Dimitri's ProfileDimitri's Profile4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Full name: Kayla Blaisdale
Pronunciation: kay-la blaze-dale
Nickname(s) or Alias: Kay, Goose, Nosebleed, Red / Dimitri, Dimi.
Age: FO3 - 19, FONV - 23.
Birthday: July 13, 2258.
Sexuality: Heterosexual, for the most part.
Nationality: American, with Irish roots.
Religion: Believes in God, but is casually religious at best.
City or town of birth: Vault 101.
Currently lives: Megaton, until 2280. New Vegas.
Languages spoken: English.
Native language: English.
Relationship Status: It's complicated.
Weight: 170 lbs.
Figure/build: Lean and slender, with developed muscles in her arms and legs - her main weapons when no hand held weapon can be acquired.
Hair colour: Burgundy/Dark Red.
Hairstyle: Long(to shoulderblades), mostly un-styled save for trimmed bangs. Worn in a ponytai
The Deviant's DictionaryThe Deviant's Dictionary10 years ago in Humor More Like This
$- A title that commands respect, such as "Sir," "Duke," or "Bass Master." Also: ', @, ^, #, %, and +
Adoptee- A subspecies of deviant, which attach themselves to larger predators, much like remoras or temporary tattoos.
Anime- One of the most thriving, fastest-growing religions in the world today.
Avatar- The tiny, tiny window in the computer screen, though which a deviant may look at the outside world.
Community- A safe haven where like minds can gather, free from the prying and oppressive eyes of the outside world, to talk about how sexy Jack Sparrow is.
Constructive criticism- Any comment that does not involve the words "dood," "teh," "poop" or "gay." Any replies made to constructive criticism will contain all four.
Dark Art- Pictures of various pale women with too much eye makeup. May or may not be bleeding from somewhere.
Deviant- Once thought to exist only in myth, the wild deviant has recently been found thriving in variou
Surreal RealitySurreal Reality:Surreal Reality3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The tides that bind a fallen city,
Swirls of vision, animosity...
Lost beneath a silvered glass,
Watch and wait as hours pass.
You find yourself, now surreal,
Surrounded by clocks with a ticking squeal.
You walk to the kitchen, a hand you find,
A platter in which to place your mind.
The microwave dings, the toaster rings,
From the oven you pull, intestinal strings.
You stab with the knife, it ends in your head,
Place your mind into a toasted bread...
You walk to the car, you breathe in deep,
You look into your pocket; the bottle you keep.
You take a long swig, it's a magical drive,
Your soul falls asleep while you await to arrive.
Silence, broken silence,
Emptiness filled with eyes and ears,
Rainbows haunt and tear the skies,
Falling rain like bitter tears...
Broken and unspoken,
Suddenly you are bowed!
Your throat explodes with shards of glass,
It ends the life to which you vowed...
Each gurgle of blood that is caught on your lips,
The sputum you cough is fleck
Defunct FuturesSo, what's it like in the year 2012 in the...Defunct Futures3 years ago in Settings More Like This
2012 in 50's-world, everyone in the US wears hats. Men wear suits, women wear dresses or cute pantsuits. T-shirts and jeans or sweats are something nobody older than a teenager would be caught wearing. There are a lot of uniforms. Everything is very clean and often metallic or gleaming.
The Cold War is of course going on, and China, the Soviet Union, indeed everything from East Germany to Vietnam is the Red World, a unified entity which includes some parts of Africa, including the Red Congo. (Cuba, on the other side, is Capitalist and more-or-less democratic, if corrupt). Everyone in the Red World dresses the same, drives the same standard car, and reports for interrogation four times a year. (Except for the Inner Committee. But to get to that position on must have taken the interrogation drugs dozens of times). Although a "standardized" Socialist culture is promoted, the Chinese are still Chinese, and the increasing tendency of
Le garcon du desertLa lune brillait, pourtant, la soirée, telle une courtisane obscure, avait promis d'être belle.Le garcon du desert7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Comme une courtisane obscure, elle avait menti.
La tempête faisait rage. Le sable tournoyait, cinglait l'air, retombait en rafales perçantes et se renvolait aussitôt sous le souffle dominateur de la tornade furieuse.
Le ciel était sombre, l'air était sec.
Et il aurait voulu qu'il pleuve, qu'il pleuve, qu'il pleuve des torrents. Que la pluie lave la terre et le sang, que le ciel pleure comme autant de larmes sur ses joues brunes, comme autant de coups de griffes sur son coeur éclaté en mille.
Elle était morte.
Et c'est ta faute.
