement of the character and the form of speech. The psychology.
Many of you haven't study music, but who hasn't heart or who doesn't love music. You think is not important, but you can me hypnotised and have a mind manipulation just by it, without you knowing it.
The first sense we develop from all is the ear, hearing already from our mothers belly, so become that before building character, is very primal in the universe to listen to the spacial music, a baby inside her mother will tune an adult with the people who sound in the same level of tones as a natural instinct. For example I can't be a man who doesn't have a deep voice, or see him as my superior because of the level of gravity on the males around my mother, my father. Is impossible to relate with those voices who are shouting, to some people is normal, or tight vocals, we will turn without knowing why because its embedded in our being before breathing. Characters exist with their musical tone.
I would play the same song on the piano for weeks, finding different elements and kinds of gravity on the impulse of the taps, giving a little more space or tightening up faster, the whole thing changed totally. Is like the same words used with another rhythm, in lows or nights, the same notes, the same words. Meaning is not a script or dialogue, is not what you are being told, is not false publicity, try to feel one of the first senses whom in many myths was the first existence before all matter, some called it a sound, an idea, two notes having a connection, two making movement, a doer and listener. A message.
Some times, because we live in a fast consuming generation were silence shall bring more space, you will see many writers creating on the same level, a traffic jam with only zero green energy, when you can fly on a ship who has convert it's energy. And you think you are so cool with your car, that is fine because everyone is on that as you do, well no. There are so many pathways and forms to orbit your character and mobile. And you wish it for your self and others too for the world and the play board.
Some characters voice take longer than others to be discovered, achieved. I would sit in the back of a bus in NYC and record the sound from people, normally the crazy sit in the back and the noisy ones. Was studying for a character, yes a black character for sci-fic, not a getto one, need to touch the texture of the sound to move by it, the sound, the gravity, there is always something to the character that will never change, no matter if is more educated, classier of further in the future, it will carry that tendency for generations. This traits are what make a character unique, admirable given the field.
A Complete Character
Many of you know what is to build character, you forget whom you are and dive into the whole existence of what made this individual be, it's not you but you breath through it. In script writing, they ask us to write files about their family, even if you don't see the grandparents in the movie they are written there somewhere beyond the screen, actors get to read all the files too do their own research as well and get to mingle with this kind of people or others entering IC many times, from 3 months before action to 4 and 6 months to get the feel, many of the times between takes are also IC, they need 3 months to get out of character and some had never returned, others confirmed is part of them. The truth is is that it has been Completed, wholly, total, it has been given a life, a voice. Its undeniable to say, you could also act on behalf of a friend or a family member in order to advocate for them. Or a newly dead person, you can channel by their characteristics.
Reading people is not becoming a guru, you simply started studying humanity, animals, components in soil, the air, space, etc.. mechanics, relations in nature, etc... then wualla! You become egoless to understand, if not Doctor Frankenstein at the beginning of forming a characther. You take pieces from memories you liked along the day, or others, books, news, at work, etc... and simplified in one body.
Being in character is one of the most important pillars to a story, to me, the most respectful to honour, besides the scenario and its verse as such.
I had a renown professor of script writing confessing how much he cried when he was writing as the victim and how disconnected he was for the victims feelings as a Tyrant, becoming the character to all it's degrees. While writing the story, the writer is an actor he explained, not just a composer doing things from the outside of a puppet. And this characters are studied as a piano is build on each finer and tap, to play them. You just don't build it without having tasting its sonic function of the sense. Feel.
How does it see the world around him or her and why, and please what is the message of this character. What is his voice, look for the inner voice. I can't believe how many writers are simply filling a hole, stories with no meaning, no music, nothing but good words whom say nothing as cheap music who will never be remembered or played again. Never the less to inspire.
