Black cartoon characters male

Just ordered a White Victrix FS Pro. Love the white/black but so-so about the purple. Looking to mod some components
Anyone have recs for:

1. high quality braided usb-C male to usb-a male cables?
   
2. ways to order black underside padding / grip to replace the purple grips underneath (super plus if they’re OEM!)
   

Much thanks

So let's say Marvel editorial decide to listen to fans and progress Peter's character as an adult and married man. BUT he doesn't get married to MJ. For example, he gets with Black Cat and they get married ala Batman/Catwoman marriage but it actually goes THRU.
Thoughts?

A while ago before I was red-pilled, I was already interested broading my horizon of fantasy books and unfortunately ended up on the god-forsaken Fantasy Subreddit. Here, I was taken in by the insanity of Critical Race and Feminism. For this reason, I wishlisted books which contain woke leftist or elements like LGBTQ characters and sTRoNg Wamen or are written by female or just woke authors like N.K Jeminism. After knowing better, I try to avoid books with such characteristics, but I heard many good things about those books. For this reason, I want some book suggestion which are "woke" but are also entertaining on their own even if you don´t agree with their politics.
I also want to add a list of books of which many are woke but I want to know if these are actually good:

• Books from N.K.Jeminism
• Song of the Lioness by Tamora Pierce
• The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon
• Books from Sarah J. Maas
• The Poppy War by R.F Kuang
• The Murderbot Diaries and The Books of the Raksura Series by Martha Wells
• The Sparrow by Maria Doria Russel
• The Golem and the Djinni by Helene Wecker
• Books by Marion Zimmer Bradley
• The Green Bone Saga Fonda Lee
• Books by V.E Schwab
• The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
• Imperial Radch series by Ann Leckie
• Dragon Prince series by Melanie Rawn
• Fortune's Pawn by Rachel Bach
• The Coldfire Trilogy by C.S. Friedman
• Sword of Shadows by J.V. Jones
• Crown of Stars Series by Kate Elliott
• The Obernewtyn Chronicles by Isobelle Carmody
• The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu
• Books by Anna Smith Spark
• Books by Anna Stephens
• Books by Stehpen Baxter
• Tyrants and Kings by John Marco
• Acacia by David Anthony Durham
• Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James
• Books by Adrian Tchaikovsky
• The Invinsible Library series by Genevieve Cogman
• Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde
• Daggerspell by Katharine Kerr
• Book of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau
• Essalieyan Series by Michelle West
• Kushiel´s Dart and The Sundering series by Jacqueline Carey
• Crown and Court by Sherwood Smith
• Binti by Nnedi Okorafo
• Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir
• Mermaid's Song by Alida Van Gores

I love the 3 original season, and I tolerate season 4, but I still believe the writers could have given more depth to some characters. They didn't have time to, but I wish I could have seen more of the specialist, or the platonic friendship between the fairies and the specialist. If I could write some "fanfic" additional storylines, that what I would have done :

• More platonic friendship, like Musa x Brandon, Techna x Riven or even better, Aisha x Sky. Aisha x Sky had great chemistry, but they were only used to create drama between Bloom and Sky, and it get old really quickly.
  
• Expend on some really interesting minor characters, such as Mirra and Lucy. Lucy was really interesting, I relate a lot to her. Not being conventionally attractive and trying to gain some confidence by become friend with the "cool kids", only for it to backfire.
  
  • Having more exploration of the girls world. Let the girl talk about their cultures, their tradition, their unique point of view and mentality.

I would love a side story about Riven and Techna. I'm talking about friendship. I feel like they have great potential. They both have a black and White view of the world, they are both highly critical and a but cynical. They both have really high standards for themselves and the other (think about how in season 2 Techna ghosted Timmy because he didn't tried to go after the Trix). But they are survivors. Riven survive by himself after his mom abandoned him and Techna survived after landing in the Omega dimension. I would love to read a story about them tracking some strange activity at magix city. In a urban world, Techna power would interesting and Riven "street intelligence" would be helpful.
Tell me what you think and what you would do instead.

