#grav gun
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i keep trying to find value in them but the half life 2 games really are completely inferior to the half life 1 games
#the grav gun is simultaneously the only good thing about hl2 and the reason hl2 fucking sucks#i played both for the first time around the same time so there is 0 nostalgia at play here#just basic thought and criticism
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Whumpy snippet #5
"Let him go."
Grav’s voice is low and dangerous, his chest is burning with rage but the gun in his hand is steady as it points against the back of the man’s head. The man hadn’t noticed him turning the corner into the dingy alley. He’d been too busy crowding B up against the rough brick wall. Hand squeezing around the kid’s throat, lifting him half off the ground and spouting some shit Grav hadn’t bothered to try and listen to.
The man tenses at Grav’s words and the feeling of the barrel pressed against his skull. Still, he doesn’t let go of B, who’s still clutching the man’s arm, desperately gasping for air as his toes barely touch the ground. A muscle in Grav’s jaw twitches.
"I’d really prefer if I didn’t have to blow your fucking brains out just yet, but make no mistake I will paint this wall red if you don’t let go of him right fucking now. NOW."
Grav speaks slowly and through grit teeth, but the last word is yelled so suddenly that the man startles. He drops B. The kid falls to his knees on the dirty ground, gasping and coughing, but wastes no time crawling to the side to leave Grav to handle the man. Which he gladly does.
First sending him stumbling to the side with a hard smack with the butt of his gun. Then a precise shot to his thigh, just above his knee. The man yells in pain and tries to scoot himself backwards away from Grav, who stalks mercilessly towards him. He’s blabbering pleas and excuses that Grav is only half listening to. How he didn’t know who the kid was, how he wouldn’t have dared to touch him if he did. Yeah right. The man’s back hits one of the sidewalls of the alley, and Grav stops in front of him. He stands there for a moment, considering that Rein might want to keep the man alive for questioning, but one sideways glance at B still coughing and rubbing his already bruising throat makes the decision for him. There are more where this fucker came from, others who can answer questions, they can work around his death. The kid meets his glance momentarily, and closes his eyes when Grav pulls the trigger with pointed finality.
#whump#whump writing#my writing#whump drabble#protectiveness#protective caretaker#tw gun use#tw implied death#my ocs#oc: b#oc: grav#I’m pleasantly surprised considering i was mere moments from falling asleep while writing this#slowly overcoming writers block#it’s an uphill battle#writing should be fun for me again i think
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#if you couldn't tell i really don't like using the grav gun in ravenholm#half life 2#half life#ravenholm#valve
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All I’m saying is that if you’re making a game very similar to Dead Space you have to be better than Dead Space.
Or at the very least equal to.
#quokka plays#cp spoilers#tag rant incoming#there’s a whole heap of things that were in Dead Space and that Dead Space 2 improved upon that are just completely absent here#I just bought an explosive bullet upgrade for my gun and it wasn’t until the tutorial that I found out it takes 6 bullets per explosive shot#I’ve been one shot by enemies that didn’t make a sound until there was nowhere for me to hide#(giant fkn clanking robot that only clanked when it started shooting)#a checkpoint before a long shimmy section that lead to a trial and error instant death puzzle#there’s just a lot of really obnoxious gameplay elements that were phased out after they proved to be shit in the 90s and 00s#I’m playing on easy because I get frustrated having to redo things and I’m having to redo so many things even tho my mistakes are#‘looked in a direction at a wrong time’#so far it’s super linear with one ‘you can explore here’ side section in every area#no puzzles even though I have a grav glove#maybe it gets better but I’ve got 48% of the trophies just by playing the game#also: I CANT KICK THE LIMBS AROUND
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99.99999999% of deaths in this game are banging your dang noggin.
The grav gun only increased this.
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A rare insight into the usually unreported work of Princess Royal
Visiting military graves of unsung heroes was fitting appointment for perhaps the hardest working member of Royal family
By Victoria Ward for The Telegraph
Of the many war heroes buried in the windswept Dover chalk grassland is one Sgt Maj Charles Wooden, who was awarded the Victoria Cross after saving a fellow soldier’s life under heavy fire during the Battle of Balaclava.
The Princess Royal studied his grave closely as she was told he was “a bit of a drunkard” who had unfortunately met a sad demise.
Suffering from excruciating toothache, he had tried to dislodge the offending tooth with his gun, only to blow his brains out. “The ultimate pain killer,” the Princess, 72, observed drily, with the wry humour that is never in short supply.
Another, Gunner Andrew McDowell, had been blown to bits as he sat with two other soldiers in Dover harbour out of sight but directly in the firing line of a new 42-pound cannon.
The firing party thought someone said “fire” and duly fired. Gunner McDowell’s arm was found in the local town. The Princess peered closely at his newly restored grave, decorated with a cannon. “It’s almost adding insult to injury putting a gun on there, isn’t it?” she remarked.
The Princess, patron of The Remembrance Trust, was at St James’s cemetery, in Dover, Kent, to inspect its latest work restoring the military graves and memorials of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.
It was the second engagement of at least four on her itinerary, but as a royal who opts to get on with her work under the radar, most of it – as always – will go unreported.
However, on Tuesday, The Telegraph was invited to join the Princess as she travelled to Kent for an update on the work of the Trust, of which she became patron in 2021.
Engaged and unguarded, she delighted the small band of charity trustees and council dignitaries with her easy humour and obvious interest. “You can’t fake that kind of fascination,” one observer said later. “She’s great fun and you can talk to her like a normal human being.”