Characters who would never do such a things as well, it has to be believable to the given reality. No consideration for the reality is the lack of connection with reality. Life is difficult, is not simple, you love many people, many people wish to ruin your beauty or self love to everyone. Your powers mean nothing unless you serve to others, unless you belong to another levels of humanoids and all this characters have a certain paradise of being themselves and a certain contrast out there. Make it tri-dimentional at least, minimum. Let it ripple through existence of the collective as one who represents something purely meaningful, it will ring to as many doors it can be opened to be freed.
Maybe because of my OCPD is impossible to make a character role till is complete. Maybe I'm mistaken, maybe you can build character without considering anything, let the image flow and what ever comes from your mouth. In my believe you are running away from someone and you are not authentic to face what are you running from so much. You need to face a diet, smoking too much, being obsessed with someone, you need to face something that is bothering you, creating another character won't help, you will do another and another, and nothing, leaving more characters behind as you create news ones and empty chapters and groups being left. Creating Chaos is not what we need in rp, we have enough in the world, its fine to accept chaos and randomness but re-defining is the work and value who will sustain what rp is about. Building character depends on all this attributes.
Monologues and 1X1
Thanks to the lack of authenticity and the fear of being judged for the sakes of likes, we don't have strong stories who are a saga among all role players and groups, verses.
Because we lack authenticity, because characters are being a copy without respects of what role play used to be. For those who have been there before knowing the ups and downs and further more.
It fragnemtices with no integrity and fear of rejecting one character because of liking another character who is at the same time a character from both writers your feel as friends.
Fish and nets
Ocus pocus
Zatanna
It happened to me in my last story line, It feels like sh*t because even if I don't know them all well, I read them and see them and it sucks to write to one and not the others, it makes no sense at all and a cut of inspiration a, flaw.
Build character as a Villain
If everyone knows the end of the story, there is no thrill in it. But cowards with a lack of imagination and rp skills to role on.
A villian is about being present, in tension, in suspense in the unknown, you might think they know what they are doing, but many times they have no idea but at least give the field to it, the important field of mystery. Its a hock.
Any story can go straight down to hell and let everyone fall flat in the ground without existence, without this fact of uncertainty, unless you are an employee who will die in such a way or get a secure pay check from the government and you have nothing to risk, adventure, trip, solve, bring newness, entrepreneur business in SL and work with other beyond your own shield of security.
Villains come to teach us a lesson, in the most ugly form, evil, unwanted, you name it. Yes, peanut minds think I'm like my villains, as if the writer is a bad person, is fine at least I can relate one given day by good luck with Steven King. I know he is not a drag Queen of horror, nor are many writers who were feared to be as their writings. Is true that it makes ma laugh for people's mediocrity on the aspects of fear and wait patiently on their growth to maybe, harvest a better quality of writers IC for the SL.
I'm a defender of a Villains, you like to be a cute friendly villain to have a likes... :( they also exist.
Sorry Christians were terrorist for 500 years and used to hide in the Lost City of Petra, behind Israel, they were called pagans before, they were seen as evil who would chop heads on a horse martyr themselves in the name of Jesus, just as the Muslim do for whatever God. Hey, is my background and I will defend my history before anyone for the solemn reason of Freedom. There is measure and so much history behind each character so please a single chapter can entail it's whole being as a refined dish.
VILLAINS DON'T NEED
TO DIMINISH OR INSULT
Farewell their very presence shall make you feel all sort of unwanted things all already, everything that is unwanted and rejected is unknown, you won't have to jump on a cliff knowing what it's, nature will frighten you to protect you such as from deadly smells who are not nutritious, but what about using order as compost and not general waist? Meaning bad is bad, it will make you feel bad, but learn or practice, think in the science in the mechanics of an unlikely character who is to be opposed, feared or hated, or unconsciously respected because of it's power and control but yet it makes you convulse for all its reasons against yours. It bring a crucial Element that no one knows so well and needs to be payed attention.
