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Promoted Deviations

Literature

Murder in Minneapolis: Premonition Becomes Reality

Murder in Minneapolis: Premonition Becomes Reality by p.b. wells A loving mother of three is turned into a headline, a footnote, a lesson, a warning. Renee Nicole Good. Ruthlessly murdered by one of the American Reich’s brown-shirts boys who call themselves law because it sounds cleaner than what they really are. Her crime was caring for those who still believed the torch meant welcome, that the 305-foot-tall lady in New York Harbor still offered a promise and not a trap. Come in, she says. Be free, she says. And the country nods with its teeth showing. Then the shots. Then the shock of disbelief. Then the brief stillness that follows violence when the world holds its breath and decides whether it will flinch or kneel. Within hours, with no evidence, with no shame, the regime slaps a label on her like a clearance sticker. Domestic terrorist. They say she ran over an I.C.E. federal agent. They say it fast, they say it loud, they say it like a prayer to a god made of

Literature

Recovery Journal of a Former Maniac

October 10, 2007 Hello, my name is Anthea Schaeffer… or Anthea Stones as I am now called by. This is the final entry of this journal. Jacques Belpois and Jérémie Belpois, I wrote this entry to you as a thank you for everything you have done. First, I want to write my gratitude to you, Jacques Belpois. Or, what you were once known as… X.A.N.A. An A.I. my husband and I created for the sole purpose of finding our daughter. You have served us well, but I am sincerely apologizing for not believing you. While we built the Supercomputer with the help of Michel Belpois, Walter Stern, Takeho and Akiko Ishiyama, Robert Della Robbia and that backstabbing traitor Lowell Tyron, I could feel myself growing more and more unstable with the nightmarish thought of permanently losing our daughter while you and Major Steinback did everything you could to find her. Waldo and I’s instability have led to a major breakout amongst our small group who helped us with building the Supercomputer, and we ended

Literature

Reshnika and the alien worm

Reshnika Kapoor was a brilliant young Indian scientist in her mid-twenties, with caramel-brown skin that glowed under the sterile lights of the laboratory. Her long, raven-black hair was often tied back in a practical ponytail, framing her sharp features—high cheekbones, full lips, and deep brown eyes that sparkled with curiosity. She had a slender, petite body, toned from years of yoga and long hours on her feet, with small, perky breasts and a smooth, rounded bum that swayed subtly as she moved between workstations. Reshnika worked at a cutting-edge biotech firm in Mumbai, specializing in xenobiology—the study of extraterrestrial life forms. Her latest project was a wriggling, gross alien parasite, reminiscent of the one from that old horror movie “The Scourge,” with a mouth lined by tentacles and a slimy, invasive nature. But this specimen was dead, shriveled up like a desiccated worm, preserved in a cryogenic chamber. Years of research had confirmed it was a parasite that thrived

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Agent505

Literature

Sinister Six Ch 7

The following morning I woke around 5:30 when the phone rang. If I wasn’t sleeping with my wife, I might’ve punched somebody. “Good morning, I am calling with your wake up call,” the lovely voice on the other side of the phone said. “Shall I send your order for room service?” I groaned and yawned. “What?” “Would you like me to go ahead with the breakfast order for the room, sir? Our room service doesn’t typically begin until six-” “Eight,” I replied. “Breakfast begins in this room at eight.” “Certainly sir, although someone suggested-” “I’m sure,” I replied. “Thank you.” With that, I hung up and flopped onto the bed, finding the pil...

Literature

Stolen Identity Ch 9

I carried Shelly up the hill and across the closed off road where the FBI had gathered just outside of the lab complex entrance. Keller ordered us to leave the emergency tanks on the ground as he showed us to a pair of black Lincoln sedans. "We'll take everything from here. For now, the three of you will be debriefed at your hotel." "Who are you guys? FBI?" Kevin asked. "Hmm" Keller muttered something quietly. "What?" I asked. "He's good." Keller turned to Kevin. "Name?" "Kevin Thompson... so are you guys FBI or something?" "Mr. Thompson, take a seat in that car on your right. I have some questions for you." "Wait... I'm with them.....