The Princess, accompanied by her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, 68, made a point of chatting to each member of the small gang of around 15 that was on hand to greet her.
Introduced to charity trustee and “tomb expert” Dr Roger Bowdler, she joked: “See tomb, will travel.”
Darren Solley, head of parks and open spaces at Dover District Council, told the Princess he was trialling a new approach to managing the cemetery land by leaving much of it to grow wild, improving biodiversity.
“It’s quite a difficult balance, rewilding,” she commented. “Actually, you do look after it but it doesn’t look like it.”
Warming to the theme, she continued: “You do have to cut it but it’s when you cut it that’s key – and what you do with the leftovers.”
Former corporal Steve Davies, a military grave restorer who has worked with the trust since its inception and preserved six of the seven graves on the Princess’s one-hour tour, proved an enthusiastic and informative guide.
The Restoration Trust returns graves to their former glory while at the same time creating a database spanning more than 200 years.
Founded and chaired by North Sea oil pioneer and former Grenadier Guards officer Algy Cluff, 83, it has a vast remit covering an undefined period up until 1914. He was motivated to help future generations understand the nation’s military past after working on the graves of British troops killed abroad.
Those killed from 1914 onwards have their graves kept by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, funded by the Commonwealth governments, but those killed earlier fall through the cracks, their headstones left to fall to ruin.
One of those whose grave has been lovingly restored is Maj Gen William Sutton, who received the Second China War medal and Companion of the Order of the Bath but who requested none of the usual pomp and circumstance at his funeral and asked to be buried in a common grave alongside soldiers of other ranks.
It was fortuitous then, that of all the well-known faces to visit his resting place almost 160 years after his death aged 56 was the Princess Royal, that least showy and no-nonsense member of the Royal family.
“It doesn’t say who he served with,” the Princess commented as she studied his headstone. “56? I’m surprised he lasted so long.”
Mr Davies ushered her along. “We’ve got to hit the hill now, ma’am,” he said. “Don’t worry, I live on the side of a hill,” came the reply as the Princess ploughed on, stopping to study several other graves along the way.
“Oh, it’s a Sherwood Forester, well, well well,” she said, pausing by one that she was keen to point out to her husband.
When Mr Davies told the Princess that he had queued for 14 hours to see her late mother, Elizabeth II, lying in rest, it prompted a discussion about the merits of certain footwear.
The Princess admitted that the boots that form part of the Blues and Royals uniform were none too comfortable. “Which is why I didn’t volunteer to walk after the Coronation, I was riding,” she laughed.
Later, the Princess and Sir Tim retired for a private lunch at Dover Castle before moving on to the next engagement.
Meanwhile, those who had enjoyed her company that morning were unanimous in their praise.
“She’s got common sense running through her like Brighton Rock,” one said. “But she’s enormous fun and absolutely interested and engaged. One couldn’t hope for a better patron.”
#she’s so funny#the dry wit is 10/10#interesting that the telegraph was invited to come along#also she had a private lunch with tim 🥰#princess anne#princess royal#tim laurence#timothy laurence#anne does stuff#workanne 9 to 5#british royal family#brf
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Halo Reloaded - Spartan-II Training Schedule
I've wanted to flesh this out for while, but here we go. Note: this seems impossible... it's because it is.
General Information:
From Monday through Friday (except Wednesday), they start every morning with stretching, then they do 50 jumping jacks; after a quick breather, they do the following routine below.
100 total squats, push-ups, chin-ups, crunches and sit-ups. 50 of these every morning after the jumping jacks, then they do another 50 before bed.
Go to class, listen to a lecture on tactics used by the Spartans of Greece and the Roman Empire. This goes from 1000 to 1200 (Lunch Break), from 1300 to 1500 is recess at the obstacle-course where parkour and acrobatics are to be practiced, then class resumes from 1600 to 1800.
Night-Routine, then bed.
Monday:
After a one hour break from the morning routine, they go on a one kilometer run with small sand-bags tied to every Spartan-cadet's ankles. (A work-out routine inspired by Rocky Marciano.)
They practice swimming for an hour from 1900 to 2000 shortly after class.
Tuesday:
After a one hour break from the morning routine, they step into a VR-simulator that trains them to eject from drop-pods.
At 1900 to 2000, they spar with each other; two per circle (every pair gets an individual circle). The art is a martial-art native only to the Spartans called "Spartan-Kata"; it's heavily influenced by four martial-arts: Krav Maga, Collegiate Wrestling, Judo and Kali. One is armed with tonfas and is on the offensive, the other is unarmed and on the defensive; the unarmed opponent gets a turn to be on the offense while the armed opponent learns to be defensive. They switch offensive/defensive positions at 30 minutes into the sparring session.
Wednesday:
Break on both the morning and evenings. It's just lessons for the entire day. They don't even do the morning/night routines, they just wake up, recover, go to class and return to bed.
Thursday:
In the morning, they play a game of CTF in the Zero-Grav Chamber using laser-guns that respond to their Zero-Grav Suits' sensors. (It's just Ender's Game.)
In the evening, they learn to disassemble, clean and reassemble their guns (don't worry, they're not loaded) for the first 30 minutes; in the last 30 minutes, they go to the targeting range to practice their aim. From ages 8 - 11, they use laser-guns (similar ones seen in the Zero-Grav Chamer); they are taught fire-arm safety and how to properly use guns, then from ages 12 - 16, they're taught to practice with real-gunloaded with live-rounds.