An insult or diminishing tone towards another, is not what drafts a villain. Is the candy of the rapist, hurting you without your awareness of good and evil, yet there is pain and you don't know why if everyone seems to be okay with it, what is wrong? Is the pay check who is cutting away the reason of your live and might give you a sickness or mental deformity to think freely, a villain can be your beautiful wife with beautiful words and service doing something else who opposes your alignment, think about villains, a mother who loves you so much that will turn you gay with the eternal wish to find your inner masculinity with others and if possible reject woman. Make your draft in mind before writing it, if helps this first draft many times comes from the senses not from reason.
To one single character
1) Looking at images and illustrations
2) Separate them by categories
3) Study them with the feel not the reason
4) Search for music, sounds, bits, soundtracks, get their atmosphere, their right ring tone.
5) Take them out when they feel perfect, they will flow out without reason just being.
6) If a shower or bath, or a candle or wireless headphones, can isolate you or refresh you to get IC as a new whole thing away from you, yet with you, then do it, we all have our own needs and rituals to call the muse in. Some never stop, but the body needs caring, the mind can't exist without the body. The sound need a mobile, the spiritual have denied access if is not honouring the material values. You can build great characters and master them, but don't forget the main in you please, this is a whole chapter I shall discuss further on as a role player.
Don't take me wrong, but a Villain has more to tell than the hero, we know what is good, is not a comfortable position, the given imagination to a character that has the power of taking your power or suppressing you, is only a fustrated illusion of something that already exists in you and needs to exit to be it, to conform. Otherwise you would also be doing something else in your RL that is real. Is not the character who brings this up, but your subconscious towards the light, then another character is giving you all this possibilities and you enter in panic because of the trigger. Let every motion exist on the story, including the panic, the shock, being stuck, observant... etc...
Villains are not necessarily smarter, they have to survive many of the times and think in twisted ways to move from the mistakes that keep happening learning more and more in the process. Or less and less having more boundaries as jail or other type of walls and masks. Your concepts of villain might brake down into other meanings. Like being independent, or deserving power, having more sex, or non because of an alter hight, becoming yourself attractive beyond standard measures, who knows what a brake through of a villain can apply? What is so bad anyways if writing is legal.
Here we learn to pick up the apples who have fallen down from the panic or shock, we become serious and pragmatic to place order from chaos. In relation to Villains and as Villains.
Villains need to give space for the SL development to breath it out, to respect others characthers.
Villains can act together for something that correlates to their meaning as a force. Unfortunalty those who studied in public school have not learned to speak with each other to build business, you learned to follow orders and copy this for bringing Villians together is nearly an impossible, the majority see them as the controlling class and are so afraid to share a story for this hidden motive.
Some people come from good families relations and or schools, and know what agreements are and along, how it takes to complete a process of talks through calm times and specific scenarios, into a reality, a toguether doing. There is no need to hide for those who are not anti-social, but need to protect their values, a similar yet totally different approach of how you build the relation of your villains.
A villian has its relations too, even a character who is retrieved will need to eat, go out get food, get a form of paying its bills, there is a something factor out there, its vital, no matter how anti-social it might appear to be. Be presence with their family or promoters for self interest at least to build its persona, its needs.
Study Psychiatric trains for villains and other characters. Every emotion is what builds this character. You know that, remember is not you really give yourself away.
Villains need Empathy
Yeah, and I mean from your own perspective as a writer, I always said it and will hammer it again, a villain needs a certain tone of humour, it can make you laugh or wonder why? It has to bring a little emphatic reason from you to carry on. Understand your enemy if you wish to win, or fine simply be horrified and run away till there is no more story. All I had seen is people being so afraid of being running away that they simply gossip in the private against the writer of the villain and black list, because they are afraid of loosing or being incapable of moving on with the dark given chapter, kid nap, taken, you have to surrender once in a while and your character might die. If you had given so many chapter to that situation, lets face it. What is the maniac behaviour in wanting to control the board, this is why rp sucks with what you did on the last years, now you can't repair it, now you can't say sorry in the private and mention random things on the air without giving the correct address.
