Sissy Fun Index of stories The making of a sissy maid Husband Stories Links Step daughter domination. 4/24/2014 3 Comments After a failed marriage and seven years of being single I finally thought I hit the jackpot! I used an on line dating service and found a wonderful woman called Deborah. The Sissy category features 55 435 pictures and 4 774 gifs from 23 subreddits. Scrolller is an endless random gallery gathered from the most popular subreddits. babies were safe and sound, the lights were shut off and we all heard the door lock click as the three left. The Ladies. Lady Susie is the proprietor of Chateau Femme and she’s been transforming men into sissies and maids for over 14 years. Her makeup kit is a treasure trove and she’s ready to give you the smoky eyes, pinks lips, fluttering eyelashes, glossy nails and long, feminine hair you’ve always wanted. It is in many ways a contradiction, and the seeking male has to walk a fine line between looking like a sissy and actually being a sissy." I was irritated at first (I mean it appeared to be aimed in my direction) but to be fair it did explain a lot. Maybe I'm not so different than any other woman out there. Search, watch, and cook every single Tasty recipe and video ever - all in one place! The University of Slavery and Servitude is a one stop solution for all aspiring slaves, who wish to learn ins and outs of Femdom, as well as to gain experience from the hand of knowledgable, but very sexy Dominatrix. When women help girls feminize a sissy, perhaps mother daughter tag teams may be formed along with aunts, cousins, cheer leaders, sororities with a pledge of pantywaists or a group of giggling girl scouts baby sitters. Having a group of females facilitate the feminization may address a social convention. dtf1: I grew up in a home where Mom was boss, females were superior, and men, though loved / respected / and cared for, were submissive and obedient to the Women/Girls (although I only had one brother – no sisters, drat!). My brother and Father had to obey my Mom. When I reached age 14, I became “the Woman of the house,” when Mom was gone, and my brother and Dad had to obey me. Just nod if you understand Sissy. The Rope Trick 4 by Fiona Matheison 80 21 A gangland chief's girl is kidnapped for ransom, she escapes, but his booby trap works too well. Bodysuit bliss by Jessika Cloud 294 29 Matched this pvc bodysuit with two layers of tights, over the knee stocking boots and a harness. ...
2020.09.26 00:58 Thedesiman Spy cam tanning
This story is copied from internet many years ago. Although it's a work of fiction but it's a good one. So I am sharing this will all of you.
I am a sissy faggot I live in st Louis mo im in the closet no one knows i dress in femine clothes I was married when I was 20 and straight after a year I caught her cheating on me , we only had sexy 3 times I couldn't get hard with her , I was allways thinking of men, masters, tops, at home I stole her panties bras high heels lip stick, and would dress around the house, after the divorse I got the house and I started to wear panties to work everyday and shave my legs smooth , somedays i wear stockings under my work clothes and butt plugs ,my toe nails are bright pink allways ,, i hope no one catches me then on weekends I would dress up all weekend long , I then shaved my armpits and cock and balls ,, I was now smooth from the eyeballs down ,,
im very scared at being blackmailed and exposed and ruined but i have many fantasys like this one.
i wish i was caught and exposed as a sissy faggot cumdump by a dom black or white master or mistress online but i get embarrassed about thinking about being forced to be with a gay master . I meet him online in a sissy chat room we chat for a week or so and one night he says he has a new softwere program that is faster in chat and he asked me to install it . he uses the softwear program teamviewer to get into my computer and findout all my secrets , once i installed it he got on line with me and he made me watch as he added him self as the adminstraighter and he told me the computer was going to go to black screen for about 20 mins and for me to take a shower and shave really close and get dressed femine , in the mean time he added programs like keylogger , spy softwear, parental control softwear, mint. com , and webcam softwear, all to find out my info and blackmail and ruin me
he found out my passwords and email contacts and where i worked the first night , the next day he found out my home address and credit card numbers my home phone number and cell phone number , he slowly started to expose me and ruin me . hes goin to make me into his white sissy slave , i cant do anything he controls me now , he embarrasses me and humilates me my online master then told me that he was a dominate gay master and he was a cop in city that he lived in and that he can do anything he wants to me , because whos going to believe a sissy over a cop ,, he says he owns me now and that fun going to begin,, my black master found out i had being lieing about being single and that i had a girlfriend of two years and he made me get dressed like a slutty school girl and hold up my drivers licence to my face and say my real name and then say my sissy name and then say im a lieing sissy faggot and that I going to break up with my girlfriend so can serve my online black master forever and then I had to call her and break up with her over the phone on speaker phone so he would be able to hear everything she said while he watched me on webcam . I had no idea I was being recorded doing this , after that he made me dress femine everyday after work , made me wear girls shorts and tops in public, then made me buy a tiny thong bikini online that he picked out and then go to a tanning bed everyday in it and show him the thong tan lines he made me buy a months worth of tans, he watched me get dressed in girls work out short shorts and girls tops that say diva or princess on them , with bright bras underneath and pink lipstick and no wig , then go run errands like to the post office or bank exposing myself as a sissy making sure to take pics outside of them to prove i was exposing myself. making me call up on 3 way calling so he could listen as i called nail salons and made appointments using my sissy name to get my nails done making sure i prepay using my male name so i cant call and cancel. making me call to get my eyebrows waxed and shaped in a femine arch at a different salon everytime...then after i was off the phone he would call them back and tell them what he wanted them to do to me ,,, i didnt know he called them back ,, he would send me to the mall to get my ears pierced . then sent me to a tattoo parlor wearing a fem boy look with pink lipstick on and get my tongue pierced and buy a few tongue rings and barbells, and a large pink cock shaped one, a few weeks later I had to go there again and get my nipples pierced and gold rings installed, every time I went the girl at the desk laughed at me and told me most real men would never get there nipples pierced or wear lipstick , then a couple weeks after that I had to go back again and get my belly button pierced and buy a ring and a charm that says SISSY from the same girl so embarrassed , then my black master made me buy a cb6000s chastity device online one he picked out for me and watched me buy form his computer and he sent me his lock in the mail with no key , he made me get on web cam and open the ups box and beg to lock my clit up with his lock. he showed me the key in his hand, and now he owns my clit no more hardons no more cumming with permission ever . he started making me take a chemical castration pills that he sent me UPS he made me open it up on webcam and beg over and over again to take the pills so my clit would shrink and not get hard again. if i didnt he was going to make me get castrated by a doctor he knows . my black master my owner then sent me out again to the tattoo parlor and he sent a tattoo design too , he told me to prove im a black owned white sissy boy and get a Ace of Spades tattoo to be tattooed on my left ass cheek , and to get 2 small black panther paw prints on my chest ,buy then everyone in the tattoo shop knew I was a sissy fag and they asked me if I really wanted the tattoos , I told them yes I want everyone to know I love black men, my black master set up a paypal account with my creditcard and made me start buying stuff for him on his wish lists , i watched on my computer as he drained my bank accounts and he made me take out more credit cards in my name and have them sent to him. from different card companys , each day for a week he made me go online and apply for a different card , he then made me send him my tax forms from the last five years so he knew where all my money was , and made me change my direct deposit paycheck from my full time job to his bank account, and at my work he made me cash in my 401 k early all 80,000 dollars sent straight to his bank totally ruining me he made me get a second job on the weekend days at target so that i could earn more money for him and have every penny of my new job go right into his account by direct deposit , that way i never see a dime of my pay check, he made me watch on my computer as he made ads on Gay dating web sites and upload my pics and fill in all the info about me , my location , so I can hook up with gay guys in my town, I couldn't believe he was doing this , and meet them asap , for quick blowjobs ,he told me he knew I wasn't gay but he didn't care he was going to turn me totally gay and I will never get pussy ever again, I started to cry on web cam, he was laughing at me , he would make me watch as he logs in on these gay web sites and chat with guys in my town and tell the I was a sissy and I need to swallow a load right now , then he would send them my cell phone number and make me answer every call on speaker phone so he could hear me set up a date and time for me to suck them off. thats when he started making me pay a fag tax every week of 5 dollars for every cock i sucked and 10 for every time i got fucked, every week he would tell me how many strangers i had to suck off at xrated book stores or from craigslist ads he placed , there were lots of penaltes if i didnt suck off the right amount of guys , high interest rates, every week the amount of cocks i sucked off would increase,so i had to pay more and more .. my black master then started making more craigs list ads, back page ads, and adam for adam ads,for me ,making me meet strangers for blowjobs, then he found a few more adult book stores near me and made me go to the glory holes booths and suck off strangers and send him pics immediately almost every night sometimes right from one store to the next, then he finnally made me get fucked bareback only by multyple strangers no condoms that way my hole was full and my panties were full of cum , then he found a few gaybars by me and truck stops to go suck off real truckers , he made me buy a cell phone with GPS tracking on it so he could track everywhere i went .. all over town ,, so he knew if i was in the book store sucking off strangers for hours or at the tanning salon or at the truck stop or rest areas looking to be used as a cumdump sence he was a cop he found out were the real hookers in st louis would walk the streets and get picked up and arrested , he would make me get dressed up like a street hooker on web cam and make me take the bus down town to the block were the real hookers would pick up tricks and I would have to take pics outside a pawn shop and wear my Bluetooth ear piece and walk the streets while he talked to me telling me what to say to strangers when they pull over ,, he would make me charge 20 for a handjob and 30 for a blowjob, he would listen as I got in car after car sucking off strangers , he would make me stay out there for hours until I earned 200 dollars ,I was so scared I would get arrested and put in jail. he tracked me on GPS all night long so I couldn't get away. he next day made me go to best buy and get 8 survailince cameras and install them in every room in my house and install the softwear on my computer so that he can watch me on his computer at all times ,, even in the bathroom , about that time he made me call a doctors office on 3 way calling and make appointment to see a doctor he knew , I had to tell the nurse on the phone that I was a male looking for female hormones to start growing breasts and that I would like the earliest appointment I can get ,, I had to give her my male name and address and phone number so embarrassing, my master had already told the doctor I wanted the strongest expermintal female hormones they have and I wanted huge tits and big implants and my nipples to stick straight out 24/7 , I didn't know any of that when I went to see the doctor my master made me dress like a male fem faggot boy with a little lip stick and a pink bra under a womens sheer blouse and NO WIG , so everyone was looking at me , I had answer a few questions from the nurse and the doctor came in to see me he was a big black doctor and he pinched my nipples and told me I will make fine looking girl and me pulled out a niddle and injected something right into both of my breasts , and then he made me sign a lot of papers with out me reading them , and then he gave me a prescription for a 3 month supply and for me to take them 2 pills 3 times a day , and make another appointment for 3 months . my master made me start taking them right away and he made me start taking them on webcam and making me take more then the doctor ordered , and after 2 weeks my nipples were getting hard all the time and my breasts were sore and getting swollen he keep making me tell him how big I wanted my tits to be 36c and he would tell me that he wants them at least 38 dd or bigger and for them to look totally fake after I get my implants ?? after I earn enough money sucking off strangers walking the streets for implants he told me.. all this took about 8 months or so then my black daddy made me take out a second morgage on my house, each time i went to the bank i was dressed more and more girly ,my black master would make me dress on web cam the way he wanted me to dress a little femine then he would make me use skype on my way to the bank so that he can watch me then at the bank he made me were a blue tooth ear piece so he can tell me what to say to the female bank employee .so embarrassing, he contolled all my money now he made me shut off cable tv i was never home any more i was out sucking off strangers he made me walk into my kitchen and he made me throw out all my food , suger, flour , cookies, all canned goods , made me clean out my frig , nothing at all was in there , all my cabents were totally empty of every thing , no food in the house at all, he wanted me on a strick diet so I can lose 30 lbs, he sent me to the store to buy ramon nuddles only a months worth, thats all I was allowed to eat, ,i was on strick diet of ramon nuddles and cum form strangers . made me get on ebay as he watched then he made me upload pics of my car and sell it fast for cash and then send him the money fedx .then I had to cancel my car insurance,and then I had to cancel my heath insurance, i had to walk or take the bus to work now and and then I had to give all my male clothes away at goodwill ,except a few male work clothes, he gave me a small allowance each week my owner then made me buy a you tube of superglue , and then get dressed up in a bright pink bra and pink stockings and frostie pink lipstick , and then get on a live gay chat room and open my web cam and start following orders from strangers after 30 mins my master started sending me orders seat on a 9 black dildo and bounce up and down, after that he made me get the tube of superglue and show the camera it was brand new , then he send me a order for me to beg him over and over to squeeze the superglue into the padlock key hole on my chastity device , telling me to say how I am a loser white faggot and I don't need my tiny clit anyway and how I cant get hard anymore and how I wish I born a real girl , please master allow me to superglue your lock shut forever , I beg you over and over again,, after 10 mins , you finally give the order to do it ,, I put the webcam down next to my clit and squeeze the superglue right into the keyhole filling it up , after that my master started laughing at me and told me that now that ive proven myself to him that I quess he doesn't need to hold onto the key anymore and then he told me he was going to throw it into a lake today when he goes out .