Friday:
They do their usual morning and night routine, though they go to class for the first half of the day; after lunch, they don't go to recess. For the rest of the day onward, they do a group "survival-activity" that they must complete before the day is over. If any Spartan fails to complete the exercise and return to the training-facility, ONI personnel will personally collect them and return them back to base with the usual penalty for failure/coming-in-last being no dinner.
Saturday:
Rest & Recovery Day. No class or training, obstacle-course is always open.
Sunday:
Rest & Recovery Day. No class or training, obstacle-course is always open.
Meal-Time:
Breakfast: Lots of organic-eggs (either scrambled or over-easy, depends on what the cadet wants) and scalloped potatoes, a slice of ham with a side of plain-crackers. Drinks are a glass of water.
Lunch: Fried-Chicken and fish with brown rice and a side of mashed-potatoes slathered in gravy. Drinks are orange-juice.
Dinner: Turkey slathered with gravy and ice-cream covered in hot-fudge syrup. Drinks are a glass of milk.
Class-Snacks: Plain-Crackers with a glass of milk and a side of Vitamin-Gummy packs.
Additional Information:
Every night, the Spartans sleep to white-noise.
After getting themselves in bed, they are first treated with story-time as they fall asleep; Deja, the AI that teaches the Spartans in Halsey's absence, reads them stories from ancient Greece, namely the stories from Classical Mythology, but sometimes real events thay transpired then, too. Deja swaps over to white-noise once everyone has fallen asleep.
All of this was done from ages 8 to 16. In John's case, due to him being the youngest by two years, 6 to 14.
#halo#halo fanfic#halo fanfiction#halo headcanon#halo au#halo reloaded#helix studios117#spartans#spartan#spartan ii#spartan ii training is cutthroat
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The choice of what Ed is lying on here fascinates me.
His old gang, the Hornigold gang, are shown in western style: both the outfits and camera angles used. I talk about that here.
During this time, Ed has shuffled on the Kraken persona, like a security robe, keeping him safe from outside forces. But here, he is down to a t-shirt, letting himself feel emotions about the wedding cake toppers, yet still trying to drown it in alcohol.
But what I want to talk about is the choice of the animal fur carpet he's laying on. He threw away most of Stede's soft things, and they have been on countless raids. I'm not 100% sure where this rug is from (I looked and didn't see it in Stede's cabin), and honestly it doesn't match Stede's style.
But you know what it does match? The Wild West. And that style is emphasized with the simple clothes, the wooden plank floors, and the candle. If you saw that photo out of context, would you guess this is a pirate show?
Bringing back this western style shows how much Ed has had to retreat to his old ways with his old crew, and that is done visually in this one shot. We see the more pirate outfits, the ropes, leathers, and the kohl makeup during the raids, but in his own private space, Ed doesn't have those, he has the western theme. This simple choice shows us exactly his mindset (and foreshadows his choice of Hornigold during the grav(e)y basket scene.
Also, is that gunpowder he's decorating the bride topper with? Using alcohol and gun powder as a sorta paint? Or just kohl makeup. I have questions.
#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd s2#ofmd season 2#ofmd edward teach#blackbeard#meta#meta analysis#ofmd meta#ed teach character study#ed teach
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Which warhammer gun causes the coolest explosions?
Depends how technical you want to be about the terms “gun” and “explosion”. If we’re being loose about it, and just going with the spirit of the question, Singularity Generators, Grav-flux Bombards and D-cannons are definitely up there.
But if we go stricter with it, then Hellex Plasma Mortars, Disintegrator Cannons, and Nova Cannons would be my picks.
Warhammer has a lot of cool cannons that explode things.
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Fandom: Starfield
Rating: E
Pairing: Delgado x Oc
Chapter 6 Excerpt:
Even with the ComSpike and Conduction grid, navigating to Bannoc IV proves to be a shitstorm. Thank the stars for her brother Val or she would’ve had a difficult time trying to fly through the turbulence and getting the damn targeting system to lock onto The Legacy. But he manages it, no problem. They ease through the red haze that rocks their ship, teeth gritting against the vibrations. In front of them, a zigzag of electromagnetic energy flashes hot white then disappears as she steers away from a spinning asteroid. Carefully pushing forward, the haze clears just enough for the Legacy to come into view. Rerouting power from her grav drive to her engines, the ship speeds up, inching close to The Legacy. Another vibration rocks them but she manages to dock the ship.
“We’re all set to board,” Val tells her.
She breathes deep as she exits the cockpit, heading to the armory with Val. They suit up and grab their packs, guns and extra ammo, preparing for whatever the hell might be waiting for them on that ship. She expects a few robots and maybe even some heatleeches. Those fuckers manage to sneak onto any ship somehow. Packs on their backs, they waste no extra time. Together, they board The Legacy.
They’re hit with a blaring alarm and a rush of cool air. Though stale and laden with dust, the air is almost earthy sweet, invisible yet clinging to their skin like dew in morning grass. It sends a strange sort of chill up Verity’s spine as she covers her ears to block out the alarm. Broken robot at her feet, her eyes adjust to the dim surroundings and she doesn’t quite catch what the automated voice says as it comes to an abrupt ending. She uncovers her ears.
“Apparently we’re not the first to have come here,” Verity says, stepping over the detached robot leg and making a left up the stairs.
“Shit. Yeah, this doesn’t look encouraging.”
“Can't back out now.”
“Technically, we can.”
“No you can’t. You kidding me? I know you’re dying to see what’s on this ship, same as me.”
Val chuckles. “Hate that you know me so well.”
“Honestly,” Verity adjusts the straps of the pack on her shoulders, “I also hate that.”
The stairway opens up into a room that splits. She pauses, contemplating her options.