Developed by IO Interactive (who did the Kane and Lynch games) and published by WB Games using the same engine as the Hitman trilogy.
It would follow a mob hitman as he rises through the ranks of the mafia and closely follows the plot of the movie (he would be a background character in the important scenes)
It would be an open world game like The Godfather Game
A rough draft of the Weapon list all weapons are also customizable like in Hitman Blood Money
Snub .32 (Level 1)
.38 Detective’s Special (Level 2)
Saturday Night Special (Level 3)
Black Widow (Level 4)
Pistol (Level 1)
Extended Clip Pistol (Level 2)
Custom 1911 (Level 3)
Prototype Silverballer (Level 4)
.357 Magnum (Level 1)
.44 Magnum (Level 2)
Python (Level 3)
Franchise Special (Level 4)
Long Barrel Shotgun (Level 1)
Sawed off Shotgun (Level 2)
Street Sweeper (Level 3)
Lupara Semi Automatic (Level 4)
Tommy Gun (Level 1)
Modified Tommy Gun (Level 2)
Dillinger (Level 3)
ICA M1A1 (Level 4)
MP44 (Level 1)
Custom MP44 (Level 2)
Paratrooper Rifle (Level 3)
The7 Special (Level 4)
Sniper Rifle (Level 1)
Supressed Sniper Rifle (Level 2)
SEAL M40A1 (Level 3)
ICA .338 Lupara Magnum (Level 4)

Preferably anything that’s steamy or reverse harem, or any kind of animes where theres a group of mafia male characters who kidnap female main character etc.. anything along these kinds of lines, even a romance show between villains and female mc etc.. especially if the male characters are a-holes at the start of the show, tia.

Hello reddit, I beg you for help me to find this cursed cartoon that I watched on YouTube as a child
I tried to post a ago with another account but reddit wouldn’t let me post it and I tried last year to post it on the Lost Media Wiki, many people saw it but they only answered for an other media that I found.
​
TW sexual harassment or Rape
​
So, first of all, I went on the internet at a very very very young age, I'm almost 17 now, I watched many cartoons on youtube, and one of them was pretty weird. Ah and I'm French, so I'm sorry for all the ugly ass mistakes that I will make in this chaotic post I was maybe 9 yo maximum when I saw this cause I remember trying to find it in middle school, I was watching it in my uncle's apartment, on a sofa, at maybe 9pm.
​
S O This cartoon was a mute cartoon, with a style that remind me of silly goofy Asian cartoon like Pucca or any Korean kids show, there was different upload of it with only the title being change to Spanish, Korean or other languages.
Tbh the style reminds me of Johnny Test or Dexter’s laboratory mixed with mucha lucha, the animation was mainly puppet animation and not hand drawn ( idk if you understand), it was for sure an Adobe Flash animation The main character was a very small boy, with blue spiky down hair and a black coat, ONLY a long black coat, with 2 pockets, another main character was a tall girl, with brown or ginger hair, that were in ponytail style and curly, she was wearing a purple dress with maybe a green belt. This girl was working in a supermarket, a symmetric one with a parking front of it. The sky was yellow I think The main plot was that this blue dude tried to SA the girl, I remember of this episode where the girl was at a bus stop, front of the parking and the mall in the background, the blue dude come and took off his coast, revealing a arrow, like literally a blue arrow ( color= gradient of a blue sky and a darker blue), the arrow will expand for trying to go... inside of the lady skirt, but gladly she was prepared for it cause her panties were made of metal ( stripes and screw were visible). This girl was at every episode SA or harassed by this blue dude, his expression was really like “oops I'm sooo silly hihi”, I can’t remember the lady’s face. Like he was LITTERALY trying to put his arrow inside her that was cursed as hell. From mind This cartoon has no moral, it was for me just “ ughh he didn’t SA her, better luck next time”, this cartoon was really cursed, I'm not sure but I think that the characters made voices sounds, not speaking, just some little noises.
I drawn the blue dude, but even with that nobody can find it
Thanks for reading that messy post redditors, take care!