two days later he made me get dressed like street hooker and beg him to allow me to cut up all my own credit cards up on web cam as he watched he made me tell him my real name and that I didn't need my credit cards any more because I don't know how to deal with money because I was a white sissy faggot and he laughed and showed me that he has the ones the bank sent him in his hands now . the bills kept coming to my house for every card he had , he would max out one and then make me call the card company on three way calling and i had to get the credit line incressed for that card , after i hung up he would laugh at me and tell me what a loser i was and how this was never going to end he was going to blackmail me forever and totally ruin me ,, the next day was friday and my black master made me call in work sick and get dressed like a bimbo cumslut. in bright pink micro mini skirt, white thigh high stocking bright pink 5 in open toe heels that are locked on , a pink and white crop top that has the words SISSY BOY on the front in glitter , i large black inflatable butt plug is in my ass pussy ,a red g string pulled up high and red 36 d cup bra that i have large filled water ballons , a leather collar on that says CUMSLUT.my make up is pink frosted lipstick, and red lip liner ,heavy black eyeliner and i have big pink plasic ear rings on, my hair is blonde and big , i have on 2in long pink finger nails and im holding my pink barbie purse. then he told me go outside and get in the car because today your going to the DRIVER LICENCE OFFICE and when i pulled up outside the office he made me put on my blue tooth ear piece and ordered me to go inside and get the form to legally change my name . now get out of the car and go get your sissy named changed FOREVER . he waited till i got the form and then he said to start filling out the form and wear it says new legal name he made me put SISSY PATTIE SWALLOWS . and then take a picure of the form and send it to him before i turned it in ...then after i turned it in i had to go get your new driver licence picture done . or he said he will email everyone on my contacts list your boss, your parents, and your x wife , all the pics of you sucking all those cucks and swallowing all that cum, do you under stand sissy faggot
then after 14 months my master made me sell my house real quick to a guy he called and sent all my info too about my house he made me meet him dressed like a sissy hooker in my own house while he watched on web cam i had to sign every paper where it said my name i had to sign both names then i had to suck him off and let him fuck me bareback and sign the last paper as he shot his cum deep in my hole and then go to the bank and send all 300,000 dollars to his bank account every penny then in 2 weeks i had to move into a lowrent apt he picked out on the web in the black part of town,and i was to openly be a gay white sissy there and never lock my front door ever, no drapes all windows unlocked, he made me sell or give away all my furnature bedroom set , kitchen table , tv, everything in my old house was gone , everything I didn't sell I had to rent a big dumpster and he hired a couple of guys to totally clean out the rest of my house while I was at work and all my pictures family photos everything was now gone . my entire old life was now gone forever.. he wanted everything in my run down apt to be totally girlie and femine, and only furnature I can have is a couple of lawn chairs and a pink girlie bedroom set , with pink sheets and bed spread , he then made me start putting in applacations in at girlie jobs and the gaybars putting my new name sissy pattie swallows on every form until i got hired as a waiter at the gay bar down the street from my new apt i had to walk to work every night and then walk home after every night. after I got the job at the gay bar I had to work there for a 2 weeks doing both jobs not getting home tell 2am then going to work at 7am, finally my master made me get all my male work clothes , pile them up on the table and get a pair of sizzers and he told me to start cutting them all up into small pieces , every thing male I had left was now gone,, I was crying , he told me I didn't need anything male ever again,
thats when my BLACK MASTER finally did it and made me watch on my computer as he typed up my letter quiting my job , and attaching 10 different pics of me dressed femine and slutty sucking strangers cocks with cum on my face and in my mouth , and then making ME beg over and over on web cam to push send on my computer, i cried and finally did it that night i had to get dressed as a sissy boy and go to the same tattoo parlor that he sent a design too and prepaid and get a tramp stamp in 4in high letters(SISSY CUMDUMP) , now i have to work at a gaybar wearing girls shorts shorts g string underwear cb 6000 and cute crop top a pushup bra and bright pink lipstick and NO WIG
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2020.07.24 16:38 wolf24Jul Spy cam tanning
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2020.07.18 15:43 Agona18Julder Dad and Dau-ghter Real Por-n
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submitted by Agona18Julder to Home_Made_Fun [link] [comments]
2020.06.28 18:56 IcisBlack Spy cam tanning
What is it about a fashion style that emote and makes us fall in love--or at the very least--leave lasting sentiments in our hearts?
The famous Met Gala places fashion houses and fashion in the spotlight for all to remember. Handbags, a sub-product group within fashion, are also considered art pieces that are collected and curated by individuals and museums alike. One can argue that handbags are an essential piece of art that often withstand the test of time. These days, however, the fashion trends are faster than speed of sound with the unfortunately by-product of the love we once had for our handbags are now diluted to infatuation.
This post may be dry to read -- part history lesson, part documentary, part searching for meaning behind the brand. I'm just searching for some answers as I felt the need to educate myself to fashion. To thoroughly enjoy and wholeheartedly love any art piece, the connection and appreciation for the piece will be a much stronger bond when I learn of the history behind it. It is like a painting that doesn’t come to life without understanding the artist. I am sure there are plenty of super fans of fashion houses and arts majors that are more well versed than me in this subject, so please feel free to CCW.
As a self-proclaimed fashion dumb-dumb that couldn’t you a name of an iconic handbag’s name half a year ago....honestly, why the f*ck am I buying these designer rep bags when I could’ve just easily and cheaply bought bag dupes from Aldo Accessories, Zara, H&M, or other fast fashion places? Aside from discussing authentic-relative-pricing, $200USD+ is quite a bit of money for a bag...and I just bought 3 rep Chanel bags! I need some understanding to justify my purchases here...
Ready with some snacks and do some time travelling? Let’s go back to late 1800s and take a look at the woman who would change our lives.
Welcome to 🅣🅗🅔 🅗🅞🅤🅢🅔 🅞🅕 🅒🅗🅐🅝🅔🅛 👧🏻 Madamoiselle Coco Chanel: “I decided who I wanted to be, and that is who I am.” Start from Nothing 👶🏻 Birth: 1883: Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel was born. However, her official last name is Chasnel because the person who wrote on her birth certificate misspelled it. Chanel’s mother passed away when she was 11 years old, and was sent to the orphanage in the convent of Aubazine where she learned to become a seamstress.
💃 Longed for the High Life: As she is still considered a juvenile, Chanel entertained crowds by singing and dancing in cabarets for sailors in local lounges. Allegedly, it was at this time that Gabrielle acquired the name ‘Coco’, when she spent her nights singing "Who Has Seen Coco?"
Mistress to a Boy and Becoming of a Fashion House 👒 Intro to the High Life as a Mistress: 1906: At the age of twenty-three, Chanel became Étienne Balsan’s second mistress. Balsan, an officer and also an heir to the family fortune of textile production and manufacturing of soldiers uniforms. Balsan lavished Chanel with the beauties of “the rich life”—diamonds, dresses, and pearls. Coco Chanel learned luxury and elegance with Balsan. Chanel moved into his chateau at Royallieu, northeast of Paris when he devoted himself to horse racing. She often ate with the servants while Etienne and his first mistress dined upstairs. She didn't care. She loved galloping on horseback through the forest as well as lounging on the terrace, scanning the racing results over breakfast and coffee. After pressing Etienne for his help in starting her clothing design business, he lent Chanel the ground floor of his bachelor flat on 160 Boulevard Malesherbes to sell straw hats she had purchased in a Paris department store and decorated with ribbons, feathers, and hatpins – quite unlike the straw hat style of the day worn tilted and with a birds' nest on it. When the first mistress wore one to the racetrack, Chanel's hats became a hit among the high circles.
⛵ See you in Deauville: 1913: Deauville was one of the most popular seaside locales of the French elites, where trends were set and people went to be seen. Chanel decided to open a boutique in Deauville and introduced a collection of sportswear.
👦 "Handsome, very tanned and attractive...he was magnificent. I fell in love with him. I had never loved." : 1909: While staying at the Chateau Balsan introduced her to Englishman, Captain Arthur Edward 'Boy' Capel (sounds familiar to a particular bag?). Capel and Chanel had an affair for nine years, and gave her inspirations of future pieces. During that time, Capel financed Chanel's first shop called Chanel Modes on 21 rue Cambon. He also introduced Chanel to artists, writers, politicians and sportsmen, and society ladies. He explained to her the rules of society and an upper-crust sense of style.
🌊 Take me to Biarritz: 1915: Chanel already made her name with the high circles, particularly in Deauville. As WWI arrives, the rich, the celebrities, and high ranking officials are escaping from the west coast of Normandie and the city of Paris to Biarritz. Biarritz is already a famous destination for sea swimming, the renowned society life at the Hôtel du Palais and cabarets. On days off, Capel would take Chanel there for a getaway, and that was were Chanel decided to set up her first couture house to introduce her house. She borrowed money from Capel and hired 60 women to work there. Chanel was so successful that she repaid Capel after a year in business.
👗 31 rue Cambon: 1918: As she quickly gain notoriety with her hats and swimwear, Chanel established her maison de couture by purchasing the entire building at 31 rue Cambon, one of the most fashionable districts of Paris. It was in this building that she invented the concept of the modern boutique that displays multiple items including fashion accessories and her first perfume (N°5) to wear with her garments and hats. Later, she added jewelry and beauty products.
🎭 Madamoiselle’s Rise and Fall (and a Spy?!) 💔 “Either I die as well or I finish what we started together”: 1918-1919: As much as Boy was in love with Chanel, he needed to marry well and chose Lady Diana Wyndham, a war widow. Boy still wanted Chanel to remain as his mistress, and so she did. Just as WWI tapered to an end, Chanel was given a devastating blow when Capel was killed in a car accident. A roadside memorial (allegedly commissioned by Chanel) was placed at the site of the accident, consisting of a cross bearing the inscription: "A la mémoire du capitaine Arthur Capel, légion d'Honneur de l'armée britannique, mort accidentellement en cet endroit le 22 décembre 1919."/“In memory of Captain Arthur Capel, Legion of Honor of the British army, who accidentally died there on December 22, 1919”. Even though Chanel had other men in her life since, she never loved someone as much as Capel. Chanel never married and hence was identified as “Mademoiselle”.
💄 From Russia, With Love: 1921: Enter Dimitri Pavlovich, the Grand Duke of Russia. Chanel and Pavlovich had a short stint affair that gave Chanel inspirations of costume jewelry and perfume. It was Pavlovich that introduced Chanel to Ernst Beaux, former perfumer to the Tsars, and co-creator of multiple blends, including the Chanel N°5 (so called and remains today because it was the 5th blend presented to Chanel and was the one that she ultimately chosen). The bottle design for Chanel N°5 had two probable origins, both attributable to her association with Capel. It is believed Chanel adapted the rectangular, beveled lines of the Charvet toiletry bottles he carried in his leather traveling case, or she adapted the design of the whiskey decanter Capel used.
💋 From Britain, With Love: 1925: Enter Hugh Grosvenor, the 2nd Duke of Westminster. Chanel became heavily influenced by how British aristocrats dressed, and learned the British customs of afternoon teas, outdoor sports, cold manor houses and dressing for the seasons from this Duke. He purchased a home for Chanel in London's prestigious Mayfair district, and in 1927 gave her a parcel of land on the French Riviera at Roquebrune-Cap-Martin where Chanel built her villa, La Pausa. His romantic liaison with Chanel lasted ten years. Westminster wanted an heir but, "God knows I wanted love. But the moment I had to choose between the man I loved and my dresses, I chose the dresses." Chanel stated. It was wearing Grosvenor tweed coats that inspired Chanel to use the tweed fabric for her suits in later years.
👛 Expanding her Empire: 1929: Chanel expanded up rue Cambon occupying five buildings (Numbers 23 to 31), and employing 4,000+ workers. At this time, Chanel created a bag with short chain straps and jersey quilted fabric for herself so that she has a free hand to smoke - revolutionary thoughts at that time. Chanel was rising to her apex. Unfortunately, good things had to come to an end...as WWII began.
⚔ Bad times during WWII! 1944-1945: Right before the start of WWII, Chanel began and kept a relationship with Baron Hans Günther von Dincklage (German lawyer and Nazi official who worked as a secret agent and special representative). As war continued and suspicion amplified, the House of Chanel was dwindled down from 5 boutiques to 1 boutique (31 rue Cambon), and sold only jewelry and perfumes. With her relationship with Dincklage and living in the Ritz in Paris where a lot of Germans occupied, Chanel was interrogated by les Forces francaises de l'interieur for collaborating with the enemy; and was arrested in September 1944, found guilty of treason and sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. She fled to Switzerland with Dincklage after release. When asked by Journalist Malcolm Muggeridge in later years as to which side she had been on in the war, Chanel replied, "Neither side, of course. Nobody has ever told Coco Chanel what to think." Allegedly, there are declassified documents of the French Secret Services which revealed Chanel was registered as a member of Abwher (an espionage German group).
💥Madamoiselle Rising like the Phoenix and Leaving a Legacy 🏠 Reinventing herself (waaay before Madonna did it): 1954-55: At the age of 72, after having her couture house closed for 15 years, Chanel felt the time was right for her to re-enter the fashion world. Chanel redesigned her iconic quilted chain-strap bag, releasing it in February 1955—hence its name, the Chanel 2.55. This bag caused a minor scandal for designing her a handbag that includes a shoulder strap. What a scandal! So improper! “I got fed up with holding my purses in my hands and losing them,” Chanel was quoted saying, “so I added a strap.” For the first time in fashion history, a woman’s handbag now had a chain shoulder strap on it. No longer did a woman have to hold her purse in her hands. Instead, she was free to sling it over her shoulders and use her hands however she pleased. This purse was thus, in a sense, empowers female in the male dominated landscape.
👜 Expanding her Empire...Across the Pond: 1960: As USA became the Superpower after WWII, the world turned parts of their attention USA for buying power. Chanel is no different. She sees the opportunity across the pond. The 60s marked one of the most tumultuous and divisive decades in USA--marked by the civil rights movement, the Vietnam War and antiwar protests, political assassinations and the emerging "generation gap." With women being part of the civil rights movement, appreciation and uptake for the House of Chanel grew with them, with the likes of Elizabeth Talyor, Jane Fonda, Jackie Kennedy, Grace Kelly, and Jeanne Moreau carrying and wearing the fashion pieces from Chanel.
🙏 “May my Legend prosper and thrive. I wish it a long and happy life!” : 1971: Chanel passed away at the age of 87 on Sunday, January 10th, at the Hotel Ritz in Paris--the only day of the week when she did not work. Coco Chanel’s designs were all about simplicity and functionality, but with a classic sense of style. Coco Chanel is buried in Lausanne, Switzerland. Her headstone was designed by the designer herself and features the emblematic lion. “Without stone above me, I would like to leave if I had the wish to go to Heaven and dress the angels”, she said.
🧓🏻 House of Chanel: Resurgence 🧓🏻 "For me, Chanel is like music. There are certain notes and you have to make another tune with them": 1983: After over a decade of Chanel's passing, the House of Chanel became lost when the leadership of the company was handed down to a few people, and then control was purchased by Jacques Wertheimer. By 1974 Alain Wertheimer, son of Jacques Wertheimer, assumed control of Chanel S.A. He reduce the accessibility and increased Chanel products' scarcity in the market. Wertheimer also launched celebrity endorsements with Marilyn Monroe, etc. to market Chanel brand. He then hired Karl Lagerfeld. Lagerfeld became the Artistic Director and designer of all ready-to-wear, haute couture, and accessories for the House of Chanel in 1983. Lagerfeld himself was adamant that he didn’t want to impose too much of his own personality on Chanel, rather aiming to update the ideas of founder Coco Chanel for a new audience, even if he still exerted his own influence in the translation.