Role Play is not a flat story of having likes and coming to see publicity. If you love someone so much tell them in their private, no one cares really, if that is truth it shall be sacred and private.
Writing a Villain has to become an a Binding Oath wit the character to never brake its pure motive, no matter what Thanos did on Endgame, is your Thanos, or whom do you really think General Hux is to the First Order, obviously they had to end the trilogy and make the dark side loose as in every trilogy for the average mass of people who will never mediate or know what is the dark side and how immortality works among pieces of art. Sociologically speaking and medically too. You kill a sickness and a concept whom is not necessarily, but not the average, those whom we condemn as villains are some times heroes. EXTREMIST WHO COME TO BRING BALANCE FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE EXTREME. Delusional or without measure, but they carry a strong reason for the whole to make it a change, maybe not in that direction but to stop the old directions.
Empathy in relating with its all forms. Feel it in first person, become it's channel. Why does it dress in this why, this colours, is not much about what comes out of its mouth. Many of you draw words as if a thinking mind, but lets be honest lets try to feel, feel with all the essence please.
I do everything to be in a no mind state, I don't need to control my walk, I walk without thinking, I learned dancing, I don't need to think about it, such is writing and character, you get to eat and simply taste the given elaborated food, such are our stories. Please elaborate. Please get to feel each character as unique. This will become a law one day, unless you have a different group or go alone trying to moderate or organise your character, this character's existence need their friends and groups with stories to role.
Its a crime to exclude your own talent without giving a space to look at it, you become a reflector, a witness, a free thinker, this is what we need to build a better world, bridges of reflection, transfers of a greater economy frequency real verses who are composed by an unique pattern to role on.
Copies and cuts, recycle and start again. Be part please. A character who is unique can be the same character but is unique for a reason, a very special reason as such.
Female Characters
Becouse of the past history of females before the anti conceptive pills, freedom of vote and thought and freedom of speech and intelligence I will ask all the male writers to bring forwards female characters. Its said our soul female and at least we get to see if when we die.
Whatever, building female character does not have to be a super woman, I feel building a mother, building a real woman, with the ordinary conflicts is essential now days. As Black People fighting for discrimination and to be included, I will ask for respect and for female characters to be more evolved. This is not a male hatred character because you haven't been a loyal supportive good male, you can't maintain one woman, if you have many woman and zero money, no body, no total real true love to no one but your male ego.
Female characters are developing to become more and more unique and complex than the old
Wife
Nun
Prostitude
This were the only choices in the past to exist, and I won't count the ones who were locked down in mad houses for talking truth, such as rape, abuse and child abuse among make class. Woman who lost their inheritance and everything in order to protect a dream of self respect and or inner voice, male who incarcerated them because they were sensitive and smart.
The witch type enter in the prostitude category and the mad woman does not exist to society since is 100 eradicated from the map.
Then you have famele characters afraid of other females taking their place, old ancient story. Lets make this characters more juicy, woman can be top sisters and pretty much fun and smart. Not every woman likes gossips, not at all. Not every woman is zealous or incompetent to relay on peoples likes, not everywoman needs to be a c*ck sucker to exist, or is complacent. Do please woman can have a form of being and thinking that is not as males, but unique and might like healthy males who can adapt to a global conversation for planet earth for example without looking at her body or persona but the shared theme.
I find it so difficult to build female characters because of the male characters ignoring female characters unless you are their lover in the private or serve them with many characters. And this is a free world were no one gets payed, but people seem to be thinking the same. I had never served or followed anyone, I had belong to collectives and think as a participant.
Do please cherish female as Goddesses, we need more beauty on earth and space, more sensibility, more feel, more re-birth, more artistry in the little non-sense of life, we need to stop the fear of being beautiful we won't be abuse nor suffer violence because our beauty. Female character's I adore could name, that I adore, but globally they need more depth and freedom. All this characters need a realisation and true form, specially female characters who are to birth and care for the new generations, thanks of fathers and society relating to them. The future is female and we need to feel that men will become more beautiful and sensitive, and the world more giving with less wars and selfish abuse who is never satisfied. We might need to build new female characters too and discover new pathways as writers too.