Le garçon se plia sous l'insinuation perfide. Le démon y mettait du sien, refermant une main crochue sur les entrailles du possédé qui hurlait, maintenant, de rage comme de douleur, couleur carmin, comme autant de sang par terre, comme autant de cris dans sa pauvre tête égarée.
A WriterI'm a mere writer. I may not have the weapons to impact you instantly as so many skillful painters or photographers do. My art may not be a rainbow, only white and black.A Writer5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
But unarmed am I not. With words your emotions I will shake. Fear this you must not. Just don't stop reading. Enter my world. Do the unthinkable. Come my comrade in arms, let's make a revolution.
My words will change your heart. My words will do what a picture cannot do. They'll make you cry. They'll describe emotions in a way you'd have never dreamed of. Quote my lines you can, and smart you'll look. A girl heart you'll win, and my credit will it be, plus your bravery.
That's what I do and what I am. Inspiration is not always my ally, but love I'll put in my work. My best I tried, so if this your heart moved or tickled, an "add to favorites" button on your right is. Press it and show your gratitude.
The PLZ DictionaryPLZ- short-hand for please; an inactive account that is only used for its avatar in the likeness of an emoticon, whose username typically ends with "plz" (there are exceptions to the rule)The PLZ Dictionary8 years ago in Humor More Like This
plz-whoswho- a directory of PLZ accounts; some thought it to be a robot
PLZification- the act of creating an avatar to be used for a PLZ-account
(as defined by escanive)
PLZer- one who creates a PLZ
PLZd- the creation of a PLZ of a real deviant, i.e.- Real deviant: timmy64 PlZ: timmy64plz
In a Bar Around SaturnIn a Bar Around Saturn11 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Ho there, astronaut. I hope you don't mind me saying it, but you're the prettiest thing in a Fleet uniform I've seen this side of the belt.
Wait girl, don't run away like that! I don't mean you no harm. With all the radiation I've taken in my day, well, lets just say that isn't what I'm interested in. Sit back down, let me buy you a drink by way of apology. Barbot, a Reactor Fluid for me and - yes? One for the lady, too. That's good, girl, even with all the drugs around today, real astronauts always drink pure, natural, liver-killing alcohol. So it ever was, and so may it ever be. Amen!
You want to hear war stories, do you? Yeah, you read that ribbon right, I did fight in the Trojan War. But I've told those stories a hundred times, and the more I tell them the less you kids enjoy hearing them. Once upon a time they were full of glory and adventure - jacking in and manually flying a missile after an EMP took its brain out! Marines, l
Everyone's ClaustrophobicEveryone's Claustrophobic10 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Different people react with varying degrees of intensity, but no one is truly immune to being enclosed. It is the human spirit that drives it; freedom, liberty, control and power; these are the desires that propel people to action, the desires to take flight, to flap ones arms knowing that one's fingertips won't brush any boundaries, to think forward in time and know with clockwork precision what plans you have for tomorrow; and when these things are out of reach then frustration and terror overtakes the soul.
The enclosures that steal these things need not be iron grips. One need not be ensnared in straight-jackets and jail cells, or in stone rooms no bigger than one's figure. My enclosure was a tropical island, and I was its population of one. I fell and awoke there, and everything but my broken body was destroyed. I crash-landed on the unknown island with no means of escape, and I was bound to it for three years.
What Life We Had: SweetChileWhat Life We HadWhat Life We Had: SweetChile7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We were always funny in that car-crash sort of way, you know? Like a train wreck, where no matter how nasty or ridiculous it got, you couldnt turn away. We were an icon of sorts.
Polar opposites. We were so completely different, we attracted each other. What was that your mother always said oh right, Opposites attract. Were living proof arent we?
You were deeper on an intellectual level, always seeing the world in shades of black and white. All you ever saw was the reality. I was more out-of-the-box. I could see the fine line of gray in between; and I was pretty sure, every time you were with me, that maybe--just maybe you saw it too.
Best friends. That was us too. We were completely inseparable, constantly glued hip to hip. We made sure one was no where without the other. It was like having a brother I never had, but with all the benefits of not living in my house and pestering me day-by-day. We were each others, we owned the o
how to:being scared isn't at all like being nervous. it is opening the refrigerator door at three am, closing it. falling asleep and not realising you have woken up. wanting to disappear completely, and realise you could probably do it if you tried hard enough; making yourself stuck in your own mind. it is realising you could tell all your secrets to every soul in the world, and in the end it is still only you, sitting in that room and waiting. alone.how to:5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
everything becomes insignificant. any feelings you may have felt before. you don't even remember anymore why you were sprawled on the kitchen floor that night, drunk and crying. mumbling something about capsicum-monsters and sitting in the middle of the road and a car is coming. you probably haven't eaten for days, but in your mind it is still that moment and it keeps playing like a scratched cd.
you stop regretting that time you contemplated not braking, your attention slipping to the cracking red nail polish on your fingers.
it is like being s
The Day I Met God.I met God one evening.The Day I Met God.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The funny thing is, i wasn't wanting to find him.