👜 Classic never fades! 1984: Karl Lagerfeld redesigns the 2.55 with the new interlinking CC turn lock and woven leathechain straps -- and called it the Classic (aka Classic Flap/CF).
🔢 Let's count them: 1986: Serial numbers are introduced to all Chanel bags.
👜 Remember the good ol' Days: 2005: Karl Lagerfeld on behalf of House of Chanel releases the original 2.55 Quilted Handbag for its 50th Anniversary, and calls it the Reissue 2.55, with the same “Mademoiselle lock” and gold chain.
👜 Remember the Love: 2011: Karl Lagerfeld on behalf of House of Chanel releases the BOY handbag, that was built around the love affair of Coco Chanel and Boy Capel.
👜 Moving Forward: 2017: Karl Lagerfeld on behalf of House of Chanel releases the Gabrielle bag. Lagerfeld took a different route with the Gabrielle by instilling the bag with a unisex appeal. To prove its gender-neutral qualities, the designer enlisted Pharrell Williams to front the campaign.
👩🏻🦱 New Direction 👩🏻🦱 "I feel truthfulness and a realness will be leading me going forward": 2019: Karl Lagerfeld died on February 19 from pancreatic cancer. Virginie Viard became the Artistic Director for the House of Chanel. Viard worked with Lagerfeld for more than 30 years, starting at Chanel as an intern in haute-couture embroidery in 1987.
Coco Chanel’s Legacy: “Fashion Fades. Only Style Remains the Same.” 🤸🏻♀️Liberation of the Female Body: Chanel designed a new relaxed silhouette unlike the restrictive corseted fashions at that time and liberated women's bodies by not tightening at the waistline. She modeled her new line of beachwear that offered a relaxed silhouette – 'long and ample coats with great pockets'--- workmen-style pockets designed to free women from handbags.
👨🏻✈️ Masculine influence: Chanel herself would reportedly wear her lovers' clothes, because she believed menswear to be more comfortable than pre-war women’s fashion of the time. Chanel drew inspiration from her male lovers: From the British horse culture she learned tweed fabric and pants; From the yacht culture she was inspired to use the nautical spirits from the sailors; From the military culture, she was inspired to use buttons, chains, and tassels. The first handbag made by Chanel was inspired by the crossbody bags worn by soldiers in the field. Known for mixing traditional ideas of masculinity and femininity, Chanel brought the essence of both gender together in her designs.
🥼 The Jersey: Chanel's introduction of jersey to high-fashion worked well for two reasons: First, WWI had caused a shortage of other materials; and second, women began desiring simpler and more practical clothes. Her fluid jersey suits and dresses were created for practicality and allowed for free movement, allowing women who were working for the war effort as nurses, in civil service, in factories, and other physical activity to come and go as they wish without the help of servants.
👗 The little black dress: Who hasn’t heard of the term Little Black Dress (LBD)? Thank Chanel for revolutionizing women fashion once again. In 1926, Chanel challenged women fashion with a daringly simple dress that is intended to be long-lasting, versatile, affordable, accessible to the widest market possible and in a neutral colour. Its ubiquity is such that it is often simply referred to as the "LBD". The spare look generated widespread criticism from male journalists, who complained, "no more bosom, no more stomach, no more rump ... Feminine fashion of this moment in the 20th century will be baptized lop off everything."
🧥 The Tweed Jacket and Uniform: “The hardest part of my work is to enable women to move with ease, to not feel like they are in a costume. Not changing attitude, or manner, depending on their dress. It is very difficult as the human body is always moving.” , Chanel said. In 1925, Chanel introduced the original idea for the suit at a small show in her salon on Rue de Cambon in Paris. It wasn’t until 1954 when Chanel reimagined the jacket with tweed material that it became a legacy. Tweed was primarily manufactured in Scottish twill mills, where Chanel discovered the true diversity of the fabric by implementing new colors, materials, and textures. The slim skirt that stops at the knee and collarless jacket with straight lines inspired by menswear was dubbed “Chanel’s uniform”.
💍 Costume jewelry: aka, non-precious stones or materials accessory pieces. According to Chanel, the role of jewelry was to decorate an ensemble rather than to flaunt wealth. For that reason she challenged convention by wearing heaps of jewelry, “It’s disgusting to walk around with millions around the neck because one happens to be rich. I only like fake jewellery … because it’s provocative”, Chanel stated. In 1927, Coco introduced a line of jewellery that was a conceptual innovation, as her design and materials incorporated both simulated and fine gem stones. This was revolutionary in an era when jewellery was strictly categorized into either fine or costume jewellery.
💮 The Camelia: Chanel resonated with the heroine in La Dame aux Camélias (The Lady of the Camellias) since her youth. The flower was associated with the courtesan, who would wear a camellia to advertise her availability. The designer first used it in 1933 as a decorative element on a white-trimmed black suit, and has since been a symbol of the House of Chanel.
🦁 The Lion: All her life she kept a lion statue next to her cigarettes and scissors. Also, the lion can be seen engraved on the bottoms of her tweed suits.“I’m a Leo and like him I show my claws to protect myself “, she said “But believe me I suffer more by clawing than being clawed.”
👜 The handbag chain: The most popular and widely recognized chain has leather entwined with chain. Chanel's first bags had all-chain straps. As the legend goes, Chanel added leather ribbon into the strap in efforts to add style and durability while material was scarce during the war.
👠 The two tone shoes: In 1957, Chanel created the two-tone slingback shoe in beige and black. It created a highly graphic effect: the beige lengthened the leg while the black shortened the foot. In her words, "You leave in the morning wearing beige and black, you have lunch in beige and black, and you attend a cocktail party wearing beige and black. You're dressed for the entire day!" Chanel improved its comfort with the help of Massaro (which has remained Chanel's custom shoe brand to this day) by adding an elastic strap.
👛 The handbag backpocket: Coco had a love for the Mona Lisa and made the back pocket reminiscent of her subtle smile, which is said to be for loose change for tipping.
Epilogue: "You Live but Once; You Might as Well be Amusing" Whether you hate her or love her, I have gained appreciation for Madamoiselle Chanel through this journey. Sure, she had her own scandals in her life, but the French style icon redefined women’s fashion by offering a casual yet chic alternative to the restrictive attire of the early 20th century. Chanel’s humbled beginnings definitely affected the way she perceived her own careers and opportunities. For Chanel, women’s lives and bodies were meant to fulfill ambitions, where they should not be expected to wear corsets and body-shackling garments that hinders their trajectory. That's something to admire, isn't it?
Appendix Although they have scents of propaganda, I find the Youtube series and Podcasts made by House of Chanel interesting and gave me a good understanding of Chanel herself and the ever evolving House of Chanel. There are 28 chapters so far:
“For the First time – Inside Chanel” Series:
|Chapter 1: CHANEL N°5||Chapter 2: Marilyn and N°5||Chapter 3: Chanel and the Diamond|
|Chapter 4: The Jacket||Chapter 5: Coco||Chapter 6: Mademoiselle|
|Chapter 7: Gabrielle Chanel||Chapter 8: Coco and Karl||Chapter 9: CHANEL by Karl|
|Chapter 10: The Lion||Chapter 11: The Colors||Chapter 12: Paris by Chanel|
|Chapter 13: Haute Couture||Chapter 14: The Vocabulary of Fashion||Chapter 15: The Self-Portrait of a Perfume|
|Chapter 16: The Camelia||Chapter 17: The Paradoxes of Chanel||Chapter 18: Gabrielle, A Rebel at Heart|
|Chapter 19: The Time of CHANEL||Chapter 20: Gabrielle, the Quest for Freedom||Chapter 21: Gabrielle, the Pursuit of Passion|
|Chapter 22: Deauville||Chapter 23: Biarritz||Chapter 24: Venice|
|Chapter 25: Gabrielle Goes West||Chapter 26: Masculine as her Muse||Chapter 27: Gabrielle Chanel and the Arts|
|Chapter 28: Gabrielle Chanel and Cinema|
2020.06.26 07:27 thetips43 Spy cam tanning
| Dễ hòa tan trong nước, khả năng đánh bay vết bẩn vượt trội, quần áo có mùi thơm dễ chịu và không bị bám cặn bột giặt... Những ưu điểm này khiến cho nước giặt trở thành sản phẩm giặt tẩy "quốc dân" của các chị em nội trợ. Thế nhưng, loại nước giặt nào thơm lâu, giúp sạch sâu bên trong từng sợi vải nhưng không làm quần áo phai màu... Trong bài viết này, Cleanipedia sẽ gửi đến bạn 15 dung dịch giặt tẩy “hot” nhất trên thị trường hiện nay.|
15 loại nước giặt tốt
1. Nước giặt OMO Thương hiệu OMO từ lâu đã quá quen thuộc với các chị em nội trợ trên thế giới. Nước giặt Omo Matic thế hệ mới có thể đánh bay những vết bẩn cứng đầu nhất như dầu nhớt một cách nhanh chóng và hiệu quả.
Ngoài ra, với màng chắn kháng bẩn polyshield, sản phẩm còn giúp quần áo không bị mốc và sạch vi khuẩn. Sản phẩm có thể phù hợp để giặt tay, cho máy giặt cửa trên, máy giặt cửa ngang...
Hơn nữa, hương thơm nồng nàn, ngất ngây từ các sản phẩm của OMO còn giúp quần áo giữ được hương thơm bền lâu. Không gây kích ứng da, an toàn cho làn da và sức khỏe người tiêu dùng... - những ưu điểm này của Omo Matic chính là nguyên nhân khiến cho sản phẩm này luôn nhận được nhiều đánh giá tích cực từ người dùng.
2. Nước giặt Aba Nước giặt Aba cũng là một sản phẩm có sức mạnh giặt tẩy nổi trội, kháng khuẩn cao. Cơ chế hoạt động trong thành phần Aba giúp tách các phân tử dầu nhớt, mỡ, cà phê, bánh trái... ra khỏi các sợi vải. Do đó, bạn chỉ cần một lượng nhỏ là bạn có thể làm sạch một lượng lớn quần áo rồi đấy.
Bên cạnh đó, mùi hương của Aba cũng rất dễ chịu và không gây kích ứng cho người dùng.
3. Nước giặt Surf Nước giặt Surf dù mới ra mắt thị trường nhưng đã nhanh chóng được người tiêu dùng đón nhận nồng nhiệt. Sản phẩm có dạng gel màu hồng đậm đặc. Các thành phần hoạt tính có trong Surf giúp mang lại cho sản phẩm khả năng đánh bay vết bẩn nhanh chóng, dùng được cho cả giặt tay và giặt máy. Surf cũng có loại can nhựa và túi với nhiều dung tích khác nhau rất thuận tiện cho người tiêu dùng lựa chọn.
Mùi hương cỏ hoa diệu kỳ của Surf thơm mát gấp hai lần sao với bột giặt thông thường. Từ đó, giúp cho quần áo giữ được hương thơm bền lâu sau khi giặt.
4. Nước giặt Comfort Nước giặt Comfort 5in1 , chống lão hóa, có công thức cải tiến vượt trội. Ngoài khả năng làm sạch vết bẩn sâu bên trong, sản phẩm còn giúp ngăn ngừa các dấu hiệu "lão hóa" như: chống phai màu, ố vàng, xù lông, thô cứng... Qua đó, giúp cho quần áo không phai màu, bền lâu. Mùi hương thanh lịch và thời thượng cũng tạo nên nét độc đáo, riêng biệt của sản phẩm.
Ngoài ra, sản phẩm còn dễ hòa trong nước, ít bọt nên rất thích hợp để dùng cho máy giặt. Theo đó, máy giặt nhà bạn cũng sẽ không bị bám cặn bẩn, ảnh hưởng đến "tuổi thọ" thiết bị.
Đặc biệt, còn có sản phẩm chuyên dùng cho da em nhạy cảm em bé. Nhờ đó, giúp bé yêu nhà bạn luôn có những trải nghiệm an toàn, thoải mái... trong những năm tháng đầu đời.
5. Nước giặt Dnee Nước giặt Dnee là một sản phẩm đến từ Thái Lan được khuyên dùng cho việc làm sạch quần áo trẻ sơ sinh và trẻ nhỏ. Dnee có khả năng làm sạch quần áo rất tốt mà không hề gây hại đến màu sắc cũng như chất liệu của vải.
Thêm vào đó, mùi thơm dung dịch giặt đồ Dnee lưu lại trên vải khá dễ chịu. Các thành phần lành tính không gây hại cho da của bạn và cả bé yêu.
6. Nước giặt cho bé Kodomo Nước giặt Kodomo có xuất xứ từ Nhật, dành riêng cho quần áo trẻ sơ sinh và trẻ nhỏ. Dung dịch giặt tẩy này có các thành phần được chọn lọc rất kỹ, không gây kích ứng cho da.
Sản phẩm dễ dàng giặt sạch và không bám cặn trên quần áo, hương thơm dịu nhẹ sẽ là điều mà mẹ và bé đều thích đúng không nào?
7. Nước giặt Essence Thêm một sản phẩm từ Thái Lan với độ pH trung tính, giúp đánh bay vết bẩn nhanh chóng. Sản phẩm dịu nhẹ nên sẽ nhanh chóng xả trôi bọt xà phòng, không để lại độ nhớt dính trên da và quần áo. Một đặc điểm của dung dịch giặt tẩy Essence là khả năng chống tia UV, giúp quần áo bền màu hơn.
8. Nước giặt Maxkleen Đây là một thương hiệu đến từ Malaysia. Nước giặt Maxkleen với công nghệ Ultra kép, tích hợp khả năng giặt & xả 2 trong 1. Vì thế, bạn không cần dùng nước xả để giúp quần áo được thơm tho. Từ đó, mang lại sự tiện lợi, nhanh chóng và giúp chị em tiết kiệm chi phí.
Maxkleen có hai mùi hương cơ bản: hương nước hoa huyền diệu và hương hoa nắng. Với hương thơm tự nhiên ngọt mát này chắc chắn sẽ mang lại sự thoải mái cho người sử dụng.
9. Nước giặt Attack Nước giặt Attack có khả năng giặt sạch vết bẩn trong lần giặt đầu tiên. Qua đó, chúng giúp sợi vải trắng sáng, mềm mịn và lưu lại hương thơm đa dạng trên quần áo.