Literature

Sinister Six Ch 4

We returned to the hotel and paid for another night while spending the afternoon looking at apartments in the Midway area between Minneapolis and St. Paul. Using both Zillow and an apartment finder from the U's website with my tablet, I worked with Dora and Chellan to narrow down a short list of several apartment complexes, as well as a few other places. Although Shelly was reluctant to let me go alone with any of the three of the girls, she managed to convince Michelle to occupy at least two of them. That left me with Chellan, who would be the sole representative when it came to picking out a place for them to stay. Luckily, the realtor...

SteveIrwinFan96

Literature

Ei8ght outline

Three detectives William Somerset, David Mills, and Chase Winter—investigate a fugitive known as Herbert Carson, whose slayings are based on John Doe, even referring to himself as his spiritual successor. A connection with one of the victims leads the detectives to Colman Dawes, a local criminal who went missing near an abandoned house. William goes there and loses consciousness, waking up in Herbert’s lair. As Carson prepares to hand down a verdict on William for his misdeeds, a female associate Tiana intervenes and tells him to release him. William escapes the play, and Carson requests Tiana’s guidance on the matter. William and David return to search the house, finding no trace of Tiana or Carson. That night David is haunted by visions of the John Doe’s crimes, including the demise of his own wife. William and Chase go to the coroner Hodge's office and find that a cell phone of one of the Herbert's victims was stored in her body, recording her final location with its GPS. They

Literature

Darkman reboot outline

Dr. Peyton Westlake is a scientist developing a prototype for a new "synthetic skin" to help burn victims, but cannot overcome a flaw that causes the skin to disintegrate after 99 minutes. His girlfriend Julie Hastings discovers an incriminating document called the "Belisarius Memorandum" which proves her boss, real estate developer Louis Strack Jr., has been bribing members of the zoning commission. When she confronts Strack, he confesses to the bribery because it aided in his plans for designing a new city and creating countless jobs. He also warns her that the document could potentially be sought after by high-ranking criminals for its value. Following a breakthrough, Westlake realizes that the synthetic skin is photosensitive, and that light causes the material to break down. However, vicious crime-boss Robert G. Durant and his armed thugs suddenly invade Westlake's lab searching for the "Belisarius Memorandum", which Julie had left behind. Westlake is brutally tortured, while his

Literature

RoboCop Apocalypse outline

In 2249, Alex Murphy aka RoboCop leads an attack on a OCP base where he discovers schematics of human prisoners being incorporated as living tissue for a new weapon: the ED-280. RoboCop survives a nuclear explosion on the base and proceeds to extraction. Following RoboCop's departure, Tobias emerges from the base's wreckage and begins heading toward Los Angeles. RoboCop heads to the Resistance headquarters aboard a Los Angeles-class submarine and confronts General Ashdown and the Resistance commanders. They reveal that the Resistance have discovered a hidden signal that they believe can shut down OCP's machines and plans to launch an offensive against OCP's headquarters in San Francisco in four days due to an intercepted destroy list created by OCP, which will eliminate the Resistance's leaders within the same time frame. RoboCop learns that he is second on this list. Arriving in Los Angeles, Tobias encounters Tatiana and a mute child named Daniela during a skirmish with OCP's

KeithVII

Literature

18 Hawtied House

Meanwhile, Janine was watching Doctor Seville dance up a zombie. He finished with a flourish and stabbed the bedroom floor with his spear. …And nothing happened. Emma and Delta relaxed on the bed. The others milled about in the parlor. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs. Everyone spun around. A gre and black figure stumbled up into view. They all stared at the rotting cheerleader. “Rah!” the thing roared. Everyone took a step backwards. “Rah!” it repeated slowly. “Wait,” Delta asked. “Is it roaring or chanting?” “Sissssss,” the thing hissed. “Boooooom,” it moaned, then it paused as one trying to think through a difficult task. “BAH!” the assembled cast, crew and consultants shouted helpfully. “Bah!” it shouted agreeably, shaking a soggy pom-pom. Some dark fluid spattered the floor under it. “Push M back, push M back, way, way, way, waaaaaaaaay back!” “That sounds ominous,” Emma said. “Win the SUDDEN DEATH!” the zombie shrieked.’ “BAH BAH BRAINS!” it