“I would’ve preferred a lie.” Val kicks an empty box out of his way to stand against the wall. “I like having my feelings spared. Besides, you don’t mean that.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers it to her. She plucks one out and he does too, pocketing the pack and trading it for a lighter. Flicking the lighter, the flame glows and he holds it to the end of her cigarette. Then lights his own while he plays with the lighter.
“I do mean it,” she replies after taking a drag. Her brow quirks as she meets his gaze. “Sometimes you can know too much about someone.”
More on AO3
#bear writes#starfield#starfield fanfic#starfield delgado#delgado x oc#this chapter contains no smut or delgado though#verity blanche#Val blanche#the legacy quest with a twist#split skin#chapter 6
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WIP Wednesday
It's Wednesday and so a sneak peek is in order and I've got one ready for you. It's from Stowaway Savior this time! Sam and Jinx are out in the Sparta system searching for our missing duo. I have put it under a read more since it's longish
“Buenos dias Capitán Morph, The time is UT zero seven hundred. I have already taken the liberty to heat breakfast for you and coffee is percolating on the stove.”
Jinx’s voice was impressively chipper in spite of its limitations. Sam laid face down in his bed, already fed up with his robotic second. He told Jinx not to bother him and let him sleep. That meant no schedule, no early wake ups, none of it. He groaned and planted his face into his pillow, muffling his tired scream.
A prerecorded soundbite of a pathetic rooster crowing played over the ship speakers, followed by Jinx, “levántate!”
Don’t punch him? How am I not suppose to bop the bucket of bolts when he acts like that! Sam rolled over onto his side and pulled his pillow over his head.
“Your breakfast will get cold, Captain Morph,” Jinx called over the speakers, his metallic voice sing-songing his sentence as best as the modulators could manage.
“I don’t want it!” Sam yelled from under his pillow.
“Breakfast was believed to be the most important meal of the day on old Earth,” Jinx stated, “it is important to fuel a hard working body.”
“I don’t need it!” Sam shouted, ripping the pillow off his face, “fuck off and power down.”
“I cannot complete either order, as I lack the necessary parts for the first while the second goes against my original orders.” Jinx said.
Sam knew if the robot had the ability it would be smiling. He could hear the shit-eating grin in each word. He forced himself to sit up and manged to find it in him to be civil, “How long was I able to sleep, Jinx?”
“Five hours, forty-three minutes, twenty-nine seconds,” Jinx said.
“I told you to let me sleep,” Sam reminded the robot, “five hours isn’t enough, why are you waking me?”
“Five hours, forty-three minutes…Captain Morph we have a situation. Ships inbound, UC signatures, I am boosting shields and spinning up the turrets.”
“How many? Give me more than that!” Sam shouted as he shot out of bed.
“tres pendejos de tiburón,” Jinx’s heavy feet stomped back to his battle station, “I am blocking their attempts to scan.”
You taught him to swear too? Sam thought at Delgado, great! It’s like your whiny little bitch ass is right here with me. “What kind of scans?”
“Probing cargo and heat sensors. If I had to guess, captain, I’d say they are attempting to get a headcount.”
Sam was storming toward the cockpit, his battered bunny eared slippers ‘twapping’ with each step as he slammed into his seat and went over the systems, batting his robe belt out of the way as he got strapped in. Jinx had everything green and the three small fighters were circling the Bitter Angel II like there was chum in the Blackest waters.
“Open comms, Jinx,” Sam barked.
“Comms open,” Jinx chimed back, “Halt hijos de putas!”
Sam blinked, not sure whether to laugh or cry at his chaotic robotic copilot.
“Aw look Lieutenant, the xeno freak’s daddy is so worried he has a shitty robot speaking for him,” one of the pilots taunted, “wonder if mommy is that ship seen orbiting Charydis I the other day…”
“That's a lot of talking coming from a corpse,” Sam growled as he targeted the culprit’s reactor, “suppose I should commend the brass ones weighing down your ships, thinking those three rinky dinky a-class fighters could take me down but then, SysDef has never been known for their brains.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jinx called out as both turrets opened fire on the edge ships, one per ship, targeting their grav drives first, then engines.
Sam grinned and opened fire with both pairs of gauss guns and helion beams, ripping the shield off the center ship and popping their reactor like a balloon. He watched through the fighter’s cockpit glass as the crew scrambled to suit up like they were somehow making it out of their toasted ship. He located their docking module, one of the bulging ugly nova galactic models, and shredded it with his gauss guns, depressurizing their ship in a snap.
“Anyone else got anything funny to say before you die?” Sam shouted over the comms.
Jinx had destroyed the grav drives and crippled both ships by popping their fuel tanks.
“Only that you’re too late!” one voice yelled.
Another, from the other ship, chimed in, “Vega will drag their corpses from that wreck!”
“Jinx, you take left, I take right,” Sam ordered.
“Aye, Aye, Captain!”
Jinx focused fire on his target while Sam tapped the thrusters and cracked his target in half.
With the three ships in pieces Jinx got to work downloading their black boxes and scooping useful scrap and cargo from their husks while Sam got up and shuffled back to the living quarters to eat. As much as he wanted to go back to bed he knew he couldn’t rest with sharks in the waters. Just great.
Running into SysDef was expected but still not welcome. And their taunts hit too close to the heart. Sam was pretty sure they were bluffing but what if they weren’t? He knew the Squid had been damaged bad enough to lose an engine and a landing gear. Enough days had passed for them to have made it to Sparta if they did scatter like her message seemed to imply. Could they have wrecked out here?