Đây là thương hiệu nước giặt Nhật Bản. "Vườn hoa thơm ngát" cũng được tích hợp trong sản phẩm này, giúp bạn luôn thơm mát suốt cả ngày. Hiện Downy có nhiều loại hương khác nhau để bạn lựa chọn như là: mùi hoa oải hương, hoa anh đào, ngăn mùi mồ hôi.
10. Nước giặt Lix Bắt đầu từ bột giặt, Lix đã cho ra đời dung dịch giặt với công nghệ tiên tiến và công thức giặt tẩy hiện đại. Sản phẩm với tinh chất giặt tẩy đậm đặc, có thể tẩy sạch vết bẩn và bụi bám trên quần áo dễ dàng. Thế nhưng, chúng không hề gây hại và bào mòn sợi vải.
Nước giặt Lix cũng được nhà sản xuất cam kết có thành phần an toàn cho sức khỏe người tiêu dùng. Qua đó, sản phẩm sẽ không gây kích ứng hay ngứa ngáy trên da. Mùi hương nước hoa đặc trưng từ sản phẩm cũng giúp giữ mùi hương lâu phai trên quần áo.
11. Nước giặt Fineline Đây là một trong những loại nước giặt Thái được các chị em nội trợ Việt yêu chuộng nhất hiện nay. Fineline cũng có chức năng 2 trong 1 là giặt và xả. Fineline có nhiều loại mùi hương khác nhau là: hương hoa violet, hương hoa anh đào Sakura, hương hoa lily... Dung dịch giặt tẩy này cũng có màu trắng trong nên hạn chế tình trạng quần áo bị ố vàng và bị cặn bám bẩn.
12. Nước giặt Spy Là một thương hiệu đến từ Thái Lan, nước giặt Spy có hiệu quả làm sạch tương đối cao. Sản phẩm có tinh chất mùi hương được điều chế từ các loại cỏ cây, hoa lá tự nhiên. Do đó, Spy không gây kích ứng da. Đây cũng là thương hiệu đề cao khả năng kháng khuẩn, giúp diệt sạch mùi mồ hôi trên quần áo...
13. Nước giặt Lord Được sản xuất với công nghệ tiên tiến, nước giặt Lord chứa 5 hợp chất tẩy siêu mạnh, giúp đánh bay các vết bẩn cứng đầu. Tuy nhiên, vẫn giữ được sự mềm mại, cùng hương thơm nhẹ nhàng cho quần áo. Sản phẩm cũng được chứng nhận đạt tiêu chuẩn chất lượng ISO 9001:2008.
14. Nước giặt Carefor Carefor được sản xuất trên dây chuyền hiện đại của Thái Lan. Đây cũng là sản phẩm có 2 chức năng giặt và xả. Sản phẩm có các ưu điểm nổi trội như: đánh bật các vết bẩn bám trên quần áo; ngăn chặn nấm mốc xuất hiện trên sợi vải; độ PH trung tính, giúp da tay không bị khô...
15. Nước giặt cho bé Arau Arau là thương hiệu nước giặt cho bé đến từ Nhật là sự lựa chọn thông minh của các mẹ bỉm sữa. Sản phẩm có nguyên liệu 100% từ thiên nhiên và không chứa chất phụ gia tổng hợp.
Khả năng giặt tẩy tốt, sợi vải bền màu, không bị thô ráp, mùi hương cao cấp nhẹ nhàng... Arau là sản phẩm an toàn cho làn da nhạy cảm của em bé.
Trên đây là những loại nước giặt giá rẻ được ưa chuộng nhất trên thị trường Việt Nam. Những sản phẩm này cũng có thể dùng được cho cả giặt tay máy giặt. Bạn thích loại nào nhất? Hãy chọn lựa sản phẩm phù hợp từ gợi ý của Cleanipedia nhé!
Nguồn tham khảo:
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2020.06.14 15:20 Arcus_Chambers Spy tanning cam
As expected from the day Ferdinand Militar's gamble failed Letter's to Jose Lava. Militar expected that the rebellion would ensue soon and that peace is never an option as the government will be the first to fire the shot and soon launch operations and offensives against the remaining Huk factions and the United Socialist Liberation Front.
The "Peace" that Militar had taken bought them enough time to train, plan, and prepare defensive and counter-offensive operations in case of a government assault against the United Socialist Liberation Front and the remaining Huk factions seeing as the talks between him and Jose Lava had broken down, intentions were finally clear. The People's Armed Liberation Forces conducted war games mostly on Guerrilla Warfare, Ambushes, and Hit and Run Tactics in the Jungles and Mountains. While the Ministry of National State Security trained and learned Psychological Warfare, Reconnaissance, Information Gathering, Sabotage, Counter-Intelligence and Infiltration Tactics among other things all trained by former Constabulary Intelligence Officer, Conrado V. Ortilano and sometimes by Ferdinand T. Militar himself, they also trained by former Constabulary Intelligence and Interior Protection Agency Officers that defected to the United Socialist Liberation Front.
However by this time the remaining Huk forces that didn't join the United Socialist Liberation Front (USLF) knew if the they were and the revolution to survive and have strong fighting chance, they would to put their differences aside and work together. On February 12th 1948 a large amount of Huk Forces and territory now swear their oath and allegiance to the United Socialist Liberation Front (USLF) gradually solidifying the power and influence on Central Luzon except for a few remaining Huk factions that refused to join but formed an alliance among the other factions and the USLF.
Although the Zambales Offensive had inflicted moderate casualties on the PALF, PAMF, but most especially SSDC which all units retreated and evacuated every citizen they can further into USLF territory. A small portion of Zambales was only controlled by the United Socialist Liberation Front, the one who was mostly in control in Zambales and the mountains were one of the major break away factions of the Huks called the Proletarian Revolutionary Army (PRA).
The PRA were notorious for their aggressiveness, especially from their corrupt and power hungry leader Leoncio S. Tan who does have a bit of knowledge on military warfare and military science. The PRA was known for being one of the strongest insurgent factions in Central Luzon, only second to the USLF and PALF due to their numbers of armed guerrilla units. It is rumored that their guerrilla units have an estimated number 4000+ strong. With their Headquarters and territories now under attack the USLF has given sanctuary to the leaders of the PRA while PRA forces still operate at Zambales and now conducting operations and offensives in Southern Luzon and especially in Zamabales and Sierra Madre.
Dubbed "The Luzon Offensive", is a set of operations done by People's Armed Liberation Forces in act of defense, counter-assault, and assault against government forces and against the government itself. Here are the following that were recently conducted:
Operation Iron Fortress' main goal and mission is to fortify, secure and possibly deter government forces from advancing further into the territories of the United Socialist Liberation Front (USLF). Tactics used in this operations are, trenches or fortified places in strategic locations within the Jungle, Mountains, the Borders of the United Socialist Liberation Front, as well as the towns and barrios.
Making the terrain, specifically roads impossible for tracked vehicles, other armored vehicles, and difficult for wheeled vehicles mainly large convoys of sorts from government forces to deter, halt, and slow their advance and operations further and towards USLF territory. Traps laid by the Guerrilla will also be set in the roads, jungles and mountains constantly to instill fear, paranoia, low-morale, operation effectiveness and among many more effects.
Coined after a Bible verse. Operation 10:1-20 main goal is to constantly harass government forces in large quantities of squads and platoons that will spread out across Northern, Central, and Southern Luzon using Psychological Warfare, Hit and Run, and Ambush Tactics. This will effectively deteriorate support, logistics, reinforcements, and operation effectiveness of the Armed Forces. Just like Operation Iron Fortress, the People's Armed Liberation Force (PALF) will lay traps in their operations to deter troops to enter into jungles and mountains. This operation will not only harass convoys and overall armed forces activities but also harass government bases and camps to also create fear, paranoia, low-morale, operation effectiveness and among many more effects just like the traps laid by the guerrilla forces.
This Operation uses the "Posing as Enemy Forces" Doctrine" of the People's Armed Liberation Front mostly conducted, trained, and taught by Conrado V. Ortilano and the Ministry of National State Security. Highly-risky infiltration operations were conducted to penetrate enemy strongholds, learn more about the adversary’s behavior, attack specific units, and confuse the Armed Forces of the Philippines. The strict restrictions placed on joining an infiltration team posing as AFP soldiers was so rigorous so that operations may highly succeed, and during the "peace" time between the government and USLF the PALF and MNSS had time to train properly. This technique is to instill confusion, miscommunication, sabotage, and distrust among the AFP as well as fear, paranoia, combat and operations effectiveness and etc. In hopes to create paranoia, fear, over-caution and also in hopes that AFP units would begin to distrust and maybe even attack each other due to their suspicion that the other units could be PALF in disguise.
The Tactic used in the "Lure and Reel" doctrine with methods ranging from highly-coordinated to very simple deception techniques, the action was taken purposely to cause the enemy to respond in a specific manner, this is also. At times PALF would send a squad but mostly an individual from the MNSS to infiltrate the AFP and conduct reconnaissance, information gathering, and assassination of high value targets within the AFP garrisoned in their base of operations or taken territories. But the main tactics used in this doctrine is the element of surprise. During a breach or a successful offensive of the AFP on USLF and PALF territories, bases, towns and barrios units would depart the area, in which will cause the AFP that they have achieved victory and gain new grounds against the USLF. But little did they know the PALF hadn't stopped their operations or fully retreated but instead return to that area under the cover of darkness approximately to surprise their adversaries and of course the standard fear, paranoia, degrading their readiness posture and increasing their operational tempo giving them fatigue among other effects, etc still the same effects among the other psychological warfare operations
With the start of the government offensives, clandestine operations by the government are bound to happen. However in an attempt to spot infiltrators, spies, and many more. The USLF and PALF have overhauled, reformed, and completely changed the Huk speech, songs, customs and mannerisms that were originally in place as well as questions that only PALF soldiers and USLF citizens would know.
Psychological Warfare and Clandestine Training of MNSS and PALF
During the peace which lasted for about a month and a half. Like all of branches of the People's Armed Liberation Force. Information was vital to the MNSS' success. Thus , after being selectively screened for entry into the MNSS members underwent a one-month training program designed to enable them to infiltrate, sabotage, reconnaissance, among other clandestine operations. Ex-AFP, Constabulary, and IPA soldiers and officers mostly among them being Conrado Ortilano and Ferdinand Militar taught the MNSS and the PALF as well military customs, and mannerisms. Members carried items found on dead and locally manufactured copies of AFP, Constabulary, and IPA uniforms, weapons, pictures of loved ones, patches, and indoctrination materials. MNSS usually operate in 5 to 10 squads, individually.
1st Commando Regiment
The 1st Commando Regiment is one of the "Special Forces" unit in the People's Armed Liberation Force. They're hardened veterans and experienced fighters of the People's Armed Liberation Force but mostly Guerrillas from the Japanese Rebellion in the Philippines during the Second World War. They specialize in Jungle and Mountainous Warfare as well as Raiding and Sabotage Operations, Tracking, Regular and Special Reconnaissance, and Unconventional Warfare. Most of the officers, commanders, and generals of the PALF were former AFP and Constabulary officers and soldiers as well as Guerrilla Fighters from the Japanese Rebellion.
Light Special Action Battalion
A special forces unit mostly on Special Operations was formed and trained by the Ministry of National State Security and the 1st Commando Regiment. Mostly specialized for Assassination, High Value Target Operations, Jungle and Mountainous Warfare support, Asymmetric warfare, among other clandestine and guerrilla operations the MNSS and Commando Regiment can teach. The Light Special Action Battalion is notorious and known for it's sharpshooters and assassination capability, the LSAB is also deployed as snipers in the frontlines. The Light Special Action Battalion is part of and operated by the Ministry of National State Security.
1st Carballiero Battalion
The 1st Carballiero Battalion was formed shortly after the formation of the People's Armed Liberation Force (PALF), it was the idea of former Corporal Basilio Jimenez that defected with Ferdinand Militar who was part of a Mechanized Infantry unit. Originally named 1st Caballiera Squadron (1st Calvary Squadron) in which Jimenez and his men acquired horses from either purchases with the locals in central and territories within the Hukbalahap and the occasional looting of abandoned towns, barrios, and stables due to conflict. As well as plundering outside and at times within of Central Luzon.
Ferdinand Militar reformed and reorganized the 1st Caballiera Squadron into the 1st Carballiero Battlion since cavalry warfare is at a disadvantage in a very mountainous and jungle terrain, Militar instead used the horses as logistics transport, rapid deployment, and many more. Soon after the Squandron became a battalion since the Caballiera began to use acquire and purchase Carabaos (National Philippine Animal) thus finally being designated as the 1st Carballieros Battalion.
The term Carballieros cam from a mix of three words Carabao which is the national animal and added asset, Caballiera which is Spanish for Cavalry, and finally Caballero which is Spanish for Cavalier. Carabao - Caballiera - Caballero. Carabaos were most used for Logistics and Transport due to them being slow but strong and the Horses as Rapid Deployment, Patrols and Border Patrols, and Messages and Intel among other operations. Horses are at times being borrowed from the Carballieros or even purchased by different branches of the PALF for their own use.
Munitions and Uniforms Manufacturing
Munitions are manufactured by small or big shops within the Local Governments and territory of the United Socialist Liberation Front. They are usually found in towns and at times barrios, these munitions shops cannot directly manufacture rifles due to them being costly and costly to resource. These munition shops are capable of manufacturing pistol, rifle, and machine gun ammo as well as repairs to the firearms used by the PALF. The quality of the munitions may vary due to the lack of experience and professional equipment and facilities present in these munitions shop to be capable of manufacturing good quality munitions.
Demolition and Improvise Explosive Device experts will produce improvised explosives deep in the jungles and mountains which is one of the highly prioritized projects of the People's Armed Liberation Force (PALF).
Tailors and Dress makers of the United Socialist Liberation Front have been tasked to make detailed uniforms and patches from the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Specifically uniforms and patches from the Philippine Army, Constabulary, and Interior Protection Agency that Ferdinand Militar, Conrado Ortilano had brought with them as well as from dead enemy soldiers.
Locally made equipment
Lantaka is a traditional Artillery of the Philippines that was also widely used during the Philippine Revolution and Philippine American War. Lantakas were so expensive and resource heavy that only a small amount of units were made by the locals.
Wooden Cannons were later manufactured since the cease of production on Lantakas. Wooden Cannons were also prominent during the Philippine-American War by the Philippine Army. Only a limited amount of wooden cannons were built.
