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The Surviving Soul III"Lanineme!" Elion's surprise is equal to the one of Rhonia's 45 minutes earlier. "Nirmenne! After all these I can't BELIEVE it! We searched for you everywhere!"
"Cut the talk, Eli! Release me! You know how to do it and we're running out of time!" Lanineme orders. "Look outside, Cysir have moved his next mark in the game." Those firm, calm and strong words sound almost surreal to hear from a one year old who is sitting in the lap of her mother. On the other hand this sure is Lanineme, it's the same choice of words, it's the same lilt and the same old nick Elion seldom hears these days. His sister has made it back trough life and death,
The Surviving soul IIIn a seemingly insignificant northern suburb of Vancouver, Canada laid an Adelphoi Magici facility which was one of the most heavily guarded estates on the entire American supercontinent these days. The workers there knew that and they would die to defend their one island of peace in a world of chaos. Thus, when the warning came, the workers thought little of it. The warning spoke of three unidentified objects which had appeared out of nowhere and were now rapidly approaching the compound. Whatever people and other beings had tried to break into the complex several times earlier, and no one had been successful. The security guards assumed the
The Surviving Soul IThe battlefield was a bedlam of blood, death, pain and terror. Screams of men and other beings echoed through the air together with the clash of weapon. As such this battle didn't differ from any other battle during this horrid war among men and gods which had been fought for centuries. This war between Europe and Atlantis, this war to begin all other wars as the saying went, since it had spread like wild fire across the continent, seeped down in the desserts of what was to become Arabia and Persia and even reached as far as the islet which people would one day call India. Now, in northern Etruria, the Europeans were trying to hold this Atlan
Dancing with Deamons XXXXII"Tell me about her, did she seem kosher?" Lokita asks her servant. The tall and blond, former model nods afirmative.
"Yes. She's one of those bored little rich urban girls who have been spending her father's money her whole life and now, after the Outbreak, she has no life really. There's no shopping to do, no night clubs to visit, no movies or Brodway plays to go to, and besides her 'sponsors' are running out of money. Fast. This kind will soon become an endangered specie, I think. So I can safely assure you that she and her li'l circle of friends are harmless."
"Good," Lokita replies with a wicked smile, neglecting to say that this young
The TypewriterThe Typewriter
It began and ended with a word.
Not a particularly strong or powerful word, but a word that changed everything. It wasn't too long or difficult to spell. It wasn't uncommon either. In fact, it was a perfectly ordinary word, but, I suppose, its commonplace origin is what made it so special.
I loved that word.
But the word doesn't mean much without the story along with it and I was always one for telling good stories.
I ignored the call from the other room and remained seated. That tone wasn't unfamiliar. Taking a bite from my toast, I waited for him to call again. It wouldn't be more than ten—
"Sammy! Come q
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More