Building a child
Children shall be included, in movies such in stories, children shall be always around, it seems as we have an isolated childhood and they we are adults without kids, loosing our childhood. There much to say here.
Building too many characters or having only one
Who can judge or say what is perfect is role play since is an experiment a realisation of your own "I want to do what ever I want and no one is stoping me", but if we can prevent for some to kill them self we will, or killing the play board. Hello?
Could you please step back for one second and count your characters, place them into verses, split them into sections of this verses and ask your self what is the cause of their porpoise. Do you have to be maintaining all this characters? For what?
Is impressive when you start role playing the many characters you do, we diden't really do canon characters, they were historical and written in old style. Scarlet Johnson was not as popular and I confronted many people who disliked her for different movies. I started to support modern writing with her, becoming daughter of the first supporter it wasn't easy at all with all the bullying and harassment specially from female hackers playing with our friends to convert them against us, stating we direct have writing skills like them because we were simply writing modern, or simple. No matter if you did the epic thing with other characters, you are playing an Avatar and the image of this actor or model as well, its not only a game or a fake image, its a representation to given realities.
Make a main character among your main characters to speak honestly and frankly, were your friends can reach you on daily basis, make it easier for the coming years.
Seat with all your characters and have a discussion with all of them, if you need to have 600 good, if you need to have one, bad, very bad, we need the biological variety of twists and twirling existence this planet defines from all others. We shall find joy and super hipper joy in all our characters, even if they go through pages of disgrace, we must search for happiness or enlightenment, what ever make them alive.
If having 600 characters turns you in having 500 bad maintained relations to keep up and you consume your RL in it.
1) Because you need to experience everything you want.
2) Because you need to travel and change
3) Because you need to give likes to your own characters and reviews.
4) Because you need to give likes and reviews to a person you want in RL. I don't think you love this person or is because is talented and deserves it, its self interest now you would let this person be as talented as it's and become more profound in order to match this talent unless you are clinging decoration to post and post.
What is more valuable than 600 empty domains with no connection to a reality, they are all closed as the writer is, grasping. Monologues and 1X1. Do you really think that other readers who have being here so many years don't know who the writer is? Everyone who has been here enough, know were those likes come from and is killing the insertion of those who are more sensitive and need the real.
My always support to Role Playe and those involve, no matter how much you get to hate me, I know is not me, it's you trying to succeed your own darkness which some get to reflect.
Now, must march to my tedious work, fantasy is my playground to shake it off take it easier not so seriously.
This world is too serious
lol xoxo
And wishing to see more of you all
The Writer of
Nike, Natasha, Mara Jade and many other names as an agent.
As imaginative and creative this woman can be, among the characteristics she could adapt to change and innovate through the passing of times return to the fact of being a woman, being transform does help, looking into another as a choreographer of history, from Natzis to self Robot more of a Cyborg.
Turning your head it has always being the reliance of loyalty. The side of a woman, is an extraordinary relationship, a physical journey, every single day, as deep relationship with animals swimming with the fishes, on the swamp with alligators on the snow with that wonderful group of wolfs it seems the substance of water is always there to drink to be, to flow, to sweat with him and frozen too. You get addicted to it as animals too, is a legendary road and process, from hip hop and Allies in New York recounting stories to meeting your lovers around the world and yet, confessing that anything you shared braking with the loves of your life, does most revealing and vulnerable reflect on him, more than trivial affairs he perceives your existence to exist in. He moves and changes as me through the times.
That's such a treat of loyalty. Touch down on memories who make you move further, you discover you die and even realising you are still alive make bold decisions as keeping the confession alive, reborn again, a new identity and stamp to trip, the creation keeps moving even if you resist as a little evil. And he is there running through adventures and stations you rather not know because you can already image and why not say, how could you never stop? I don't know if he does anymore recall my original name, if he does to me, my father is very dark and straight, but he is like my mother he as her have more exists than the Tube, the Subway. Breath at last. The times made us forgot who we are. We became loyal to destiny.