These cannons the Lantakas and Wooden will be place at strategic points in the terrain and towns and pointed at the direction on where the enemy is expected. Cannon rounds were also used from the regular ones to the, Canister and Grapeshot. Canister and Grapeshot rounds' quality may differ due to the lack of experience by local manufacturers.
Mobile Artillery Support Unit (MASU)
The MASUs' where mini-lantakas made out of bamboos carried by the guerrillas for ambush and defense (Examples, Here. The MASU was made for close combat and were usually made for Anti-Personnel purposes and has been made to act like an actual cannon which operates in gunpowder. MASUs were difficult to reload due to it's mechanism and smaller than an actual cannon and were slightly larger than local Lantakas. MASU's mostly fired Canister shots out of cans filled with stones and regular rounds out of stones sculpted in round shapes to fit the cannons but some rounds are made out of extra scraps of metal unfit for quality manufacturing. These are still locally known as Lantakas but the term Mobile Artillery Support Units were coined by Major John Armorsolo of the PALF.
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2020.03.11 09:55 skcpthsu Tanning spy cam
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2020.02.15 21:36 NaiveChampion1 Spy cam tanning
Logline: A terrorist group in Lebanon are using illicit diamonds to fund their wars
Int Enter a small room-Day
My brother you know I have been waiting for this a long time
Zayat has left on a boat this morning
His wife and children?
They left yesterday
Imam gives pastor a worried look
Now we cannot try him in court
Isn’t it better he is no longer in the country?
He will be back
Karamoh you worry too much. Our congregation will finally return
If he comes back,I’ll have five bullets in my sole waiting for him
Imam pulls out a gun from his leg
My son is graduating tomorrow. I’ll have to go to Kenema
How’s your boy?
He.. is adjusting to quranic lessons
The boy just needs time
At his age I was leading prayers for the boys
Pastor: And you would be the first to come to school every morning
And the wife?
Send Musa to my school. He will learn to become an upright boy and stay out of trouble
A Muslim going to a catholic school. Only in Sierra Leone
Our religious tolerance is the best
I want him to become an engineer
I will make sure he is the best mathematician
Int Enter Musa.He runs into the living room after being caught smoking marijuana
Papa I’m sorry
Musa you put that haram thing in your mouth!
Papa I only tried it one time
Do you want to become like them?
I will send you out there before you bring shame to my family
Imam raises a big cane and bludgeons Musa
Next time I’ll kill you with my bare hands
Wife(cries on top Musa)
Ext Enter Musa with bandage on his head
I want you to come with me to Kenema
I don’t like the village
Kenema is a town. besides you want to stay here and run wayward?
(shakes his head)
You’re coming with me in the morning
Int Enter Pastor, Imam and Zayat
Zayat. Zayat pays Imam an unexpected visit in his chambers
You think you can run me out of this country?
You’re not ashamed of all that blood on your hands(spits)
Soon your blood will be on my hands
You told me this man was gone. You planned this
I had no option. My school needs expansion and he was willing to help
What do you want from me
Tell your congregation to join the rebels
I can never do that. I am responsible for all those lives
Never waste my time
Imam pulls gun from his leg and Musa peeps through the door
Don’t do this
If I don’t do it now the war will never end
Zayat pulls out his gun and points it at Imam
What was that thing you said?
five bullets in my…
Zayat fires gun,Imam drops dead, Musa runs away
Let’s get out of here
Ext Enter scene Zayat and pastor.Zayat’s Mansion-Day
Falafel, Zatar and kebe
No thank you I don’t eat Lebanese food
But you like Lebanese money
Yes I do
Zayat passes envelope to pastor
Any sight of the boy?
We have looked all over the area. He probably ran away to Waterloo
let’s not worry.My boys will find him
Hayete can we go to Dubai for the summer?
Call Skoros and have him arrange a jet. I don’t want you to be here
Zayat sips on his special blend wine and pastor leaves. Zayat picks up phone call from his counterpart in Lebanon
The forces are getting bigger. We need more money
My miners are working hard to find the biggest stones
The elections are coming hastily
We will win for the cause
They call us terrorists but hezbollah is unified now more than ever.
That’s great news. We will send the wire tomorrow
Thank you brother. When I die make me a martyr
Zayat quickly hangs up the phone
Zayat:How many minutes?
Zayat’s wife: The call was less than five
Zayat:Good. I hate these CIA spies tapping all our calls
Zayat’s wife: Don’t worry hayete. I’ll make it up to you tonight
Zayat’s wife beckons a young beautiful girl to come in and sit on her husband’s lap while she rubs his back
Ext Musa has run away from home and is now living on the streets selling pure water for survival
Cold wata dae! Cold wata dae!
Small bobo pass komot nia me shop
Musa moves to another shop
Cold wata dae! Cold wata dae
Rebels drive into the middle of the marketplace and park their truck hurling insults at frightened passerby’s
We dae fuck dem Bastard pikin
Cold wata dae! Cold wata dae
You! Cam na ya. You wan join we? We need small boys like you to fight for us
Please na cold wata nomo ar dae sell
Me bobo tan lek you. E Sabi hold gun
Watin na you name?
Den call me cock and fire
How old you be?
Cock and fire
You able gee belle! You na man
Second rebel jumps down from the truck
Rebel 2 snatches MUSA’s tray of water and throws it on ground
Bra commando has called. We have to report back to base
Cock and Fire
Ar lek you. You remind me of myself when I was a lad.
Bra you wan make we take am
Cock and Fire
He is too skinny. He can’t fight
The rebels burst into laughter
Musa looks down at his wet pants.
Passerby’s look at them scared
Cock and fire
This is my area boy.I run this town. Tell everyone you meet Cock and fire is in town.
Rebels zoom off leaving dust trails
Musa picks the water that has not yet been burst from the ground
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2020.02.03 15:54 colie_o All Sapiens Go To Heaven: Part 31
In Which Tom Has a Hell of a Time, But None Of It Fun
Fire and electricity.
Something was burning. Him, his nerves. Whenever a synapse tried to speak, it screamed, sending waves of nausea through him. Opening his eyes (did he even have them anymore?) was impossible. Only darkness greeted him.
His mouth was dry. There was no need for food in the afterlife, but never had he been filled with such need for something cold to drink.
He felt like he was moving, spinning, spiraling, falling. But even as his body jolted to right itself, he knew he was held fast in place. There was no movement, only disorientation. And he couldn't seem to shake it from his mind.
All he knew was pain.
So this was what it meant when the writers and poets of the world talked about being 'driven mad' by pain.
The darkness finally began to lift on the fiftieth (millionth?) attempt. Grey veined into the black, brightening the emptiness behind his lids. Then grey became pale off-white, until finally he had enough strength to open his eyes fully.
He was elevated. Taller than he remembered. But the world was on its side. The hallway moving past him at a slow stomping pace. Arms cradled him, but he couldn't move. Something bound his wrists and legs. He turned his head to set right the hallway, then craned to look backwards, only to meet the eyes of a Droopey clone.
It was staring straight ahead, carrying him in its arms.
He inhaled a breath, confused. Pain lanced through his side. He winced, hands (both since one was forced to follow the other) reaching for the spot. He felt something cold and damp, pulled his hands away as quickly as he'd unthinkingly put them there. They were coated in blood. Thick and sticky. Drying.
“Shit.” He huffed, trying to clear the residual fog from his mind. It was stubbornly clinging.
He looked at the Droopey clone again. No trident. Not if he was carrying him. Was there another? One who'd stabbed him?
It didn't make sense. Why would this bot target him? Had he missed something in the coding when he'd made them blind to the bot's recognition?
No sense, no sense.
God, but his fucking side hurt.
Had Twixt felt like this when Swek had wounded her? He had a new respect for her strength. Cause this felt downright terrible. Dying hadn't even felt this bad.
Though he supposed he couldn't really know for sure since his memory of his death had been mercifully withheld from his memory until a later time in which he could recall it with disassociation from the pain.
He needed to get down out of the clone's arms. But any movement just sent ripples of hot, fresh pain through him. The blood might have been drying, but he doubted he'd miraculously healed. It would flow again if he wasn't careful. True Death wasn't a concern (thanks to the information Twinkle had found in the journals) but pain clouded the mind. Preluded mistakes. Left you vulnerable.
Can't get more vulnerable than being carried like a swooning maiden by her knight.
“The Tom awakes,” a tiny voice said from somewhere down below his field of view.
“Hello?” he asked, trying to at least shift enough he could find the source of the voice.
He needn’t have bothered. Something with wings flew into his field of vision, perching on his thigh, making it sing with new pain. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his eyes from crossing and rolling back into his head. Grey threatened the edges of his eyes, making it difficult to see who was speaking to him.
“You are somewhat less than what I envisioned,” the little voice continued. It sounded almost comical, like a Disney character's voice - high pitched and distant, almost effeminate.
“I aim to disappoint,” he said, head lolling. He snapped it back up and cursed as his brain hit the inside of his skull, shooting stars across his vision. Who was this little guy? One of Swek's men?
But surely they all knew what he looked like.
“He told me you were over full of snark.”
“Swek?” His eyes were starting to focus again, the pain receding behind the wall of disassociation. If he pushed, he could contain the hurt to his lower half. It just took a ton of concentration.
The creature, using his leg as a branch upon which to take a rest, was only about a foot and a half tall. The wings were similar to a bat's and It used them to balance against the jostling stomp of the Droopey Clone who carried them. The rest of Its features were simple, almost lacking in any real distinction. It's skin was hairless, a pale tan that revealed nothing of Its veins beneath (if there were any to be had), and It had wide set eyes, pupils a lavender that looked like fabric left in the sun for too long. But while they were faded and lacking vibrancy, they were sharp with intellect.
“Ever the colorful profaner,” It replied.
Somehow Tom thought Swek would enjoy the idea this little flying creature thought his name was a swear word. But it also told him that the thorn in his side hadn't sent this guy.
So, who had?
“You were woefully easy to take down, I must admit. He gave me the impression you might prove...a challenge.” The creature eyed him, hairless brow raising.
“What can I say? You caught me on an off day.” Eva was never going to let him hear the end of this. And he could just picture the knowing look Felicia would give him, her arms folded across her barrel chest with all the surety of one who'd been right.
How long before they knew he was missing?
And how would they find him?
“I've never seen a human cause such a stir. I'd almost think he was afraid of you, but he doesn't know the meaning of the word. That's for us lesser beings to struggle with.” It leaned in, sniffing at the bloody wound on his side. “Even in death, the blood of humans is rank with failure.”
“Much as I'd like to talk about my shortcomings as a human, I'd much rather know where you're taking me.” Tom tried to pull away from the weird, sniffing little bat-thing, but there wasn't much space in the clone's arms to really put distance between them. The act of smelling his wound was too familiar and something snapped in place at the same time the creature pulled away, tilting Its head to one side.
“I can see you working it out. I guess you're not as dumb as I first thought.” A smile spread across Its thin lips, revealing blunt, almost human like teeth. It was a terrible thing to behold. Made all the worse when a thick grey tongue tasted the air like a snake.
“God sent you?” Pain was going to be the least of his problems if he didn't get away.
“Who else? You don't use a hammer to squash a bug when a shoe will do.”
“And you're the shoe?” Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Where was his tablet? Did he even still have it?
“Don't worry, I'm an excellent shoe. You'll only feel what I want you to feel.” To emphasis Its words, It extended a wing, bringing the tip of one claw to a hover over Tom's bloody torso. Then It pressed down, making him howl. “The problem for you is, I want you to feel it all.”
Then It flapped Its wings and fell from sight, a strange cackle shaking vibrating from Its throat. It was laughing at him.
He spent the better part of the next ten minutes trying to get himself into an upright position. But, cradled, bound, and wounded as he was in the massive arms of the Droopey clone, he made no progress. Panic made his heart beat rapidly, which meant blood leaked out of him in a trickle of warmth each time his chest heaved. Even in death, humans healed slowly it seemed.
Could he reason with the creature leading him towards his doom? The Satans had been easier thanks to fear and a removal from their higher ups that had stretched loyalty thin. How could you feel commitment towards a being you’d never seen, only knew through legend and an innate sense of dread?
Tom got the feeling there wouldn’t be any such things working for him this time.
Reasoning was out.
From the creature’s earlier delight at the idea of being the shoe to “squash” him, Tom got the distinct feeling pleading for his life would only give the bastard pleasure.
Begging was out.
Which left, escape. And to do that, he first had to get out of this damn “princess” hold the robot had him in.
Already his back was aching from the compressed curve. Droopey didn’t care much for his comfort so he was essentially unsupported along his spine. But it was nothing compared to the insistent throb of his side. He wished he could see what kind of damage he was dealing with; was it a puncture wound, a cut? How deep did it go?
It felt like it went right through him. A hole to another dimension and that dimension was Agony.
Given the bots didn’t need to “sleep”, they might not stop till they were wherever they were headed. Heaven?
That seemed unlikely. Tom didn’t know much about warfare tactic, but he felt at the very least you didn’t take your enemy directly into your stronghold unless you could be certain they weren’t going to be a problem.
He suddenly thought of Cher and her story of rebellion. The way the leader of that attempt (what had his name been?) had disappeared. Originally, he’d thought the remains of anyone Hell deemed too dangerous were in the scarab pit just outside Satan’s quarters.
That they were given a truer death.
But that wasn’t the case they knew now. So that begged the question...what had Hell done with all its rebel-rousers and ne’er-do-wells?
On the bright side, If he didn’t find a way to escape, he’d find out first hand.
Damn it. Why had he insisted on getting some quiet while he programmed? He should have just stayed on the couch in the Helliquarters; he’d have gladly endure endless interruptions if it meant he wouldn’t be in this current predicament.
Okay, you can feel sorry for yourself later, he thought, trying to muster up some iron will and fortitude in the face of what (to his inexperience) felt like crippling pain. Think, think. Formulate your process.
First: Get down.
No, no. That was too broad. Smaller steps.
First: Reposition. Just get yourself into a sitting position. He’d work on the next step when he got to it.
Taking a deep breath and steeling himself against the inevitable sensation of fire racing through him, he arched his back till he was bowed up and outward from the arms of the Droopey clone. The fire turned to ice, lancing him in a spider work web of new torment. Reflexively, he turned to curl in on the side where the pain radiated from.
And lost balance on the edge of the bot’s arms.
The plummet to the ground below was swift and jarring. Tom didn’t even have time to suck in a breath before he lost it, his right shoulder (and wounded side, godsdamnit) taking the brunt of the impact. Despite the explosions of light blooming across his field of vision, he instinctively curled tighter, fearing the bot would not stop in time to avoid stepping on its former cargo.