God was smoking.
"Why are you smoking?"
"I'm God Kalea, i'm stressed."
We sat atop a big balcony and watched his creations move.
"They're so beautiful", God was breathing hard.
But I know they aren't. they aren't. they aren't.
How do you tell God that?
"Why do people rape, and murder and steal?"
God's mouth is the shape of a sinking ship
his face carries the wrinkles of one thousand dying souls.
Losing Part of Your Heart- Chapter 3 (Consoling)Losing Part of Your Heart- Chapter 3 (Consoling)3 years ago in Drama More Like This
It became apparent to the other Nordics that Berwald was slowly deteriorating. After that one meeting he never visited them and when they went past his house all the curtains were drawn, like it was forever night time there. They started worrying about a nation that was once ruler of the North. After all of the war, having kings like Gustav on his side and conquering vast amounts of land, Berwald was weakened. And a weakened nation needed friends, family, love and care to get back to power.
Unfortunately the Swede had none of those things.
He spent many days writing letters that could never been sent to Tino. Letters confessing love or letters telling the Finn about his loneliness and sadness. After a few hours spent getting his words onto paper he'd crumple it up and throw it in the fire, watching the flames engulf it and burn it to ash. The flames, dancing and flickering before his very own eyes, reminded him much about Ivan. He was like a flame, always burning and always hungry for
PwnSitting in the darkPwn8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No one to be seen
Yet people are around
With all their eyes on me
Crouching on the ground
Waiting for their touch
Holding to my hopes
Using them as a crutch
My final light is gone
They all gather in
This will be the fight
In which they can't win
I push my way up
And spread my devil wings
Wrap my guns around me
As they fit like rings
Shells fall to the ground
Blood spurts on the wall
Then I see my enemy
Standing there twice as tall
My power surges through me
Power he onced dread
I sent it full blast toward him
And watched him fall down dead
I turned away from him
A smile on my face
Silly little zombie
Now you're only waste.
SupermodelTiny waist, a pin-up figureSupermodel1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Thick red lips, a heavy hitter
For a place in her bed, they’re queueing up.
Meanwhile she’s starving and spewing up
Behind the scenes, she’s a total mess
Squeezing into an impossible dress.
She’s like a stick figure with curves like a bottle
That’s the price she will pay for being a model.
She’s nothing more than a toxic shrine
Injecting an image into a young girl’s mind.
Society is almost like a nuclear plant
Displaying her for being what a woman can’t.
Reaching “perfection” will craft you a kingdom
But I’d much rather be myself than be “Miss England.”
Girls should be allowed to be themselves
Without feeling bad about the way they are.
Are you really ready to trade yourself away
To become a clone of that girl you saw on TV yesterday?
Are you ready to trade away your health, life and happiness
To become a star in a sky where your screams are unheard?
Is esteem and popularity really
Cas d'HavreJ'ai trouvé une épitaphe sur le bord du cheminCas d'Havre6 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
Un cadavre abandonné, un mort du matin.
M'arrêtant devant pour en observer tous les traits
Je m'aperçois avec stupeur qu'à son coup mon nom est porté.
Je le regarde, emprunt de lumière dans les yeux.
Bien que par mégarde j'eus fait en arrière un pas ou deux.
Le calme qu'il dégage suinte tel un halo qu'il l'entour,
Un navire après l'orage respirant le souffle court.
L'aura d'amour et d'élégance,
éloigne vautours et odeur de rance.
Laissant béa, les gens qui autour s'amassent.
Ce cas Havre que j'ai découvert,
non loin d'une betterave arraché à la terre
coule maintenant en moi comme le Grave teinte mon verre.
Emanon's Gun Politics - Email QuestionsEmanon Gun Politics - Email QuestionsEmanon's Gun Politics - Email Questions2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I have gotten several emails about my view on guns, while I have written quite extensively about my view on guns, some of these people asked specific questions that I will now answer. I will also be writing a bit more about my interest with guns, as I did in a previous piece but expanding on it…
Understand, most of my especially more left leaning friends do not agree with my views on guns – since most of my followers do tend to be more left leaning I do not expect some of you to agree with me either. That’s fine everyone is entitled to their own view. I may be answering further questions in the comment section as long as it is an actual question.