Loyalty, whom ever know what it's for a private agent, an undercover, a timeless relation who is romanticly goofy yet very technical on the light of action seemingly cold. Every time I turn back to him, is like..."Why do you believe in me, it is a cover, was it that genius?" He looks at me felt in love, giggling to yourself, not even him can see you are laughing at it, that compatible sense of humour who would rather hold the laughter because it believed in the cover, if to perceive truth in this mental state of loyalty, it comes out with severe experience whom many times get confused by other writers and readers, actors, no one owns the main theme, unless you are loyal to the market place and material riches also spiritual power to obey the laws of conquering a result for the whole. That makes me feel very happy. Who ever is loyal for the sakes of the lust of the flesh and ruling over others to undo them, selfishness, then this loyalty is not my loyalty, then Im disloyal, cast out envy, my personal ambition to love my brother and sisters uniqueness. Faith in principals in victory, in due times.
Hight fidelity as much information and relational power to digest a mayor frequency, the more loyal you are, the lest its cables and wireless freak out, you can simply lay back and observe without being involved, I'm not loyal to a single threat or a net, it's ridiculous. As a holiday I'd disappear going, anonymous as if the brake up emerge to be free thanking him, to be as far away as possible to be meeting for tea for the mobile, he turned up to be with a suit with the lead. "What are you talking about? You had the opportunity to be on the mountains of Germany in this little Hotel together, now we are pact around unimportant tourist on the mediterranean coast!" The lobby was fantastic and the surveillant unavoidable, you get married to this part and act, the noise and the entire history of this location grants plenty of mistake to vanish. Scrabbling notes, there is something painful and sad to bring out to life. You are always making lists, burning the work to re- do it again, many of the times get burn alter mistakes faraway from your reach. Re- do it, redefine it. And he is always there.
I'm not complete without this loyalty, is greater than me, I've fight against this loyalty and it does exist by a higher order. Its not my will, I'm innocent, there is nothing to fear.
A month, three months learning latin, so learning another language on the streets of Rome, that silence around you, you are never on set hunting around and still, he is always there. You know he is there for all others and is loyal. You return or not, he is there, your faith is more than stillness in him, sometimes you think if he has something else to do, or what is he thinking if he ever stops, is a loyal machine, does he have a heart to sustain this love affair with all his stories. Then in this natural state of mind, he could be anyone living in the present, you need to mature and think once again. Is loyalty so important as freedom, yes it's my harmony. It synchs.
I'm Black Widow, no one will ever know were my loyalties back up and move forth, I know is reliable transiting by worst case scenario, recovering and moving the work in a Manifest to rise. Maybe I'm too straight but this loyalty has crossed over even my gender to make it happen away from so many of plenty binding stories, this loyalty is held on a book were many enter, it becomes a family a resort of heroes and villains. It became a program who has remodel to adapt through the times for the best in all. People looking for salvation from each mistake. You call it Loyalty and go around, I call it hight Definition in a quantum jump.
The more you do it, the more it seems you just do it, you have to keep out from the adversary, you are ahead of the game and they will hunt you, push you if they can, you trust no one, the time frame clicks to a dead line and you can only follow the compass of your given destination. I'm not holding back. At the Black Widow program the basic routine in all it's classes is well firmed to make it certain from first lesson. "Pull the trigger before turning" To choreograph a team is the discipline of doing it over and over again, coming back to your very ones.
Its easier to kill your lover and move to the next it gives you power, you get payed and can keep loving if you wan't, but that's so easy that we don't really get to overvalued the affair or need it, being in control you learn the values from history, you get to burry what history can't repeat for the future generations and chose your allies for greater causes better, some of this cases become personal. This is when the loss is irreparable, but not when you go back to time to note down what keeps moving.