No crushing foot squashed him, no heavy machinery fell on top of him. He lowered his arm from over his head, taking a look around and found his captor staring down at him, eyes narrow. The clone had stopped the second it’d lost its cargo, either because it’d sensed the weight difference or because this creature had commanded it to stop. Tom couldn’t see a tablet in Its hand though.
“How did that feel?” It asked.
“Pretty good,” he lied.
“You’re going to do that again, aren’t you?” Posed as a question, but Tom knew It didn’t really expect an answer. Part of him (the part that had struck the ground first) wanted to scream “never again” while another part knew, if It made the clone pick him back up, he’d be forced to try again.
“Believe it or not, that was the carrying position with the most dignity,” It said, almost with comradery, as though It were confessing to a long-time friend who might understand Its choice. “Have you ever been carried like a barrel?”
No, but Tom could see it now: slung over the shoulder of the Droopey clone, arms dangling towards its ass-end, while the immovable robotic arms encircled him, holding him fast and without any ability to break free.
“I’d rather walk,” Tom replied.
It threw Its head back, bellowing a squeaky little toy-like laugh. “You think I was born last cycle. You think that’s clever. Me, little first cycle babe, lets you walk, you break for a run the first chance you get. No...I am not a first cycle yearling. I’ve been alive long enough to see everything-”
Second (after inadvertently missing several other steps that might have been next): Kick the bastard.
His foot shot up and into the chin of the creature, snapping Its head back with a sickening crack. It stumbled backwards, stunned. Tom rolled onto his good side, trying to get to his feet, which...he’d forgotten were bound. He made it to his knees and, screaming loudly with the effort, rolled back onto the balls of his feet, focusing all his energy to his legs, commanding them to lift him.
Eventually, and very unstably, they did.
So he began to hop away at full speed, not bothering to look back and see if the Droopey clone would follow.
A bellow of rage filled the hallway behind him. But it was just so damned squeaky it almost made Tom laugh. Almost made him glance back. Instead, he kept hopping forward, serpentine style – more because he had terrible balance at the moment than for any strategic reason.
Something collided with his back, sending him pitching forward. He couldn’t raise his bound hands fast enough so he face-planted against the hot stone, once again forcing the air from his lungs on impact. He coughed and wheezed as it returned.
Tiny claws dug into the flesh of his back, flexing and unflexing for maximum effect. “Foolish human! How far did you think you'd make it with your legs bound?” It hopped forward onto Tom's head.
Cheek pressed flat against the rough stone floor, Tom spat back between squashed lips. “Can you blame a guy for trying?”
The mini-talons were in his ear, his neck, his scalp, needling in and retracting. It leaned closer (at least he suspected, because one moment his ear was just warm from embarrassment and then it was hot with hissing breath) and squeaked out something in another language.
He recognized it. Kyzin. This creature was another of the Kyzin. Brother, father, second-cousin-of-a-cousin of the Satans? And which did The Curator look more like? The tall, lanky, wide-eyed Satans, or this short cartoon-voiced, bat with no fur? He wasn't sure which of the two had given him more problems.
“Get over here, you lout!” It called backwards, to the Droopey clone likely. Tom was, already, quite “here”.
“I'm not going to make it easy for you to take me to be tortured at the behest of your boss,” Tom muttered. The creature was still perched annoyingly atop his head, making it difficult to look around. But It wasn't so heavy he couldn't move entirely. Did he have it in him to buck the pest off and try hopping free again?
It'd ended so spectacularly before.
Footfalls behind him told him that the robot had finally moved closer to them. The weight on his back lifted, but his relief was short lived as a shadow fell over his face. The arms of the Droopey clone were closing in, preparing to pick him up. Tom thought, from his peripheral, the creature had made a gesture of some kind to the bot, to which it had responded, bending towards him.
But then he was in the vice-grip of the robot, lifted into the air like a toy in a crane game.
Frantically, Tom tried to mimic what he thought he saw. But with his hands bound, the gesture of his left was muddied by the presence of his right. Well...might as well try...
“Put me down, you lout!” he squeaked, trying to imitate the voice of his captor. Nothing.
It flapped Its wings, hovering mid-air at Tom's eye level. “Are you having a stroke? Humans are so susceptible to them, it's a major defect of your kind.”
Surely, this creature knew (it just had to) the Droopeys and Imps weren't living, breathing – or even undead – things. Right? It had to be commanding it somehow. Whether by voice, or visual recognition of hand gestures, It was directing the bot. Without a tablet.
Tom stowed that piece of information away.
“I'll walk,” Tom tried again, though he knew the answer.
Brows falling, deeply, into annoyance and disapproval, his captor shook Its head. “I think not. You've earn yourself a barrel hold.”
And that was how Tom came to be staring at the ass-end of a Droopey clone while being kidnapped by the villain of a kids show.
The blood of his afterlife body was pooling nicely in his head an hour later. One thing being dead had done for him was make it harder for him to pass out. Which would have been a blessing, honestly, given the sheer pressure pounding through his skull now that all the blood from his body was having a party on each end of him.
While it pulsed and throbbed in the north end, it tingled and zapped in his south end. If he'd thought a foot going to sleep was bad, it was nothing compared to the whole body going “pins and needles” on him.
It was hard, positioned as he was, to tell where they were, but even if he wasn't staring at the narrow butt of the hulking Droopey clone, he'd probably still be unable to tell where he might be. Thankfully, they were at least still on Level Six. Tom didn't know what it meant for him if his captor took him to another level of Hell. It'd make it infinitely more difficult for his friends to find him, that was at least for sure.
Had they noticed his absence yet? Was Eva, even now, asking around for him? Commanding Stanton to send teams to sweep Hell in search of him?
Please, please, please. I won't ever go anywhere alone again, I promise. He had to trust that while (at this point) the rebellion didn't exactly need him, there were enough Hellizens who cared about him they'd try to find him.
There were a few times he'd gotten his hopes up as the sounds of movement implied someone or something was approaching them. But then he'd spy the shuffling legs of a Droopey clone – sometimes an Imp – and his spirits would deflate. Now, whenever even a door opened, his heart didn't even speed up.
At least the pain in his side had dulled from chest-splitting agony to gut-wrenching discomfort. The blood had clotted at last, pulling his skin tightened as it dried. Now, it itched something awful.
The creature made no attempt at small talk. Didn’t even fall behind in Its stride to check on him. Not even a word meant to get under his skin. Just silence and the steady, rhythmic thump of the bot’s feet as it plodded along.
Some time longer and the forward movement stopped. From his upside-down position, and if he pushed against the backside of the bot, he could see around to the frontside. They stood at a wall. There was nothing particularly different about this wall. It looked like every other brimstone veined wall that made up the sixth level of hell.
Had the bot malfunctioned?
But the creature didn’t seem to be concerned. In fact, Tom could just make out Its little body standing between Droopey and the wall they’d stop at. It appeared to stand on Its tiptoes, reaching for something beyond Tom’s field of vision.
There was a hiss and It drew back quickly, standing flat on Its feet once again. “I’ll never get used to that. All the power in the world and it’s always about blood with him.”
It spoke in a quiet voice, not really to anyone but Itself, leaving Tom to wonder what he meant. And just what was It doing exactly? Standing and hissing and talking to a wall with a half delirious prisoner slung over a robot.
Tom soon had his answer as the wall split at a previously undetected seam, revealing a smaller inner cavern. It was so bright it hurt to look at, the material so foreign and strange it made his head spin to contemplate it.
Stepping aside, the creature motioned and the Droopey clone stepped into the new compartment that had materialized in the wall. It turned, facing Tom towards the hallway they’d just been in moments before.
All around them...dull silver. Yet bright. Overly polished but grimy with age. It took a second more before his addled brain finally caught up to what his eyes were seeing. They were in a metal box of some kind. And it had the familiarity of something he couldn’t quite put into words.
The creature stepped in after them, turned back towards the hallway, and once again lifted Itself onto the balls of Its feet. Another hiss and the opening closed, sealing them into the box. A moment and the feeling of his stomach dropping out below him made Tom want to kick himself.
Had he really been so long in this place he hadn’t recognized this for what it was? They were in a godsdamned elevator.
Which inspired two thoughts simultaneously: Cool and (more sharply) Fuck.
Best case scenario, the elevator was taking them to another floor within the same level. Worst case, he was being taken to another level.
Like the top.
Were they speeding towards Heaven? Next stop: The Curator. Oh, and here's his “Shoe” in your face while you wait.
In fact, that was what he was going to call this miscreant taking him away from his friends and revolution – Shoo. In part for Its comment about bugs and squashing, but also because Tom wanted to shoo him away like an annoying pest.
He couldn't wait to tell Eva and the others that there was a fucking Hellivator. Either it hadn't been on plans or it was one of the things they hadn't gotten around to adding. Either way, Erika was going to love the wordplay.
If he got back to them.
In this position he would not be able to make a break for it. Time for a new process analysis.
First: Droopey clone needed to put him down.
Second: He needed to break the bonds on his legs or he wasn't going to make it very far.
Tentatively (he didn't want to alert Shoo to what he was attempting) he flexed his thighs, trying to pull his legs apart at the ankles. They held, but he got a nice charlie horse in his calf for the trouble. Whatever the bonds were made of, they weren't going to break easily.
Perhaps if he could find something to use as leverage – a pole, trident, hell, he'd even waste a tablet on this – and wedge it between his ankles. A little pressure and it might snap the ties. Maybe he'd have better luck trying his wrists first.
Attempting that only lanced him with a sharp stitch in his side.
Okay, getting down from the Droopey clone was still step number one.
The feeling of movement suddenly stopped and Shoo rose up, pressing on some unseen control panel and the doors to the elevator slid open to a world of silver and white. It was achingly pristine. Clean lines, bright light, and what sounded like chimes, the hallway that stretched before them was actually quite beautiful.
There wasn't anything scary about the soft marble walls, in fact there were railings along them; a little taller than the average human might need, but they'd do in a pinch. Upside down he was in the perfect position to make out intricate scrollwork worked into the stone flooring. It reflected the lights with silver flashed. Metal inlay. It ran like cursive circuitry.
The air wasn't hot and oppressive, reeking of sulfur and brimstone. It was clean, almost cold. Like the way fall smelled before the first frost. Tom felt his skin prickle, goosebumps forming across the whole of him at this sudden temperature change.
He tried to map out each turn they took. If he did manage to get free, he'd need to find his way back to the elevator. There was no guarantee there would be tablets on this level. In fact, in the ten or so minutes they'd been marching steadily forward, Tom hadn't heard another set of feet. No Droopey clones to keep the peace, no TS Imps leading some poor sod towards their Daily Scheduled Torture.
There were no Hellizens awaiting their fate.
Just Shoo, this lone bot, and Tom.
They finally stopped and this time Tom could hear the tell tale sounds of a doorway sliding open. Inside, he was unceremoniously deposited onto the ground. He hit with all the grace of a split sack of flour, slumped and bleeding anew.
Oops, sorry God. I leaked all over your clean floor.
Well, at least step one was complete. He was off the bot's shoulder.
He took a look around, body uncomfortable for so many reasons. At least the pins and needles were mostly in his legs and arms. But he didn't need those till he had a way to free himself. Tingle away, he told his ass.
The room looked similar in layout to Satan's quarters, but in place of the comfortable couches were three medical looking tables in parallel. The far wall (the same place in the Helliquarters had been covered in monitors) was a metal peg board with neatly lined tools. Some he recognized – hammers, wrenches, bladed instruments of varying lengths – others he did not. He wasn't sure which unnerved him more.
Where Satan's desk would have sat there was instead a strange upright tank, bubbling with water. Tubes ran the length of it, snaking in and around and out of sight. A control panel rested atop a thin pole in front of the tank, lights flashing green.
There was no water feature in the room, unless you counted the tank. But he could see a door where the server room had been on his level.
Already he missed Level Six of Hell. How fucked was that? Somewhere between dying and being kidnapped, had he actually started to think of that place as home? Maybe not the place, but the people...yeah, they'd become a kind of home to him.
Shoo gestured and the Droopey clone stepped away from Tom. Another wave of Shoo's hands and the bot seemed to slump, the absence of an otherwise unnoticed electrical hum told Tom it had powered down.
So, Shoo was controlling through the bot by way of hand motions.
Was this Droopey programmed to recognize motions from only Shoo or would it respond to Tom, provided he learned the proper gesture? He filed that question away for later. Right now he needed to find a way to get to that wall where he spied a long handled blade that would serve him in Step Two of his escape plan.
A hiss sounded and he realized the door had been open. Shoo had waved towards the opening and a moment later, it had closed.
Tom tried to log away the gesture to try later. His brain was overfull, repeating lines of information over and over as a way to solidify it. The turns in the hallway, the visual commands, the gesture to open the door. It was starting to jumble together.
Need to get out of here, put some of this information to actual use.
But now Shoo's attention was once again on him.
“Well Tom, it's just you and me.” Shoo grinned down at him, that's how slumped he was. This foot and a half tall bat was looming over him with a look that spelled...well, nothing good.
“I don't put out on the first date,” he said, trying to shift higher against the wall. If he could get to his feet, he'd only need to hop a short distance to the wall of tools. He might could even make it before Shoo managed to turn the Droopey clone back on and stop him. Or fly into his back, face planting him into the ground again.
“Ever the comedian. He warned me you lacked the ability to understand the gravity of your situation.”
Tom's head lolled to the side so he could get a better look up at Shoo. “I understand perfectly. Those tables aren't for bat family dinners. And that wall isn't just a pretty arsenal that collects dust while you theorize what they might do to flesh.” He laughed. “I just think you might want a little foreplay before you take the goods.”
Shoo's eyes narrowed, annoyed at his blasé demeanor. “Your humor, weak as it is, will not be sufficient enough armor to protect you.”
Of that, Tom had no doubt.
“So that's it? Not even an audience with the Illustrious Curator?”
Shoo went still. So still Tom wondered if It was also a bot, pausing to receive an update, or powering down due to insufficient energy. Then, “What did you say?”
“Don't I get to plead my case to God?” Tom was finally inching up enough that he could look eye to eye with Shoo.
“You didn't say 'God'.” There was ice in Shoo's voice. Colder than the room around them.
“What did you hear?” He was stalling, unsure what he'd inadvertently revealed with his sarcasm.