Literature

16 Hawtied House

The spirit was a green-skinned woman, wearing a green evening dress that tapered off into a green mist below her waist. Green tears smeared her green mascara. "But her hair looks good," Emma said at Peter's elbow. "Yeah," Ariel said. "It's got more body than she does." "Shawwwwwwwt," the ghost warbled. "She was shot?" Gail asked. "Does she know who shot her?" Breeze asked. Madame Tzilka stepped back a bit from the ghost. "She very likely only remember ze tregedie, not ze detailz of ze crym." "Shot," the ghost repeated, gradually becoming clearer, closer to a conversational shriek. "Who shot you?" Ariel asked. "Back off," Breeze told her. "This is our ghost tonight." "You getting this?" Paul asked the cameraman. "Can we help her?" Gail asked Tzilka. "Ask er," the gypsy said helpfully. "Can they?" Emma asked Peter. "Ghosts haunt because they want to," Peter said. "That whole 'put the ghost to rest by finishing unfinished business' thing? In my experience it's a

Literature

17 Hawtied House

The fifth night, Paul arrived with someone dressed as a Hollywood Witch Doctor. "And tonight, Doctor Seville has promised to find us a Zombie!" "Oh, NO!" Emma cried. "What is it, Emma?" Cordette asked. "Well, a Zombie? Our Ghostbuster won't be able to help us! It'll eat our brains!" "Well, let's ask our on-the-spot Ghostbuster, who, tonight, is… Um. Janine Melnitz?" Paul read from his notes. In the Firehouse, Peter assured the on call Ghostbusters watching the show. "It's legal. She's an employee of Ghostbusters, Limited Liability Firm." "Thus, technically, a Ghostbuster for the purpose of the contract," Egon nodded. "And she gets paid overtime to spend an evening pointing a proton accelerator at self-centered young hawties," Winston said with a smile. "Exactly." On the screen, Janine explained, "Actually, there are no such things as Zombies. They're just ghosts with the ability to manifest in a nearly human form, with what appear to be solid bodies. About a Class 6

Boosted

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Literature of TigerEgern

Literature

79th Street Station pt. 76 - EDITED

"Bob?" a withered old gal asked. Bob pulled his legs back from the paved floor of the tunnel. Commuters, children, and all manners of pedestrians rushed by. Rushed through his non-existing legs. Being way too tall to comfortably fit the bench had lead him to all but blocking the tunnel with his legs "Eh?" Bob muttered. He ran his eyes up and down the old gal. A worn-out hooker. She looked almost 70, but could easily be as young as 35. Her skin was pale and rough, her face as gaunt as a dried out apple, she was dressed in a strangely revealing manner. The few patches of her topography still able to attract a potential customer's interest were on full display. The rest of her skin veiled behind skin-tight, harshly and overly brightly coloured polyester or black vinyl. Her feet were clad in faux leather, balancing on top of eight centimeter tall heels. The faux leather was peeling, revealing slender steel cap toes of a hard-tempered drop forged nickel-chrome alloy. A brutal weapon in the

Literature

79th Street Station pt. 75 - Edited

The putrid water surrounding Mother Imelda bubbled. The few grains of what had once been her childhood self giggled. The bubbles looked like farts in a bathtub. Finding joy in such a latrinical matter had been one of the thousand sins that paved the road to Hell. At least according to the perpetually angry nuns and lay sisters of the orphanage. Little had Imelda known, how the life in an orphanage that included male staff exceeded the life in the convent's orphanage in terms of brutality and abuse. At least the weekly baths were actually about washing the body. Summertime meant hot water. The solar powered water heaters provided hot water, that was actually hot. At the height of summer, there would be enough hot water for a bathtub bath for each child. They bathed in shifts, of course. One sixth of the child per day. Everyone showered on Sunday morning. They would be as clean as fresh air for the Sunday Mass. As summer gave way to autumn, the hot baths would dwindle into briefer and