Your feet are grounded in the floor, the academy keeps checking the hall on whom is first on the list to sponsor a job. Your spine straightens your shoulders expand, professors find refugee away the political spectrum behind their motives, your limbs stop hurting from exercise each movement is memorised on the fivers of your muscles, you even get to do your own moves because you have succeed too many times, it will always be a competition to those who need graduation and level up the work no matter how many layers of silvering they paint to reflect attention, is about reflection some have an innate talent blended with the learned techniques, you have to step up, step out, re-think patriotism. You sense the idea of a bullet onto your direction before it's action. That is something my journey had given me stage, I'm not weak, I'm not strong, I just happen to be there, you can never say why, but the main reason that brings you together, than you are ahead of the plan, you never lie to yourself.
You will smile to the administration shake hands in close doors and prove anonymity to embark another mission, let them see by their own eyes when you are absent. It all points back to the admissions, you don't need to prove yourself once you catch the trigger. You will remain alive or dead. There is no time for proving anything in my realm. My woman know that, and when one is to say mine they know I'm theirs. An old friend told me once "I only hangout with married woman" now to know that... is never too late, it gives you a sense of authority and ownership to manage a new path, discretion, absolute discretion, no matter how many identities, how many times you died, if this woman is married or not is neither, is about amendments. This is another level of diplomacy.
Feelings would have been compounded for the tribal work of doing money, and that a real genius can be neglected or ignored in the outside whom ever pays the bills, is rolling. Absolutely, my bridges are told to be made by blackmail before the courts, against United Nations to control us. Look to the sides Captain, Tony you make your choices if to serve or to be free, it gives you the chance to correct for the prevalence of the environment. Is not only a commission, or a vague seduction.
"When you finish the deal we can have dinner, it would be unethical if we have breakfast, I can sue you" This is woman at work, every day, at every spot. Nothing lasts forever with spiritual enemies of admirable magnitude, never consider them a partner. The effusion of connections like a hurt fox mother ready to protect her regarded future generation giving beyond measures, when they are looking at the smaller and slighter things, I have to leave in a hurry. Watching carefully who is who as if I'm watching for the Gates, keep it on.
From the principality of Muscovy to Budapest, Hungary get the paper transactions, whatever this Invisible Mansion is in the outskirts of Gotham city. Magic? Damn the only connection I had was Lobo but he was giving no info, the future verb doesn't work to me and bringing unrequested people to a spy agent is not my style. Whom else, not the villains. Just this always psycho's adrenaline on alert who gets you going on a trip, once you get in the drive everything becomes pointless, everything but the pick of the arrow towards the dark spot's destination, the pity of the situation lies in the fact that you can only assert the true worth of a magical spell, unseen, no evidence, no facts, nothing to be traded, forget the commune senses, you are moving to unknown areas, suddenly stop thinking but keep moving in the way, to decipher the station only. It will come, it will come in the way.
The information who recalls starts to transfigure as a madhouse of irritable temperament, a Wizard, a Witch whom has build so many spells it now finds no way out of its Mansion. An Invisible Mansion indeed. Even my thoughts and bank of memory backs the name without even memorising it out to never be read to any enemy's speller, inexistent in the mind of readers, no one knows my true identity, I can tell that no name will be corroborated on this mission not even thoughtfully.
Words of doubt, the wagon is half empty as the train parts by the rails the connotations of it sounds shoot my senses who start to flow in extreme sensitivity, lean my back down let go to the seat with a blend of paranoia and moving through it with the vision, accepting that all it is, true, not necessarily mine, all this spells of magic are nothing but desires and illusions, tricks you can place before the other's actions to rule them or undress them. Entering in the world of magic, you must become magic, movable, manipulatable, essentially you must consider the tones then the hands of the doers arrive like lightening as when you orchestrate a symphony directing with the baton only a musician can add to the rhythm simultaneously, only your turn after pulling the trigger and this may suggest the general attitude abroad Gotham City, the visionary conception, then lightly the vision transports you away to places you never imagined could exist. Naturally the outskirts must be the first stop, your logic and actions become more real by the minute, the place appears to be real when you open your eyes, the mathematics never lie, nature never lies, that I was surrounded by travellers, yes, by open hearted resident and tourist, merchandisers, someone is following me, that I will disembark where no one is leaving, yes.