Grams had always warned him his smart mouth was a doorway for the devil to work through. It was going to get him in trouble one day.
“You said 'Curator'.” Shoo was watching him intently.
“Say what?” What was wrong with that?
“Where did you hear that name?”
A warning went off in his head, loud as instinct and just as insistent. He needed to be very, very careful how he responded. “Oh, you heard Curator. No, I’m sorry. I said the Creator. You know, God?” He tried to pull on other names he’d heard in the precious few times he’d been to church with his grandma. “Alpha, Omega? The Beginning and the End?” Now he just sounded like a Rich Mullins song.
Shoo was not buying it. “Someone’s been talking. Someone’s been saying things they ought not to.”
Tom swallowed. The room was too cold to allow much of a sweat to break out on him but it hid just beneath his skin. Thus far The Curator had been operating under the assumption (it seemed) that Saddie was being held against his will. A prisoner of war like Cam. And technically, he had been. But he’d also helped them, even while being a huge cryptic-emotion-scenting-pain-in-the-ass. And Tom had unintentionally outed him.
What that might mean for Tom’s present predicament, he knew not, but it certainly didn’t bode well. Shoo was eyeing him with all the intent of a madman eager to ply his torturous trade upon him. Would he use those tools on the wall to make him talk?
But Shoo turned away, hand moving with a flourish towards the direction of the Droopey clone. The bot stood erect, coming to life nearly as quickly as it’d gone to “sleep”. Shoo was just to the door at the back of the room when It turned and called back over Its shoulder, “Watch Tom Griffin and do not let him escape.”
Then Shoo disappeared through the doorway, leaving him alone with the robot.
It stomped towards the far wall, drawing Tom’s attention to a cylindrical container much like one that might hold umbrellas near one’s front door, only this one held tridents. Armed with a weapon, the Droopey clone did Shoo’s bidding and aimed the tip of the three-pronged spear towards Tom’s throat mere inches away.
“Feels like Day One all over again,” he muttered, gulping down his concern.
He shifted slightly, testing the allowances for Shoo's command to the bot. The Droopey clone stared at him blankly but otherwise didn't react. Small movements then. Tilting his head ever so slightly, he took a first real look at what bound his wrists.
It didn't appear to be metal, that was good. But it was black and thick, coated in some kind of wax, strands braided together to make it durable and nigh unbreakable if he tried to pull his hands apart. He was definitely going to need something sharp to cut through them.
Luckily, he had a whole wall to choose from. The only thing that stood between him and potential freedom was a massive hulking mess of saggy faux flesh and a half ton of metal.
Tom stared down the length of the trident into the emotionless eyes of the bot, thinking.
Like the tip of a fucking trident?
Studying the weapon only inches from his face, he considered the option. If he tried this, he was only going to get one shot at it. Because this was surely going to register as “escaping” to the Droopey clone. And if he didn't time it right, he was going to be on the bad end of a terrible plan.
Glancing towards the door where Shoo had disappeared, Tom wiggled his legs. The tingles were still popping all across his muscles, but they'd begun to fade. He couldn't wait for them to fully subside. Whatever Shoo had gone to do was nothing good, of that Tom was certain. It had the same air as the obvious information extraction set up all around him.
Slowly, so slowly, Tom pulled his knees up towards his chest. When they were at a sixty degree angle, he started to turn to the side, appearing to get more comfortable against the wall.
I'm not leaving, just cozying up. Settling in. That's right, don't mind me.
At one point he moved too fast and the clone made the slightest foot step forward, freezing Tom in place. They were locked in a stare down for a good twenty seconds before he felt ready to move again.
Once he'd fully brought his knees up and turned so his right side was pressed against the wall, he took a deep breath, eyeing the distance between him and the end of the weapon pointed at him.
One shot, Tom. And he was either going to nail this...or regret this, royally.
With a deep breath he let himself fall backwards, bringing his legs up and towards one of the trident's tips. At the same moment the Droopey clone moved, shoving the weapon forward. Tom braced for the pain of metal tearing through flesh. A loud clang filled the air when the tip struck the stone wall where he'd once been.
And hanging from that closest point...were his legs. When it'd struck, the narrow point had slipped between the bonds, with the help of some strategic maneuvering on Tom's part. The trident's end was embedded an inch or so in the stone wall, reminding Tom just how much power the minions of Hell truly had.
But now he had something to give him extra leverage.
Tom yanked downward as hard as he could, wincing as the wound in his side protested. The force and downward motion pulled the bonds clean apart with a resounding snap! Dropping his legs to the ground.
For a moment Tom almost didn't believe it had worked. He fancied even the Droopey clone looked stunned. They both stared at the broken cords and Tom's legs. Then urgency returned to him and Tom rolled onto his chest, using his bound hands to push against the ground and rise to a standing position.
Already the bot was pulling the trident from the wall, turning to subdue its now free captive.
Well, almost free.
Tom sprang for the far wall, trying to be as quiet as possible, but that proved difficult, thanks to the dead, white noise still crackling through his limbs. He stumbled towards the weapons but tripped and stumbled forward, crashing into a low shelf display of what looked like laser guns.
Without really knowing what he was reaching for, he grappled for a weapon. Or two. Or three.
His tingling fingers finally listened to his command, closing around the handle of something bladed and other. Behind him, the bot was dragging the trident along the floor, feet pounding as it sped towards him. Tom had just enough time to finish grabbing the weapon that he could turn and watch the bot crash into him, pinning him against the display.
There was no hiding that sound. Shoo was surely aware now that something was transpiring.
Unless that doorway led to a place larger than a server room.
Tom didn't want to find out. He tried to shove against the weight of the Droopey clone, but his arms were still bound together and pressed at a downward angle, the knife-thingy somewhere near his thigh and unusable.
“Damn, you're a heavy bastard,” Tom grunted. The shelf at his back dug deep, sending a new kind of pain through him. Air was finding it difficult to make it to his lungs. The bot was going to fucking crush him.
Surprisingly, Shoo was still MIA, but there was no telling how long that would continue to be a blessing. Tom needed to get gone, and now.
Rather than continue to push against the bot, Tom went limp, letting the flex out of all his muscles. It gave him just enough room to drop onto his ass, out from under the pressing, foul smelling weight of the bot. It also gouged a chunk out of his back by way of the display shelf. There'd been no give in that as he'd slide down to the ground.
“Jesus Christ,” Tom cursed, panting. It was already starting to sting and ache painfully. “That's going to leave a mark.”
Then he snaked through the open legs of the bot, trip-falling forward into a run, straight for the door that had brought them here. Frantically, he tried to mimic the motion he'd seen Shoo use to close the door before. Nothing happened.
“Damn it!” His bound hands weren't helping. A glance to mark the location of the bot and he decided it was worth the risk. Tom flipped the bladed end of the weapon he'd grabbed till it was against the ties on his wrists.
The Droopey clone was turning towards him.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
Tom sawed at the bonds fast, nearly dropping the weapon from his shaking hands.
The Droopey clone was stomping towards him now. This time, the trident wasn't trailing behind It. Instead, the bot had raised it, hunkering down over the staff, and entered “ramming” speed.
Tom couldn't help the little scream such a sight gave him. It was high, a bit squeaky, and he didn't care one damn bit.
The bonds finally snapped and at almost the same instant, Tom raised a single hand and replicated the gesture towards the door.
“Please work!” He practically screamed at the inanimate object.
It slid open and he fell towards it in relief just as cold, cold pain sliced across the side of his shoulder.
It grazed him, his unsteady step forward saving him from taking the tip full into the meat of his back.
Tom didn't wait for another second. He sprinted for the opening, taking a hard right as soon as he cleared the opening. The need to be anywhere else, somewhere far from Shoo and the bot who meant to skewer him like a pig, drove Tom forward.
All thoughts of the path he'd taken to get there fled in the face of his panic. There was only the white and silver hallways and the need to run. And run Tom did.
submitted by colie_o to HFY [link] [comments]
2019.09.09 04:50 Hgkkhk Cam tanning spy
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2016.10.04 20:27 colie_o Spy cam tanning
All Sapiens Go To Heaven: Part 19
This chapter is short (and long overdue) because I've been recovering from some health issues, so thanks for your understanding!
In Which There Are Nasty Guests and Cake - Of A Sort
The door opened up into an impossibly large room. Larger than the schematics of the floor’s layout could have accommodated.
And it was filled – brimming, overflowing, crowded – with books. Towers, shelves, teetering stacks of books everywhere. Thin paper spines, fat gilded leather bound volumes, rolled vellum scrolls – endless isles of written words.
A small space had been cleared – though Tom used that word loosely for it was still piled high with books and loose leaf parchment – in the entry way where a worn desk and several plush, wing-backed chairs sat.
“Where are they?” Eva asked.
Tom scanned what he could see from the crowded doorway. This didn’t look at all like the room their friends were locked in. Then, to the left, he saw the outline of another door behind some shelves. “There.”
En masse they moved towards the door. Tom hoped one key worked for all the manual doors, much like one key worked for a single house. But if not, he was prepared to bring the Droopey-clones down here to throw themselves at that door till it broke or they did.
Thankfully, Eva slid the key slid without problem, turning it fluidly. The door creaked on aged hinges. So, the cell wasn’t used often but someone kept the lock greased, ready. Inside, curled and bound on the floor, they found Vick and Zee, their eyes wide with surprise.
Eva ran forward, pulling the gags from their mouths and releasing their bonds. Zee sighed in relief and rose a foot into the air, stretching his wings. Tom could make out a wet sheen on the black membrane where the makeshift ties had bit in to the tender appendages.
“Thank god, Eva!” Vick cried, throwing raw, red wrists around her neck in gratitude. The others surged around them each clasping Vick and Zee in companionable happiness. All except Crissus who hung back, looking around the larger room thoughtfully.
“How badly did he hurt you guys?” Eva patted Vick’s arms, turning him around to inspect every inch of exposed skin. Other than the welts where the rope had rubbed they appeared unharmed.
“Some of the other prisoners found us when we fled from the guards. One of them wanted to stick us with knives–”
“Peel our skin back,” Zee added.
“–but this tall–”
“So tall.” Zee again.
“–being – that’s the only way I can describe him – he wouldn’t let that other guy hurt us.”
“Stopped him, then shoved us in here all trussed up like veggal morsels,” Zee finished. Veggal morsels? No doubt some delicacy where Zee came from.
“He didn’t torture you?” Eva asked, surprise in her voice. Tom didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have believed that Satan had just thrown them into this cell in a strange library without first recording their screams of pain for Swek to use on them later.
Whose screams had those been then?
Vick shook his head, leaning against Greystone. The hulking man helped walk the younger man out into the library, setting him down in one of the chairs. Vick slumped into the cushy back, the hard edge of stress on his face softening.
Zee followed, grimacing in pain and dipping lower the longer he tried to stay aloft. Felicia raised a thick arm up and the little guy landed, curling his wings around his tiny form. When they reached one of the other chairs he hopped onto the arm rest.
Now that they had their friends back, Tom looked back at the strange, oversized room.
“Tomtomgriffin,” Lightfoot said from around Tom’s neck. “Does something feel off about this room? Makes my fur stand on end.”
“It’s larger on the inside than the blueprints allow.” Tom pulled open the map on his tablet, showing him the supposed dimensions.
“How?” Lightfoot asked.
“Pocket dimension,” Crissus said.
They turned to face him. Sometimes Tom forgot that Crissus was from a technologically advanced society. His strange speech, often Yoda-like, and nearly always with third person references to himself, gave others the impression – Tom included – Crissus came from a more primitive world.
“Really?” Tom asked, fascinated.
The little guy turned towards the door they’d first come through, running a hand along the black frame. “Doorway is doorway.”
“The door creates the path to the dimension?” Tom inched closer to inspect the frame. The metal was otherworldly, which meant it was right at home in the hellplane.
“Crissus seen many doorways. Crissus knows.” He took Tom’s free hand and pressed it against the strange surface. “Feel.”
A gentle hum vibrated him, sending goosebumps up one arm and down the other. While the metal remained chillingly cool under his palm a warmth flooded his veins. Crissus released him to pull his hand back. “That’s a strange sensation.”
“What’s a pocket dimension?” Eva asked, putting her hand where Tom’s had been moments before.
“Think of it as a place that exists within our own dimension, but without taking up space within that dimension. The doorway lets us crossover. Because it does not take up any more space than what the doorways does, the room is as big as the dimension allows for, regardless of the space in our own plane.” Tom spun back to look at the far side of the room, which lay dark and seemingly endless, the rows of shelves fading into grey shadows. “This place could be infinitely large by design or function, expanding as more is added to it.”
“That’s some real Star Trek shit right there,” Eva said, amazed.
“But a library? Of all things?” Felicia frowned, picking up a book to sniff the yellowed pages before setting it down again. “This kind of magic and our Overlord uses it to house musty tomes of gibberish.”
“Not magic,” Crissus drawled.
“Whatever it is, it’s impressive,” Eva said.
Tom spotted a slim terminal looking stand that was sharply out of place among the leather and paper. “Satan had books in his office. Maybe he likes to collect them.” Really, really liked collecting them. There were more books than one being could read in a lifetime in here.
Then again, Satan had more than enough lifetimes here. It still took him some maneuvering to wrap his mind around an endless existence.
The shiny glass surface of the terminal looked exactly like that of the tablets. He tapped the screen and a Demonish welcome prompt popped up in beautiful rolling calligraphy, a touch of elegance amidst the brutal terrain of hell.
The greeting faded to a single line with a blinking cursor. A gentle tap on the line brought up a Demonish keyboard. In the bottom right corner was a small symbol consisting of three horizontal lines. Tom tapped on it and up sprang a list with a scroll bar so small it was practically non-existent. Tom translated the text at the top: Codex Index.
“A list of all the books housed here?” Eva pondered after he told her what it said.
“Seems likely. Maybe we should have Twinkle come take a look at this place. Might have some information. Even if it doesn’t, you don’t lock a collection like this behind a door without valuing it. Perhaps we can use it as a bargaining chip with Satan.” Tom tapped on the first option in the list. Up sprang another long list of words he could hardly hope to pronounce. Some didn’t even have lettering he recognized.
“He’ll be a stoat in a hare’s den!” Lightfoot said with a wheezy laugh.
“Stoats eat rabbits?” Eva asked, incredulous.
“We all love our meat,” Ligthfoot said. “Lamb is my favorite.”