Hello all. I’m looking for a 18+ long term semi detailed rp M4F based on a few anime’s. Naruto, MHA, DBZ, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Black Clover, or even a Slice of Life rp like Quintessential Quintuplets, Rent a Girlfriend Horimiya More Than a Married Couple Less Than Lovers and so on or Harry Potter Rp. I prefer for Harry Potter or the animes to be cannon characters but OCs can be negotiated. For these RPs I prefer if they were a mix of romance and adventure in order to keep things interesting and I would prefer if you could write a minimum a paragraph if possible.
Some characters I’m looking for
Naruto-Sakura, Ino, Tsunade, Kushina
MHA-Momo, Uraraka, Miriko, Midnight, Mt Lady, Mina
DBZ-Chi-Chi, Bulma, 18
One Piece-Nami, Yamato, Uta
Fairy Tail-Lucy, Mirajane, Juvia, Erza
Black Clover-Noelle
Quintessential Quintuplets-Nino, Miku, Ichika, Itsuki, Yotsuba
Rent a Girlfriend-Chizaru
Horimiya-Hori
More Than a Married Couple-Akari
Digimon-Mimi, Sora, Kari
HP-Hermione, Ginny

If I had to pick an embarrassing moment which will haunt me until I die—it has to be the time I tried out for The Sunbeam cheer squad last year. I was a freshman, and I wanted community. Friends.
I heard the cheer squad were just an extra-curricular group rather than an actual majoring level class, so I figured I’d give them a shot. It’s not like I could ignore them.
On my first day when I was moving into my dorm room, I must have walked into the same girl three times. I am in strict belief that it is not possible for a human being to be permanently happy.
And yet that was her. She wandered around like the sun shone right out of her ass, and it was both endearing and terrifying.
The girl resembled the sun herself, a halo of golden curls held in a scrunchie and a flaunting sundress, matching ribbons wrapped around her. The Sunbeam Squad were easy to spot because they were all wearing insanely bright yellow—waving around gold streamers, ribbons tangled in their hair. They all spoke in insanely high pitched voices like they inhaled helium for a living, but that must have been their shtick, right? It was kind of cute. I wasn’t expecting such a welcome in the shape of guy’s and girl’s looking like they had just stepped off of ABC Kids. The girl who handed me a flyer and yelled in my face about school spirit was practically hopping up and down, a bright grin splitting her lips apart.
I nodded and smiled politely, stuffing the flyer in my bag and heading into my room to finish moving my stuff in. When I looked out of my window a few hours later, the Sunbeam squad was still threaded through the crowd, each of them wrapped in glittering fairy lights illuminated in the late evening sunset glow. Sunbeam. Yeah, I got it, but it was still kinda overkill. They were starting to remind me of a cult.
That, however, didn’t stop me trying out. I’m fairly athletic, and they were exactly what I wanted. I’ve never had a group of people I could call friends.
Though it’s not like I could blame anyone but myself. I was a shut-in for most of high school. I either worked or preferred my own company in my room. One of my biggest regrets is pushing people away, friends I wanted to get even closer to. Because now they had built these lifelong friendships and relationships, and I was stuck at 18 years old with nobody but childhood friends I spoke to once a year when we sent mutual holiday greetings to each other. But college could change that.
At least, that’s what I hoped. I spoke to as many people as possible on my first day—and in my head I was making them. Slowly but surely I was actually making friends in my classes I wanted to hang out with.
Sunbeam were my attempt to go even further and join a club. Through word of mouth in my first few weeks of classes, I learned they were more of an extra-curricular group for fun.
They didn’t cheer competitively and had been formed in the mid-90’s by some kids who wanted to make a community out of positivity and school spirit. Sunbeam had a reputation for being Watson State student body’s beacons—and their team’s good luck charm. It was well known across campus that the squad was the reason behind the college’s fortune.
It had been like that since they formed 30 years ago, with members through the generations carrying out that pledge to spread as much pep as possible. While I say that they seemed nice judging from what I heard from others, they weren’t exactly the easiest clique to get into. Unless you were on the squad.