“Captain, los pendejos del tiburón have located two wrecks on Sparta III and are currently picking through the wrecks. One is to the north in the frozen dunes and the other is tucked away in the mountains to the south west.”
Fuck. “Start in the dunes, take us down while I eat and get dressed. Don’t land too close I don’t need those pricks trying to cut their way inside.”
“Affirmative, Captain Morph.”
#starfield#starfield fanfiction#coemancer#the coemancer crew#sam coe#wip wednesday#atonalginger writes#Stowaway Savior#starborn!Sam
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Another Brain Rot. That man has me on a chokehold and I'll never deny it.
Sam Coe x Spacefarer.
NB Dusty, as usual. No description of Dusty, but there's a whole collection of every single plushie in the game on their bed, because that's what I do with my plushies. And I want to have something handy.
And no, I cannot give my stories titles, because I never know what to name them.
It's not even noon, and I'm already in a bind.
Crimson Fleet ships surround the Kepler, and there's a familiar voice on the comms.
Would someone be mad if I "accidentally" shoot at her ship? Just enough to disable the grav drive and she's unable to run away the second the fight is over.
Taking a look over my shoulder, to where Sam is sitting on the guns, I choose not to shoot. He'd be mad.
The last ship is taken down, and I'm opening the comms for... Lillian.
And of course the first thing she does is to ignore me, dismiss Cora, and focus all her attention on Sam. Flirting with him.
If he was ignoring, sure, I'd also ignore it. But he's flirting back. Returning her quips in the same tone, smiling.
I can't stand it, so I tell Andreja to set a course to New Atlantis once they're done there, and head to my quarters. I can still hear them through the intercoms, so I turn it off and hide under my covers.
I should have shot her down. Docked. Made her see Cora and look into my eyes as she flirts with...
Sam once told me that Lillian came back after him a lot over the years. Looking for sex, claiming to have changed, to be wanting to have a good relationship with him and Cora... Not that he actually believed after a while, but he said the sex was good, so he played along.
Is that what they're doing now? Looking for comfort in eachother after some adrenaline? I don't want to know.
~~
Sam closed off the comms to Lillian's ship, kinda happy that they didn't fight again. Despite Lillian making up excuses to not see Cora.
But the glares he was getting from Andreja and Cora told him it was not something to be happy about.
"Dad, why were you flirting with mom?" Cora asks, crossing her arms as she started at him like she's the parent.
"I wasn't flirting with her. Why would I do that?" He retorts, confused as to what led to this situation.
"It sure sounded like you two were flirting." Andreja says, deadpan as she takes the pilots seat. "Didn't notice anything happening while the two of you were talking?"
Andreja is on the pilots seat. Not them.
"When did they leave?" He asks, not being any answers for the women in the ship, both still glaring at him. "When?" He pushes, and Andreja folds.
"Somewhere between needing a vacation and that invitation to Paradiso." It was an invitation?
If they aren't here, there's one place.
~~
It's a while before the door to my quarters open. I'm not in the mood to talk to him, so I turn away on the bed, avoiding his eyes.
"Darling, can we talk?" Sam asks, and I make a point to ignore him. "Please? I'm really-" I don't want to hear it, so I turn and toss one of my plushies at him.
"Don't want to talk!" I shout, throwing another plushie. "Get out! Go back to her!" I throw one with each sentence, but he barely moves, only to dodge my attacks.
Instead of leaving, he steps closer.
"Go back to having that great sex you couldn't pass up on." I continue, along with my barrage of plushies. "Go back to crawling, to begging for any drop of attention, to arguing every day. Isn't that what you want?" I finally toss my Parsecpooch, the last plushie in the bed, and he catches it expertly.
"Darling, I'm not gonna-" he tries again, close enough to hold me in his arms.
"At least have the decency of waiting for me to leave the room, to not do it where I can see or hear it." I mumble, falling into his chest, crying. "Try to hide from me."
"I'm not going back to her." He says, running a hand through my hair. "Hell, if Cora and Andreja didn't tell me, I wouldn't know she was flirting with me."
"What?" I lean back, cleaning up my tears.
"It felt... Good. To talk without it escalating into an argument." He explains. "That's all it was for me, love."
"So you're not going to that weekend in Paradiso?" I ask, my voice broken and flawed.
"Not with her, no." He offers me a smile, cupping my face in his hands. "If I'm ever granted a vacation there, it'll be with you. On our honeymoon."
Our... Honeymoon? My brain stops in its tracks. Why is he talking about honeymoon already? Unless...
"I know this is a shit time to do it, but I love you. And I want to marry you, if you'll take me." His smile is genuine, and I'm about to lean into a kiss when there's a noise at the door.
I get up, opening it to find Cora and Andreja there, acting as if they weren't listening in on our conversation.
Cora comes by to hug me, clearly happy with the proposal.
"I'd love to have you in my family." She says, before running off into the ship.
I close the door again, and turn back to Sam.
"I'd love to marry you." I say, but the memory of the way they flirted is still like a gash on my mind. "But you'll have to promise me that there won't ever be a repeat of today." All my terms are on the table. That's the only demand I'll ever make.
"You have my word on it, love." He gets up, coming by to give me a kiss.
I'm not letting go that easy. Not really.
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Chapter 3 Part 2 Sneak Peek!
Hey guys 👋 I'm sorry for not being too active here for the last couple days 😅 I've been busy with finalizing the Part 2 for Patreon and today, I was busy with fixing and polishing a lot of stuff.
Moving on, it's time for a sneak peek into part 2 and this time, I'll be showing you guys 1 out of the 8 possible variations of the fight action scenes. This one will be the lethal option for high Combat and high Grav MC (this also happens to be the very first full action scenes I had ever written).