“How do you take down a lamb?” Tom asked, flicking through page after page of strange text.
“A bow and arrow, of course.” Lightfoot’s tone was that of “Duh!” making Eva laugh.
“Tom! Eva!” Greystone’s voice shouted from behind several rows of bookshelves. The others – aside from Vick and Zee – had spread out, exploring the curious room.
Hurrying towards them Tom found everyone crowded around a large map hanging from a hook embedded into the stone wall. It looked like a bisected 15 layer cake. In fading text across the top was a title of some kind but Tom couldn’t read it. Each layer had its own title but without knowing the language he couldn’t make out what anything said.
Man, he wished he had Twinkle’s affinity for languages.
Despite the language barrier the map was a work of art. The detail was precise and elegant. Someone had rendered the piece with care and a masterful flourish. Before Tom could ask Greystone what he was supposed to make of this, Tom spied what had pulled the man’s attention.
“Is that?” Eva started, trailing off.
Curling tendrils of flame rose from the layer’s base, delicate whorls of grey steam suspended mid-air over them. The walls were rendered in black with red veins. A closer look revealed the veins formed symbols of some kind. It would have been beautiful if Tom didn’t have the sinking feeling all that was missing from the layer was a giant black star and “You Are Here”.
“We can’t be sure,” he said without much conviction.
Eva rolled her eyes at him. “All it’s missing is pictures of people burning in the flames and a few pitchforks.”
“But I don’t understand,” Felicia said. “There are more than this many levels of Hell.”
“Yeah, and these don’t exactly look like places we’ve seen during our recon.” Eva pointed to the layers above theirs.
Each one was bathed in a different color. One had a verdant grove of jewel green trees growing in it, another was full of cobalt waterfalls and what looked like distant mountain ranges. The top level was white with gold and silver line work. It looked feather soft and aglow as though light shone through from behind.
The layers below theirs weren’t terrible either, though they did grow increasingly darker in color the deeper in the “cake” they were. There was a rich brown one with rivers of amber and one with dusky purple vistas. The final layer was nothing but inky black with starry pinpoints of light in strange constellations Tom didn’t recognize. But it appeared ethereal, not menacing or dangerous.
In fact, had they not suspected the sixth level was a depiction of their hellplane, Tom wouldn’t have found layer six terrifying. It looked warm and surprisingly inviting. The way the steam rose up over the flames made him think of a hot spring.
Was nothing here straightforward? He’d hoped the key would lead them to answers. Instead it’d created more questions. Questions he couldn’t answer until Twinkle looked at the room.
Or Satan stopped talking so cryptically.
Tom rubbed his temples.
Why, Tom, they lead down of course.
Tom’s head snapped up.
“Eva, did your recon teams ever find the top floor of this place?”
“Not yet but I haven’t checked in with them since we found Vick and Zee’s location. Why?”
A strangled cry cut off his reply. Vick shouted Zee’s name then something silenced him.
“This is almost too good to be true,” A voice said behind them at the same moment they all turned towards Vick and Zee. “All of you in the same place. Must be Christmas.”
Swek blocked their path, flanked by his crustacean friends and the woman – Cam – who’d fallen in the acid bath. She appeared mostly healed except for a few places where the skin was bubbled and pink.
“That horned horse is missing,” Cam said with a sneer, pointing a trident towards them.
“He’s a unicorn,” Lightfoot said.
“I want the horse, Swek. He’s mine,” she spat at them.
Tom was painfully aware of the fact they hadn’t brought weapons with them. They’d been too excited about finding the others it hadn’t occurred to him they’d possibly need protection. That Swek would seek them out instead of hiding from them.
A miscalculation Tom would not make again.
Eva’s face was pinched and red. No doubt she felt as much anger for herself as she did Swek. She hadn’t set a trident down for longer than a few moments since taking up the fight with him. Tom wanted to tell her not to be so hard on herself but thought better of giving Swek ammunition with which to hurt her.
“Hello, darlin’,” Swek purred to Eva, menace in his bright eyes.
“How did you find us?” Eva asked.
“I knew it’d only be a matter of time before you went looking for your friends. As soon as you did, a little birdy told me where I could find you.”
The bastard had left an informant among the remaining Hellizens. Clever.
“Swek, we have Satan. You don’t need to work for him anymore. We could use your help.” Tom raised up his hands, the tablet awkward in his grip as he tried to appear non-threatening. The request for help tasted bitter on his tongue but Swek reminded him of a snarling dog, hackles raised. One wrong move and he’d attack.
“You think I’m working for that bag of bones? I’m working for me.” Swek spun his own trident like a baton, giving Tom a half smile. “You know, I never would have guessed you were Tom. When you came for your friends I imagined the mysterious Tom Griffin as someone, you know, larger than life. A real Arnold Swarzenegger. But you’re more Woody Allen aren’t you? Still, I have to thank you. You showed me it was possible to take this place down. To conquer it for myself.”
“Yeah, after Tom did all the work. There’s no way you could hold this place,” Eva said.
Gronak, Greystone and Felicia tightened in around Eva, their expressions hard. This was a powder keg of violence waiting to explode. And Eva was practically sparking with fury.
“Okay,” Tom said, trying to draw Swek’s molten gaze back to him, “I admit, you have us cornered. But this isn’t all of my team. We’ve grown too big for you take us down without notice.”
The butt of Swek’s trident hit his face before Tom registered it moving. Pain blossomed across his cheek and into his skull. Tom staggered and fell back, the edge of the map jabbing sharply into his spine. There was a squeak of pain in his ear. A flash of mottled fur dropped off his neck. Lightfoot. He tried to grab the little guy but his vision danced, hands closing over nothing.
“Tom! Lightfoot!” Eva cried, lurching forward with balled fists. The others surged around her as though they were one entity.
“Ah-ah, darlin’.” Swek moved to block Eva from reaching him. The tip of his trident pushed her back but her eyes were sharp and cold, staring him down as she slowly gave up ground.
Swek’s companions circled around to Tom, forming a barrier between his companions and him. At his back Cam poked her trident into his kidney.
“Sorry about the little rat. Not.” Her fluttery nasal laughter filled Tom with rage. Franticly he searched the floor for Lightfoot, praying the bitch hadn’t stepped on him. Where had he fallen?
Stars continued their bright swirl across his vision, pain a drum beating through his brain and bones. Shaking his head he opened and closed his jaw. Thankfully it wasn’t broken. That’d make spitting in Swek’s face harder.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Swek said, turning back and forth between Tom and the others. “I’m gonna take your friends with me and Tom, Tom you’re staying with Cam here until you show her how to work the bots or till she break all your bones. It’s really up to you.”
“She’s your best bet on learning to control the bots? You’d sooner teach a dolphin to walk upright on land.” Eva snorted, leveling her icy gaze at Cam.
Cam shrieked and tried to lunge towards Eva but Gronak stepped between them, growling low and menacing. The shorter woman stopped short, rage forgotten in the face of Gronak’s hulking, dripping form.
“Now, now girls. Play nice,” Swek said with a laugh, eyes devoid of humor.
Eva looked at Tom around Gronak’s arm and he knew, almost as if he could read her mind, she was ready to fight if he gave the signal. As much as it chaffed to submit to Swek, he didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of him. The image of Twixt covered in blood rose unbidden and he swallowed down a sour taste in his mouth. Could you still throw up in Hell?
Softly – so softly – he shook his head no. While all eyes were locked on her and Gronak, Tom mouthed a single word to her, hoping she’d understand. Hoping she’d take heart from it.
He had to trust Erika would finally track Swek to his current lair and, in doing so, rescue Eva and the others. He’d easily take Cam – hopefully – once they were alone and he could bring a few bots to their location under the guise of teaching her how to manipulate them. Doing so now would not go unnoticed and could set Swek off.
Eva’s face didn’t betray a thing but he knew she was disappointed. It wasn’t in her nature to back down. She touched Gronak’s arm lightly and stepped to the front of their ranks. Turning back to the others she said, “We go.”
They didn’t question or even complain. They trusted her and Eva trusted him.
“Wise choice,” Swek said, stepping aside to let Eva and company pass. The three ocean critters surrounding Tom filed out behind them, grabbing up Vick and Zee.
Eva gave Tom one last look from the doorway, dipping her head ever so slightly. Message received. If Erika couldn’t find them, Tom trusted Eva to find another way out of Swek’s clutches.
Three goons and a madman…what could go wrong?
Reunited for only a moment. At least Eva had Zee and Vick back. He’d kept his word.
“If he tries to stall, take out his knee caps.” Swek held Tom’s gaze for a moment, a sneer pulling up one corner of his thin lips. Then he followed after his thugs, pulling on the door to close it.
But just before it clicked shut Tom thought he spotted a streak of brown and tan slip through the narrow space.
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2016.09.30 23:33 Surbsane Spy cam tanning
Day 7 So I haven't written anything s down for a while. And the simple reason is that nothing was worth writing down since the past five days. It was normal, even though every day I question about the man I met in the top story of the abandoned house. I told Mike all about it and he was very interested about the house now. I told him we should stop going there anymore. We both agreed, we were probably going to end up being fucked up if we investigate the shithole house anyway. School was normal, however, there is this kid who barely talks and today, all of a sudden,he started to grin at us during lunch for a whole minute. He was a tan short kid with messy black hair. He also gets fucking irritated when he has company in the bathroom. I learned that second hand when I walked in the bathroom just in time to see him punching another boy ,taller and buffer than him. He may seem short, but he has some good ass, fighting techniques. So I always stay a far distance away ,just incase I embarrass myself infront of everyone. So after school, Mike and I spotted the kid again. I never got his name by the way. He was walking alone with his head pointing down. It kind of makes me feel bad for him, but again, this kid is crazy. We spied on him just to see if we could get information on his strange behavior. Like I said before, I think. That I am a very curious little shit with a nosy personality. But i try to not be nosy as other people will dislike my appearance. Mike said that the kid may be a son of an abusive or dangerous dad or mom. When I hear things like that, I feel really bad in my stomach. But I might as well not ramble on about my feelings for abusive parents. When we turned a corner from the school block, he was picked up by a man with a hostile looking equipment on. Like a taze gun or even a real gun. I focused harder and realized that , this man was on the news for bombing a warehouse. Well thats what I thought, considering that I’ve seen some strange shit going on, Im sort of connecting everything to trajic incidents. But now, it sort of makes sense of why the kid is being picked up by a criminal. A criminal in my opinion. I looked down at the floor, only to be greeted by a sticky note on the ground saying “Dont follow you two”. Did this kid find out we are following him? “Fuck man, what is this kids problem?” Mike questioned.”I feel like he is involved in something we shouldn’t interfere with” I responded back. Tomorrow, I’ve decided to bring a spy cam to record him, just incase we see something we missed with our own eyes while recording. And yeah, I know it’s rude to record people without them knowing, but this is something that deserves a replay. I cant wait to find more info about this strange place I’m in. Well, It’s late so I guess that im done writing. And it is Friday tomorrow, so I will write more tomorrow.
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2015.12.30 03:30 VoteforLarry TIFU by pushing an unstable driver over the edge by non-verbal communication.
This happened on the 28th. Driving to get my brother on his cake day.
Get on the highway and was pacing 120 km/h (65 mph?) following another car in the fast lane. All of the sudden I look in my rearview to see this bmw x5 flying up behind me..I'm thinking I'll just get out of the way of this wackjob..I get over just as he did too. He swerves a second lane wide to get around me now..Logic dictates to get over to yield to faster moving vehicles. He perceives I cut him off. Fucking moron..He's 35, (google "club guido") just like an overly tanned guy in appearance with his window down screaming at me getting ever closer to my vehicle going 110 km/h. This guy is fucking nuts! He's like a foot from my window. He's partially out of his window just having a complete melt down. I ignore him for a few moments then pick up my cell phone to pretend to take a picture. Hands off the wheel to full on show him I'm getting a great picture of his face. I'm laughing pointing at my phone. Thumbs up like I'm pleased with the picture. When he fucking loses it. Honking..speeding up..slowing down all still right beside me. Pretend picture went too far..huh. He's full on having a melt down with his girlfriend beside him. I just start tapping my head like he's fucking nuts. He's pacing beside me for about a minute when he starts making his way back over to the fast lane.
So I was planning on getting over to take a toll road and start merging over...when all of the sudden he swerves over two or three more lanes following me now again. He's directly behind me. wtf? So odd as he didn't appear to be taking the same route. This is a toll road? What an idiot if he wasn't planning on taking this route. I'm heading East and it's a single lane to merge onto the actual toll road. I took an opportunity to cut infront of another driver safely to give myself a bit of a head start on this wack job following. He's stuck behind this other car while I accelerate away..
I'm flying at 187 km/h for a few kilometres before exiting on my intended route. I get off. Almost fucking lost it slowing down on an off ramp with my winter tires on. I'm thinking no way he is following me now. Take the corner quicker then I should in a car without a double wishbone. Stopped at a set of lights..fuck..I'll make a left to see if he is actually following. He's now two cars behind me...yup he's still fucking following me.. I slow down going through the advanced turn signal thinking like I've seen in spy movies to sneak through at the last moment blocking off cars behind you. This fucker knew what I was doing and turned out went around the two cars blatantly through the intersection almost causing a few accidents. He's a foot off my bumper now. I pull u-turns. We did this for about a 6-7 times with plenty of other cars on the road. I could just imagine what others were thinking witnessing this. He was relentless with his pursuit until he made a mistake...He got infront of me at an intersection wanting to brake check me I could only assume. I quickly back up a bit and made another u-turn and he was forced to commit to the turn as other cars came to block him in.
Last time I pretend to take a picture. Next fucking time I'll actually take a picture for the internet to see!! bah! This goon is going to kill someone with that rage. The fact his girlfriend was in the car was beyond me. It must be a normal experience during a ride with this asshat.
I am determined to buy a dash/rear cam now..This would have been completely insane to see on video. I've experienced road rage but this took it to a new level. It's a day later and I still stop to pause in my thoughts thinking man that was fucking insane. dare every single one of you try to take a picture of a rager and watch them completely fucking go nuclear DEFCON 1. ugh. Must buy dash cams!!
Not the typical TIFU but completely my fault..I fucked up and pushed a driver over the edge. Luckily no one was hurt. Sorry society I prodded someone unstable without getting an actual picture..I just shook my head again. fucking insane.
Edit: Defcon 1 not 4..
submitted by VoteforLarry to tifu [link] [comments]