I will be quoting or paraphrasing some of my other pieces that I have written on guns and will be linking them all in the Artist Comment Section below. Okay, here goes, the questions. Note, I have a habit of extrapolating my answers, so my answers can be a simple yes or no… but
L'AutomneJ'ai des collants opaque et une jupe plissée de malice.L'Automne5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
J'égraine le temps comme j'inonde le monde
de feuilles mortes et de routes qui glissent.
Je saute dans les flaques pour faire s'enfuir
les oiseaux et prévenir de mon arrivée.
Je peints ma vie en nuances de gris.
Douce et câline je m'enroule dans une couette de nuages.
Je fais scintiller le ciel par les millions d'éclairs que j'ai dans les yeux.
J'aime me draper dans les odeurs de la terre d'automne
Et hanter la nature de mes brumes Mystérieuses.
J'engourdis l'elliptique de mon passage jusqu'à l'hypnose hivernale.
Brony dictionary version 2Chapter 1: brony EnglishBrony dictionary version 24 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chapter 2: fan terms
Chapter 3: shipping related terms
Chapter 4: general equestrian terms in reality (may not hold true in the show)
Chapter 5: general equestrian terms in the show
Chapter 6: pony abilities and tricks
Chapter 7: meme
Chapter 8: G1 to G3.5
Chapter 1: Brony English
1. Anypony = anyone
2. blank flank = a young pony without a cutie mark
3. cowpony = cowboy, cowgirl
4. Everypony = Everyone
5. featherbrain = a term for a pony that is forgetful
6. Fillies and gentlecolts = Ladies and gentlemen
7. Hay yeah! =Hell yeah!
8. Hayseed = 1. It's an expletive Trixie used when she talked to Applejack. 2. Hayseed is also the name of a pony.
9. hoof-biting = nail-biting
10. hoofmade = handmade
11. hoof-picked = hand-picked
12. hoof-shaking = hand-shaking
13. hoof-wrestling = arm wrestling
14. hooved-stitched = hand-stitched
15. Hooves = hands or feet
16. Horseapples = expletive
17. It's time to pony up = it's time to man up
Dear DiaryDear Diary10 years ago in Humor More Like This
I ate a sandwich today. I realized for the first time that one does not use a spoon to eat them. I was at the deli and I ordered my usual, a turkey breast with salmon, bacon, and teriyaki sauce, sat down and began to eat, spoon in hand. The man next to me turned and said, "You know… You don't use a spoon to eat sandwichs…"
This blew me away. All that I had known: destroyed. My world became swirling mist of the unknown. Every fact I thought I knew suddenly came into question. The way of the universe died that day.
The man grew concerned about the glazed look I had while I was shaking uncontrollably in my chair. I snapped to, spoon still in my grasp. Then I stabbed him with it. A lot.
Thanks for ruining my day, asshole.
Today was unusual. I went to the super market and the cashier winked at me. I mean, it's good to be winked at by such a beauty of a person, but I didn't think it was very appropriate. Flattered, I gave a small sign of rejection, whi
On Women: My Grandmother IIThe day the world broke openOn Women: My Grandmother II6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
was the day her husband said he had enough love to cover
her and the other men she loved a thousand times more.
That was the day the world was plucked off a cosmic branch and
smashed open like fruit on a rock.
Molten lava spilling over eternity like the day every babe learned to cry.
This- it seems, is the nature of love.
There Lies An AngelThere lies an angelThere Lies An Angel6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
can you see?
The one with the wide gray eyes
afraid and abandoned,
hungry and cold.
She clutches her slippery bare legs,
the cold wind tousles her dull locks over one shoulder,
the thin fabric of her dress clings to her malnourished body.
There, beside her is the son of God,
The Day I Met God II.What do you say to the lonliest man in the world?The Day I Met God II.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"I think you're doing the best you can."
but in my mind it played past tense.
the best you could.
For awhile I had this sudden urge to hold onto God's hand.
I wonder how long it had been since someone comforted him.
This time, I shifted, uncomfortably.
"It's okay, Kalea. You don't have to."
for some reason I forgot that he knew every moment.
God got up, and walked to the edge of the balcony
i watched him grab the purple clouds and pull them closer to us
"Kalea, do you know what it's like to destroy?"
Yes God, I do.
I knew he could read my mind, but instead I said
I watched God pull the clouds back and let them fly across the sky
God walked back to the balcony wall and held his head in his hands.