Warning, it'll be very long (and bloody 😆), so I'll keep it under the cut!
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You pull out the combat knife that Ash gifted you just last night from its holster, grip it, and get into a stance. Your eyes scan the enemies and start to categorize the high-priority ones that you should neutralize first, namely the two goons who are taking out their pistols. Once they are dealt with, it should be easier to fight close quarters with the two remaining ones who are going to be fighting close quarter as well.
Deciding on your first target, you rush—or more like leap—towards him, closing the distance in just one big stride, lowering the gravity pull on your limbs and body. He's shocked by your inhuman speed and tries to step back while raising his pistol at the same time. Your left hand strikes out like a cobra and grabs his wrist, your right hand comes next, plunging the combat knife straight into his wrist.
He cries out in pain and drops the gun he's holding. Giving him no chance to recover, you pull his body towards you, giving you momentum as you drag the still-embedded knife up along the length of his arm. You must've hit one of his major arteries since you feel the warm blood spurting on the left side of your torso, drenching your clothes, making them stick to your skin; you ignore it.
As soon as your knife hits his shoulder, you pull out, and spin the knife, before punching it up the space between his chin and neck, putting extra force behind the thrust by increasing the pull of gravity on the knife upwards. The knife goes straight up his jaw and skewers through the roof of his mouth. You barely feel the resistance as your knife pierces the poor guy's head like a hot knife through butter, thanks to the mix of the extra force and the new knife's sharp edge.
The man's face is frozen in half-shock and half-scream, blood quickly pooling from his mouth and flowing out onto his chin, floor, and your wrist. You cringe a bit in disgust before holding his head and wrenching your knife out; more blood starts pouring out, but you quickly kick his body away from you before it can drench you even further.
The other pistol-bearing goon stands there shocked but quickly snaps out of it as you turn towards her. This time, she raises her pistol, takes an aim at you, and pulls the trigger. You lighten your gravity pull again and duck to the side with an almost inhuman reflex, before rushing forward. She shoots a couple more rounds, but you dodge all of them with ease, her eyes and reflexes can't keep up with your swifter movement.
In a blink of an eye, you get into her personal space and spinning the knife into a backwards grip, you slash it across her exposed neck. At first, only a red line forms, but not even a second later, the blood starts pouring out of it like one of those artificial waterfalls. She instinctively lets go of her pistol and grabs at her neck instead, trying in vain to stem the bleeding. You take the opportunity to plunge your knife into her chest; she opens her mouth to scream, but only a gurgle of blood comes out. You kick her away from you to free your knife from being stuck in between her rib cage.
You notice that she's still alive, writhing on the ground like a worm. You step closer and bring up your right foot, increasing the downward gravity pull on your leg just as it moves downwards. You hear a sickening crunch and you can feel her facial bones cave in underneath the sole of your shoe as you stomp on her face. She immediately goes limp and blood starts to pool underneath your foot, spreading rapidly on the floor.
You glance up and see one of the two remaining goons hesitate, the one wielding a switchblade is closer to you and you can see the slight tremors running down his body. The other one with the claws lets out a yell as she rushes at you, and it seems to give the other guy a burst of bravery as he also joins the Hail Mary rush, shouting out his own warcry.
Making a split-second decision, you launch your combat knife at the guy, putting in extra force by increasing the gravitational pull on the knife as it sails toward him. His eyes widen but it's too late for him to stop or swerve out of the way. The knife hits his forehead and pierces through it until only the handle is visible. The dead man's rush halts and he takes a couple of staggering steps instinctively, the body seems to have not caught up completely to the fact that the brain is most likely already dead. He topples over face first onto the floor, switchblade clattering uselessly out of the limp fingers.
"You bastard! I'll make you pay for that!" a shrill voice screeches out at you and you can hear the mixture of rage and sorrow clear in the pained voice.
You turn just in time to face the last goon, evading the swipe of her sharp claws deftly. Seeing that you don't have any weapons right now, she decides to press her attacks relentlessly. You're forced on the defense, dodging under her deadly strikes and trying to get some sort of distance from her, which she doesn't let you do.
She might be smaller in stature compared to the other goons, but she's certainly better in combat than all of them. Her reflexes and movements are fast like a cat's, and were it not for your proficiency in close-quarter combat supported by your smart usage of gravikinesis, her hits might have landed at least once and you would be bleeding right now.
Left with no choice, you hold out your hand in the direction of the other guy's corpse, concentrating on pulling his switchblade towards you while keeping up with her assaults. A second later, the switchblade sails through the air and accidentally slashes across her right cheek, before finally landing on your outstretched and open hand. That seems to make her stop for a second as she yelps in pain, reaching up to touch the wound.
This time, you're the one who takes advantage of her momentary distraction as you press your attacks with the switchblade, only managing to create numerous shallow cuts here and there as she tries to evade and keep up with your swifter movement; at least now you're keeping her on the back foot.
The small wounds take a toll on her and soon her movements start to slow until she makes a misstep. She flails as she tries to regain her balance. You grab her flailing arms and pull her towards you before grabbing her torso. Lightening her weight, you easily lift her up in the air as if she weighs nothing more than a pillow, before you bring her down harder, increasing the gravity pull, just in time for you to bring your knee up. You hear the snapping and the crunching first before you register the feeling of her spine breaking as it collides with your knee. She can't even scream, only a breathless gasp comes out of her mouth.
