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Literature
L.B.L UP #023 /The Smart Friend/
We chatted a little more on the drive over but suffice it to say my mind was elsewhere. I was musing on what Eliza was saying when she was talking about change. She obviously felt that things should go back to the way they were, go back to the sex charged scheming and wild use of my magical app. Sure that was lots of fun but I was now missing two weeks of my life, could I even open the app again not knowing what could be contained within, what it could do to me or her?. "And then I rode her belly like one of those bucking bronco machines" was what managed to snap me back into actually paying attention to my surroundings. "Were you doing that thing where someone's not paying attention, so you say something inane?" I asked her rather confused by the last statement out of it's context. "God no, as you well know when you're not paying attention I just take my shirt off" she told me with a teasing smile while snuggling into my shoulder. "It's a quote from a nun, she had some kind of breakdo
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Literature
Green and Silver
Just so nobody gets lost:
Yakuza: a powerful Japanese criminal organization
Homare-kai: (fictional name btw) ‘honour’ group
Sakazuki: a ritual of exchanging sake cups as a means of pledging loyalty
Oyabun: the absolute leader of a yakuza clan
Gaijin: a foreigner
Kyoudai: Japanese for brothers
Wakagashira: middle man in practice right under the Yakuza clan leader, the oyabun
-- -- --
It was 1954.
He watched the movement of time. It was the thin moonlight leaving her skin, the apology of goodbye in her silver eyes, the tears staining her cheeks.
They met in familiar places that night — they met in love, in regret, in the shadows of the yakuza.
The same meeting places; just found in a different time, by different people.
They had changed with the seasons; been chilled by winters, strengthened by springs, burned by summers, fallen in autumns.
And she was still beautiful — beautiful at first sight, at last sight, at every other sight he managed to steal and remember
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Literature
Die Gefangenen der Roper Bande 06
Wir wussten nicht wie lange wir jetzt schon gefesselt und geknebelt und mit verbundenen Augen in diesem muffigen Kellerraum lagen. Nachdem zwei der Banditen Christina und mich wie zwei verschnürte Bündel in dem Keller abgeladen hatten, in dem Jill und James seit unendlichen Stunden gefesselt und geknebelt ausharren mussten, war keiner der Banditen mehr nach unten gekommen. Mit keinem Wort hatten sie gesagt, was sie mit uns tun würden.
James hatte am Anfang versucht, mit uns irgendwie zu kommunizieren. Wir hörten, wie er irgendetwas zu sagen versuchte, aber wir hörten nur ein unverständliches Wimmern und Stöhnen. Wir hatten beide versucht zu antworten, aber die Knebel, die uns tief im Rachen steckten, erstickten jedes Wort.
Nach einer Weile wurden James und Jill immer panischer. Sie ahnten wohl, dass die Banditen auf und davon waren und uns einfach in unseren Fesseln zurückgelassen hatten. Dabei schien es ihnen völlig egal zu sein, ob es uns
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Literature
A Vigilante No More: Part 1
In a world where most people have a special power, known as a “Quirk”, it falls to those with the profession of “Hero” to police the use of these Quirks. Once thought to be an unattainable dream, becoming a hero is now a possibility. Licensed by the government, these Heroes fight villains, save innocents, and dispense justice to those who would use their powers for ill intent.
However, there are some crimes that are merely too small to be noticed by any of the licensed heroes.
That is where vigilantes, unlicensed, illegal heroes come in. Helping to solve neighbourhood problems the police and pro heroes do not want to deal with, they operate outside the law.
However, there will be a day, perhaps sooner than later, that the law catches up to them.
-----
In the Naruhata district of Tokyo, far above the streets, a girl jumped from rooftop to rooftop, soaring through the air. To her, travelling through the sky was more familiar than travelling on the ground. She made
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Literature
Cars 3 - Not born fast but happy (11)
6 p.m. Wheel Well hotel...
Cruz parks her yellow Ferrari outside of the building. She wears a blue t-Shirt and jeans. Sitting in the car she looks at the hotel and thinks, who this Romanow is. And why Jackson allows her to go out with another man. Doesn't he want her? Did he just play with her and got enough from her?
Cruz: *hits depressed the wheel* Why I'm thinking of that? We aren't even together. He is not my boyfriend or something like that. He never asked me if I want to be his girl. Maybe he told Aaron that I'm his girl, but to protect me. Arrgh, Jackson, you drive me crazy! And why Jakow Romanow? *decides to find out the answer and gets out of the car and walks to Mater, who works as waiter tonight* Mater?
Mater: *turns around to Cruz and greets her* Hey, Cruz!!! Can I help you?
Cruz: *blushes a little* Well I have a date with someone named Jakow Romanow.
Mater: *looks at his notices and found it* Oh, yeah. Romanow. I found his name. But he is not here. I think he is a little l
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Literature
the lives of butterflies - year i. autumn (part 1)
I sat there, watching the humans. Watched as they gathered their foods and their cloths and their wares and set them up, piece by piece, on the tables of their wooden stands. Their voices, crowding together in a song of highs and lows, quiets and louds. These smells, these sounds, were new, and I wondered if I would meet him today.
“I expect you to be sold in the next few visits, Pup. There is a market for wolves like you. Young. Hard-working. Diligent.” From the corner of my eye I see her rough hands, still strong, hanging up artwork on a metal frame. She turns and smiles wide, gazing into my eyes. “And maybe… handsome? I cannot tell anymore.”
The crackly voice of the seer. For how long have I listened to her? I stare at my hands and arms, marked with scratches and bruises from my years of training with her. My knees were still raw from yesterday’s tasks.
“Pup, your answer?”
I meet my eyes just below her gaze, my ears tall. “I look
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Literature
Steve meets Al
    Steve sat there on his bed preparing for slumber, his eyes on the brink of closing. His forge emits faint light as his sand became fragile glass. Sand was a resource he could spare, but color was a thing never really appealed to him. Oak planks and a fence atop were just fine on their own. Still… He liked the way his daisy flower swayed in the wind. It just sat there doing nothing in it’s brick pot Steve yawns and turns crawling  underneath his sheet falling over into the verge of slumber.
    “Knock!” Zombies, it was always fucking zombies. Opening his eyes again Steve grabbing his [iron] sword prepared for an attack.
    “Why can’t they drop diamonds,” Steve half mumbles to himself. “It’s been a week and still no fucking diamonds.” He takes a deep breath and looks through the door. Nothing. Steve turns his head ninety degrees and looks out the hole in his w
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Literature
Emotions can be Unhelpful pg.1
It was quiet in the cold, steel hallways. The only sound was David’s black, leather shoes, tapping against the hard flooring. The lighting was fairly dim in the partially underground building, besides the ever few fluro blue lights spaced out. He stayed against the wall of the seemingly endless corridor. Usually there might be at least one fellow human walking around. Their folder with their honestly frightening research, their lifeless eyes ignored everything except their purpose. David did not like it here, but it was his old friend who accepted him here. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to erase his now criminal past.  
Not just anybody gets accepted here. The most important quality of all these people, is their complete desensitisation to others. None of these people were normal, their boss did not just take anybody off the streets. They were carefully selected. Though how they were selected or found, was beyond David. Perhaps he did not want to know.  
Dav
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