Do you feel it? The cold… that glacial breath against your back. … that grip on your insides, tightening until it feels like it’s been ripped out of you. … the fear that begins to snake through your body. You look over your shoulders, feeling your armor drop. Cadaverous creatures protrude from the hearts of the innocent; Stretching out their mouths so they can crawl out and corrupt their will. The world begins to decay. Bodies putrefy. The stench of deteriorating flesh and withering skin floods the air. Shadows begin to engulf the horizon, blanketing the surface of the Earth. The Darkness has come.
Captain James T. Kirk has had this dark, terrifying dream before. It feels as if an eternity has passed since the Darkness was first born - a negative energy absorbed by the Pandorians during a battle in the atmosphere of their planet due to the power-lusting Romulans. Now known as Pandora’s Box, the dark energy released has spread across universes and worlds, influencing the worst in every living and breathing entity.
The goal of the Federation when the Darkness first arrived, was to restore the Pandorians to their former glory - pure, positive energy. However, there are groups that separated themselves from the Federation that is against such restoration. They prefer to just wipe them out completely. Unfortunately, that is not the way of Starfleet, and since Starfleet’s arrival to the Pandorian planet is what triggered the arrival of the Romulans, Starfleet feels partly responsible.
This was not the only darkness that Kirk has come into contact with. Prior to their awakening, Kirk was in the hands of a blood-lusting alien race known as the C’Thele. Tortured, and nearly bled to death, Kirk was ultimately saved from further physical torment. However, he had no completely escaped their grasp:
Even after ten years, the C’Thele still held him captive. He still felt vulnerable, especially when he was alone, because he was alone with his thoughts and his memories, much like now. He was still a slave to his past.
The Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise now suffered from a serious form of PTSD, and sometimes, lost himself mentally and emotionally. Only a select few on the ship knew of his condition, and Kirk controlled it to the best of his abilities.
Four days prior, Kirk received a message from the Yorktown base of a growing dark influence rapidly increasing on one of their long range interdimensional scanners, a device that was invented not too long after the Darkness was first widespread. Kirk’s ship, the Enterprise, was one of the very few that was equipped and capable of interdimensional travel. This next mission will take Kirk and his crew to Earth of a different dimension.
“ETA, Sulu.” “We will be entering Earth 022 in sixty seconds, sir.” Sulu replied promptly as the Captain took his seat in the middle of the Bridge. “Red alert.” the Captain ordered, sending the rest of the ship a message that things were about to get rough on board the Enterprise. In every interdimensional jump, the ship suffered some variation of minor distress.
“Thirty seconds.” The ship began to shake. “Twenty five seconds.” The stars in front of them began to distort. “Preparing for interdimensional jump.” “Brace yourselves.” Kirk warned the Bridge crew as his fingers tightened around the front of the arm rests of the Captain’s chair. “In three… two… one…” On cue, the Enterprise was whipped through a vortex of psychedelic colorations and distortions. However, the trip did not last long. Within seconds, they arrived at their destination as the red lights of the alert system disappeared, and the Enterprise stabilized itself.
From space, Earth looked normal. However, on the surface, it was far from normal. Due to the high concentration of the dark influence caused by the presence of the Darkness.
With a small away team, Kirk materialized into a discreet location, hopefully, away from any witnesses who would report the sighting as ‘strange and unusual.’ They didn’t want to draw attention to themselves.
“We’ll split up, and look for any signs that the Darkness penetrated Earth, which wouldn’t be too hard to spot. Do what you can to neutralize the issue.” After Kirk gave his orders, each member of the away team went their separate ways.