Letting go of her, you let her drop front first on the floor before striding over to the previous guy's dead body to yank your combat knife out of his skull. Crouching by his body, you clean both sides of the blade on his white shirt before you notice that the petite woman is still alive. She seems to be paralyzed from the waist down, but still, she drags herself towards the doorway and away from the killing grounds.
You sigh before standing up again and walking casually over to her. She seems to hear your approaching footsteps and redoubles her effort in desperation. You stomp your right foot on her broken spine and feel the broken shards crunching against each other. She screeches in fear as you bend down and grab her hair, pulling her head backwards and slashing your newly-cleaned knife across her exposed throat, blood spraying wildly as the knife's edge cuts clean through her jugulars, and her screech morphs into gurgles.
Letting go of her head, you let her bleed on the floor as you stand up. You suddenly remember that there's one more member in this jolly group that has been missing throughout the fight, the leader. You glance around the room frantically, but she's already nowhere to be seen. Damn! She must've gotten away when you were busy dealing with her subordinates. Coward.
Ash's voice brings your attention away from your building anger.
"I think this is soft enough, $!{nick}. We need to get out soon, I think I saw some police cars passing by the street below."
Sighing in frustration, you turn away from the doorway.
#writing updates#sneak peek#chapter 3#if: vendetta#if game#if wip#dashingdon#choicescript#hosted games#choice of games#cyoa#interactive fiction#interactive novel#interactive games#asks
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Just a small ficlet using on if the prompts from the 100 Tickle Prompts List. I'm just trying to get some writing practice in every once in a while!
We Need to Work, Sir...
#87 "We have work to do"
Fandom: Bakugan New Vestroia
Characters: Spectra Phantom|Keith Fermin, Gus Grav
Relationships: Spectra Phantom x Gus Grav
Words: 602
Summary: Spectra wants to cuddle. Gus does too, but knows they have a lot of work to get done. There's only one way to move his stubborn lover. (WARNING! THIS IS A TICKLE FIC! IF THAT'S SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE, KEEP SCROLLING!)
"Come on, Master Spectra. "We need to get up," Gus whispered to the blonde as they lay cuddled together on the couch. Spectra responded by wrapping his arms tighter around Gus' waist and moaning.
"Do we have to? I'm quite comfortable here." He curled up more into the other man's lap, head pressed against his chest, nuzzling in a bit. The movement caused Gus' heart to flutter, and his face began to heat up. He sighed and ran his fingers through Spectra's long hair. "I know, sir, but we have work to do."
"No, we don't."
"Yea...we do."
"Nope"
"Master please."
"Nuh uh."
Gus giggled at Spectra's sudden childish tone. He truly didn't want to get back to work either; he'd much rather spend his time with Spectra in his arms, but they had already put their work on hold for a whole day; they really couldn't afford to miss another. "As soon as we finish, we can cuddle all night; we just have to get up and finish our work." "Come on, up!" He gently pushed at the others' shoulders, but Spectra sat firm.
"Master. Get up."
"Make. Me."
Gus let out an exasperated gasp. Oh, the nerve! Well, if it's a game he wants, a game he will get. "Oh? Make you? Make you?? Master, is that really wise of you~? You're asking for it!" Spectra lifted his head but barely got a good look at Gus before fingers met his sides and squeezed relentlessly up and down. "Spectra squealed, frantic giggles poured out, yet still he held on."
"AAH!!! Aaaahhahaa! Guuuhuhuus noohoho, don't! Not thaahahat!" He squeaked. Gus merely smirked. "Not this? Oh, but you asked for this! You want it to stop? Get up~" His devious fingers moved up and began kneading in between the ticklish man's ribs. Spectra screeched and buried his head into Gus' chest muffling the increased laughter.
"MMMMAHHAHAHAAHHAA MMHMHMHMHMMMMM!!! NAAHAHAHAAAA NAHAHAHAAAT THAAAHAHAT!!! MMMHMHMHMHMHMMMM!!!" He helplessly thrashed in his partner's lap. He really couldn't hold out much longer. Gus' fingers caressed every sensitive area on his ribs.
"Last chance, Master. Get up. "Or I'll bring out the big guns."
Spectra knew exactly what that meant. He was determined, though. "DOOHOHOHO YOUR WOOOHOHOHORST! I WILL BE VICTORIOUS!!"
"Hey, it's your funeral." With that, Gus reached his hands down to his lover's thighs, his fingers gently scratching at the backs. Even the lightest touch was too much, however. Spectra wailed as soon as fingers made contact. His lower half bucked and jerked around, and his giggles mixed harmoniously with his frantic laughter when Gus reached his most ticklish spots. "NAAHAHAHAA AAHAHA hahahaaaa nonoNoNONOAHAHAHAAAAA! S-STAAHAHAHAP STAHAP STAP!!! GUS PLEHEHEHheheheheheeeeeeaase! O-Ohhohohoooo gaahahash!" Gus just giggled. "You know, I'm starting to have fun, maybe we should stay here." He moved his attack to Spectra's inner thighs, the scratching mixing with perfectly timed squeezes. Spectra immediately let go. "NAAAHAHAHAT THERE NOT THERE!!! I'L GET UHUHUHUHUAAAAAP! PLEASE NO MORE I CAHAHAAHHAHAAAAN'T AAAHAHAHAAAA-!" His laughter soon fell silent, and Gus relented.
Spectra shot up and bolted to the other end of the couch. Giggles continued slipping past Spectra's lips. "Y-Yohohou're the worst Guuhuhuhus!!" "It worked though! Plus, you can't deny you didn't get what you wanted." Spectra merely glared at his boyfriend, but there was clearly no malice behind it, not to mention he still hadn't gotten his giggles under control yet. Gus stood up from his spot and walked over; kneeling down, he placed a hand on Spectra's shoulder. "How about a deal, Master?" "We finish work, and we can continue this tonight."