Literature

79th Street Station pt. 74

Officer Baker snorted out a bit of orange soda. So much for not sitting upright while drinking from a can. He wiped his face with his sleeve and scratched his stubs. Most cops sported full beards when he was a kid. Or at least a trimmed-down beard. He had returned from his two years service as a conscript to find all the beards gone. The Arkonians were lizards, and thus grew no beards. The bare thought of their presence had pissed everyone off, but somehow most men had shaved their faces. Ol' Man Gus had left a fairly decent moustache behind, but had otherwise followed suit. Full beards had become all but extinct, and Baker had sported a clean shaved face ever since. Or a stubby face. Especially on his days off. Growing older had lead to stubs feeling itchy. Baker couldn't figure out why, though. Being his father's son, he had learned, not to wear down his mind by scrutinizing things he didn't understand. And he had to admit, that there was a lot of things he didn't understand. He

Written Words

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Written Commissions For Me

Literature

COMM: Neah Bay, Washington.

--- It was remote enough. On the western seaboard dotted with wet rocks and pine trees, with temperatures that had little annual fluctuation being strongly influenced by the Pacific, nestled in the stony, chilly harbor bay lay a population of not even a thousand people; mainly old, grumpy fishermen, tired seasonal workers, dock attendants on a six-month work period and the odd isolated native community --- bordered Canada close enough to offer a quick potential escape route through mountain or ocean, Gus thought, all while being tactically near enough to home to be familiar. Was secretive enough for another solitary boat among a hundred other old frigates, tiny yachts and small, semi-abandoned ships to go unnoticed, with the most active hub being a nearby weather station at Tatoosh, of all things, on a island off the coastline, lost in the spiraling wintry fog. Neah Bay, he concluded, was the immaculate getaway for someone on the run, he figured, clutching Raven's tiny hands

Literature

COMM: Gus, a dad to Raven + Angel (Headcanons)

--- ― A protective father; His personal hang ups, possessiveness and territorial tendencies galore, it is undeniable that Gus is someone who can be considered an outright smothering parent, perhaps even overly so, in part due to the nature of his profession and the environments he often dwells in not being fitting for the young and innocent, in part due to the fact that he simply is, the many enemies, the high-stakes danger of his lifestyle and his general manner making it so that he is exceedingly defensive who interacts with his children, why or when, ensuring Gus does feel most comfortable when Angel and Raven are hidden away from public sight; tucked away in either one of his many civilian seeming safehouses, aboard a boat or a ship he owns, few people even genuinely knowing he's a father and frankly this is a reality of life he'd much prefer keeping the way it is, not wanting to openly flaunt something he considers a vulnerability, meaning that most of Angel's and Raven's

Literature

COMM: Angel Travis Headcanons

--- ― Even though she remembers her original, biological parents in Rattlesnake and Gus Travis, she has partially chosen to self-induce what could be referred to as trauma-caused amnesia, deliberately going about memory-holing her formative years with her family before Terry Silver and Scorpion took her and her brother under their own wing, this change in her possibly being due to stress and severe PTSD from her time on the run with her criminal fathers and subsequently, the brief time she spent on the streets with her sibling after they were arrested, leaving them defenseless. Simply put, a lot of Angel's memory is genuinely muddied, skewed, confused because she plays-pretends at not recalling a lot of events from her early life as a way of reinvention and mental and emotional self-preservation; a great many things being too painful to recollect, or perhaps, in ways, it is her spite and a grudge she holds towards her biological parents for what she sees as blatant abandonment

Wish Upon A Star poem

Caoimhe-Aisling

Published: Oct 20, 2008

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Description

Submitted to Cheryl's Pals Collabs poetry challenge. [link]
(I'm known on MySpace as Lady T, hence the sig at the bottom.)

Special thanks to:

| Horhew [link] | memories-stock [link] |

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