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Titanic's Forgotten Sister-Chapter 45Chapter 45~
NO ANSWERS TO STAVE THE CONSTANT 'WHY'...
**Little Hood was an adorable youth. His brother, Nelson, was even sweeter. They watched everything in their wartime world with rapt fascination. Hood's green eyes sparked with delight at the simplest matters. Nelson's eyes, an exact copy of my own amber ones, surveyed everything with a calm interest. He was on the verge of being precious looking, something you wouldn't expect a warship outfitted with heavy artillery like myself to say.
**My heart suffered though from the loss of their siblings Olympic had spoke of. Death will inevitably happen to us all, but when it claims a youth, it is practically unforgivable. I was stricken enough from the loss of Dauntless, and that was many years ago. Now to have lose Rodney and Anson as well... If I didn't keep myself in check, I would find myself traversing down a dark place of grief. A place where I did not want to go....
**When a father loses a child, any child, but especially a son, he l
In the beginning In the beginning there was nothing, a white page, a blank canvas. The artist sat before the vast emptiness with a lit torch to his left and a clay pot to his right. “Let us create,” he said addressing the pot and torch and rolling up his sleeves. He held up his fingers in a frame as if to imagine how to start.“Aha!” he shouted with a cry of inspiration.
The creator reached into the pot and withdrew some granular dust. He held it up before himself and blew into it so that it scattered before him, forming all creation in its wake. Worlds and universes burst into being and all that was ever created lay before him as if it were a picture. The creator hand selected a few planets, seemingly at random and lit them up before himself.
He reached down and took a hand full of fire from the torch, yet the torch no less lost its flame. The creator held the flame before his face as he had the grains, but this time inhaled the fi
Death Diary (Entry 49)
Forgive the lateness of this entry. My hands have been full recently, and I am still not done with this business in Ukraine. War has been up to his usual mischief there and his fingerprints are all over the place. I’m always having to clean up that lunatics mess. I will not go into another rant about politics, but do know that I find myself growing ever more disturbed by the backstabbing and hypocritical nature of politicians. But again, I will leave that alone for now. I don’t wish to dwell on it. I only tell you all this so that you know why this entry will be shorter than normal.
Loneliness is a very depressing thing, isn’t it? I’ve been all over the world and seen all different kinds of people, but I don’t truly get to know them. My work is my only companion. I do not make friends with those I meet, but rather carry them onward. It’s a job that I must complete, I know…but it would be nice to have someone to talk to. I supp
Days as Dirk Day 15Days as Dirk
Okay, so let’s just start by me telling you that it wounds don’t heal in just a matter of hours. With that being said you may now know why I have skipped to the 15th day. Dirk is now going to start his first day working at that robotics factory. Enjoy!!
Your name is Dirk Strider and for the past few days you have been here at the Lalonde house. While Roxy was gone most of the time you spent a lot of time with her younger sister Rose. She was surprisingly smart for her age, and you enjoyed talking to her about her interests. She kept conversation very well and has even been a kind of outlet for you to get over everything going on with what happened. Though she is oddly curious about behaviors, and she isn’t the best at pronouncing the bigger words she knew of she was still pretty fucking amazing.
You remember the countless tea parties you two had while Roxy was
Pokemon Y Wedlocke! Part 10. The final Update.After leaving the pokemon Center Once more, i headed back to Victory Road to journey through it and make my way to The pokemon League. The first opponent was Ace Trainer Alanza as they sent out a lvl 60 Weavile and i sent out Shinji. The battle was tough as Shinji's best attack against Weavile was Rock smash and it was slowly but surely working at weakening it's Defense but it soon hit Shinji with a strong attack and nearly defeated him but after healing him up, Shinji was able to win. The next trainer was Ace Trainer Bence as i sent out Shinji and they sent out a lvl 56 Steelix. This was a tough battle for Shinji but i needed him to become stronger as i kept him out and he was able to win against Steelix as i called him back and sent out Erza as they sent out a lvl 57 Kangaskhan. Erza was lucky enough to win with her Flamethrower attack by using it a couple times as i called her back and sent out Shinji once more as a lvl 56 Electrode was sent out. With the power of Crunch and stomp,
Pokemon Y Wedlocke! Part 9.After spending time thinking about who to pair up after the loss of Misaka and Joey in the final battle against Lysandre, Erza the Charmander and Shinji the Whismur were picked and added to the party. The only problem was getting them trained up as Erza was at lvl 10 and Shinji was at lvl 13. I Soon headed off to Route 18 and had my first encounter of a lvl 45 Male Torkoal. He was caught and nicknamed Axel. To do Erza's and Shinji's Training, i had no other choice but to turn on the EXP Share which also meant giving EXP to the whole party and with Blanc in the lead, i began the training. As the training went on, Erza went from lvl 10 to 16 as she learned dragon rage at 16 and then evolved into a Charmeleon but her training wasn't done as she soon went from lvl 16 to 36 to become a Charizard. At lvl 21 she didn't learn scary face, lvl 28 she learned fire fang and forgot smokescreen, At lvl 32 she learned Flame burst and forgot Ember. After evolving, She learned Wing attack and forgot sc
SEGUNDO CAPITULO LA ÚLTIMA FURIA
Zaragoza era una ciudad que encomiaba el nombre de España, pues desde la antigüedad fue palpable el heroísmo con el que fueron defendidas sus murallas. Los franceses no entraron en la ciudad cuando se decidieron a invadir el país. Siempre había sido un baluarte que significaba el valor y la resistencia de las fuerzas españolas.
Su padre destacaba entre los más honorables en el ejército. Él era franquista determinado. Lo había asesinado ETA por ser un defensor genuino de la unidad de España. Ella tenía sólo once años cuando este suceso ocurrió y sus decisiones fueron profundamente transformadas. Fue inteligible su conducta, pues desde esa edad se decidió a omitir seriamente lo que tuviera pinta política o militar.
In the beginning (conclusion)Clot sat and stared at the white wall. It fascinated him to no end. Animals began to gather around him and Sun before the wall as well. The man stood up and placed his hand against the bright wall. “The architect said not to touch it,” Sun said disapprovingly. “Edge of reality...” Clot murmured quietly to himself, lost in thought, “Death...?”
One of the animals came up and nudged Clot in the back. “What is it, Ox?” the man snapped impatiently, frustrated at being drawn away from his object of curiosity. “Clot,” Sun cooed as she stepped up and put her hands on his shoulders, “if it will get you to stop obsessing over the edge, I will help you open it.” The woman moved and stuck her fingers into the mortar that stuck the white bricks together. Her hands sunk into the wall as if it were made of clay. Temptation wheedled away at the man’s resolve until he joined in and stuck his hands between the
Same Hands, Different SkinIt was midday. But he couldn’t tell - the clouds never went away. It was cold as well. Which may not seem unusual for a place with constant grey skies, but it was (in fact) colder than normal. He concluded it was the rain. It wasn’t rain. It was ash. Zuukh had a scare this morning: only a few minor shakes, a pot or a pan every other house. The docks were quiet, too, another sign of the cold. This combination of ash and cold air didn’t sit well with him; it boiled a sort of dread inside. It also gave rise to a counter feeling: the more he looked around, the more he realized just how small this corner of the world he lived in was; beauty. He found himself slowing his pace, stopping almost. He came up to wooden cleat, rested his hand on it. A skua perched on the one next to it shook itself clean of ash, oblivious to its continuous falling. The water below him rested a group of seal; out in the distance, walrus; orca and right whale even further (if the ash let up a
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