Spectra never worked so hard in his life.
#my art#my artwork#tickling#tickle#tickles#tickle fic#bakugan tickles#lee!spectra#ticklish!spectra#lee!keith#ticklish!keith#ler!gus#romantic tickles#sfw tickles
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Ch.1 Quantum realism
Chapter 1: Kang was cunning and calculating. He only wanted to show them what was possible. Hope shivered. She was afraid of him, but she wondered what the villain wanted to show. Janet, on the contrary, was shaking her head, desperately trying to talk her daughter out of this madness. Now, if only Scott would stop his lover.... However, that didn't happen. He was too busy with his wounds and broken bones. Kang defeated the ant man. He almost killed him, but that became not the worst of it. Cassie lay next to her father on the floor in a semi-fainting state. She'd been through enough. Hank was trying to cover for his wife while bringing Cassie to her senses. They were all a mess. Hope touched the reactor powering Kang's ship. Her eyes went black. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook herself off a little to regain consciousness. She didn't realize she was in a strange place. There was nothing around, nothing but vast darkness. And then, for a moment, Hope saw a light. It was followed by a flash in which she saw a portal. It was different. It was like a huge window where the wasp suddenly saw herself. But it wasn't her. A woman with long blond hair, dressed in simple jeans and a light-colored blouse with a pattern. She was standing somewhere on the boardwalk, holding a little girl of about five with a bottle in her hands. It was obviously her daughter, or rather that woman's daughter. Next to her stood and babbled something to a boy who reached up to her thighs. He had a smiley face on his T-shirt. He was the sweetest and most likeable.
All Hope realized was that it might have been her choice. That's what Janet was talking about. Multiple versions of the same person. From different universes. Is that possible? So it's like they're her children? I wonder who their father is? And how does her version live in that universe? Suddenly there was a voice apparently coming from the portal. - Who do we have here? - It was Scott. Dressed in his most ordinary clothes. The kids turned around and yelled, "Daddy!" The boy ran to his father and grabbed onto him tightly. - Hey, how are you guys doing? Didn't miss me? - Mommy was talking about the seagulls. - Henry! - the woman interrupted her son and walked over to her husband. - Who wants ice cream? - Scott lightened the mood. The children enthusiastically went to him and took the pistachio ice cream from his hands. - Especially for you ladies - Scott said softly - super strawberry with nuts! - He held out the cone to his wife.
- Decided to bribe me? - she smiled enigmatically - You succeeded.... - Where did you want to go? - Haley chattered about turtles the whole way. - Hope sighed tiredly, for her daughter's hobbies changed every day. And yesterday she wanted to shoot grav guns. Thank Hank for that. He gets a little carried away playing with his granddaughter. - Well, if it's that serious. -Scott thought- Kids, we're going to the aquarium! Hope just shook her head. Hope shook her head and walked with her husband toward the city. And then the so-called screen went out. The portal closed, and the real Hope found herself in the familiar (if you could say so) quantum world. She saw Scott lying there with broken bones, Cassie next to him, and her parents behind them, their arms around each other, supporting each other. They were looking at her with a kind of amazement. And then Hope realized that there was a veil of tears in her eyes. Her eyes were red, her hair disheveled, and her face a look of regret and fear. - What did you think? Did you like it? - Kang's deep voice penetrated her consciousness. He idly watches her reaction. This is the end... They've lost. The conqueror has broken the last hero.
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Hey, there, my plastic-fiending friends and toy-collecting comrades, it's time to take another nostalgic stroll down the ol' toy aisle of yesteryear and check out some classic Spacetime Sally action figures! This week we'll take a quick look at ten Sally figures starting with the one above, Crimson Captain Sally, a more subdued Crimson Squadron uniform.
As always, feel free to check out the Toys & Toons section for more.
LEFT: the Anti-Grav Acro-Aerialist Suit, pretty self-explanatory; CENTER: this was a run-of-the-mill Sally figure, merely packaged as, "Urban Hit Squad Sally;" and RIGHT: a typical variation on the Urban Hit Squad Sally from a different toy company, this one from Blimey Bros. which only made a few Sally figures and only sold at Woolworth's
Here we see some plain-clothes Sallies - LEFT: Metro Smarts Sally; CENTER: Jumpstart Sally, named so for the act of jumpstarting Eddie Queen's Rhapsody Fighter in the animated episode, 'Another One Bites the Dust;' RIGHT: Lunar Casual Sally
And finally some official uniforms Sally's worn throughout the series - LEFT: Safety Suit Sally, offering protection from radiation, noxious gasses, and providing sensor warnings to a multitude of known harmful substances to humans; CENTER: Ray-Bow Sally, aka, Light Archer Sally, the uniform worn by the Neptunian Guard Light Archers, basically a power-charged bow that emits a laser "arrow," it's just a laser gun in a different shape, but whatever; RIGHT: and finally, Space Sheriff Sally, when she took on the role of Sheriff in the small backwater planet town of Mesa Dunes.
Well, that's all for this week, folks. Short and sweet. If there's an old Spacetime Sally action figure you've got stuck in your memory and you'd like to see it again, send me a message, maybe I can dig it up for you.
#scifi#science fiction#toys#action figures#70s toys#80s toys#kenner#art#artwork#ai art#ai artwork#space girl#retro futurism#action figure photography#vintage action figures
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