I saw them around campus between classes. They always moved as a group, the six of them with their arms wrapped around each other, brandishing the school colours. The guy’s in loose fitting varsity jackets, while the girl’s flaunted cheer skirts.
The way they acted was a little too close, like they were more than friends—and community and friendship had bled into something else. Like they had just walked out of an early 2000’s teen movie. Not that I was complaining. Their style was intriguing. They were like this untouchable group of god’s who had been placed on the highest pedestals. They ruled over campus, which made me want to get to know them even more. So, I tried out. Which was my first mistake of many in my freshman year.
It didn’t hit me that I was in way over my head until I was in the college gymnasium, standing in front of a four person panel like I was auditioning for a Hollywood movie. Sunbeam took their try-outs incredibly seriously. Which was weird considering they were known to be the complete opposite.
There were maybe fifty or so applicants, and we had to stand near the back wall and watch others try out one by one. Which was already setting off my anxiety. Weren’t they supposed to be closed try-outs? Initially, I was excited.
I had my routine in my head. What I had learned from watching the squad at my old school. High V, Low V, followed by a Touchdown, and then a backflip. I was confident. I mean, it ticked most cheer moves off, and even had a flip to complete the routine. My high school were a multi-sex quad, so I learned a lot from watching the guy’s moves during pep rallies.
I wasn’t really worried about the quality of the moves since they were known not to take everything too seriously. But watching the others try-out, impossible flips without crash mats and twisting their bodies in ways I didn’t know was possible, I quickly realised I was screwed. My competitors were acting like they were auditioning for an Olympic level team. My gut was dancing when I took centre stage.
The panel were made up of four members of the squad. Two boys and two girl’s, including the blonde who handed me the flyer on my first day. I was surprised when her eyes lit up with recognition.
"Oh, I know you!" She squeaked. Leaning forward, her smile seemed to brighten, illuminating her features. All four of them seemed to emanate a warm glow.
I felt myself relax slightly, the knot in my stomach loosening. Maybe their heightened positivity thing wasn’t a shtick, after all. The girl, as well as the other members of the team seemed genuinely happy to see me trying out. “What’s your name?” Her voice reverberated off of the walls, and I was suddenly aware of a dozen other students watching me.
“Alex.” I said, offering a shy wave. “Hey.”
Still grinning, she nudged a redhead next to her playfully. The guy was like no other I’d seen before. He was a god damn traffic light. He was easy to spot in a crowd and was usually one of the low-key members who kept his head down. All of those colours painting him, and yet somehow he wasn’t blinding people.
Though admittedly, he suited them; bright red hair clashing with the blue and gold of his football jersey, pasty skin and dark eyes drinking me in while the blonde girl pulled at his sleeve. “See, I told you annoying freshmen would work!”
In response, he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Evie.” The guy straightened up, leaning his chin on his fist, a curious spark in his eyes. “Alright.” Twisting around in his chair, he signalled for music. When it started, the beat slammed into me, rumbling under my feet. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”
I’m not going to describe my routine because I don’t have time to describe how fucking bad I was. In my head, I was doing okay. I was ready to finish with my back flip, but the music abruptly cut off and I found myself struggling to find my breath with my hands in the air, panting like an idiot. The blonde maintained her smile, but it was slightly strained. I could tell she was struggling to keep the façade of a Sunbeam member while also retaining critical thinking.
The redhead looked like he was in pain. He was first to speak, and I could tell by his sympathy smile I’d screwed up. The others who I hadn’t fully taken in until that moment, an asian American guy, and a girl with pigtails, were laughing like pre-schoolers. And they didn’t stop until the redhead shot them the warning eyes.
Weirdly enough, the crowd of onlookers didn’t join in. I expected the redhead to politely tell me I sucked, but instead he cocked his head, chewing on his pen. “You’re good.” He said. “You’re a good dancer, and I liked your moves…”
He trailed off. “But it’s positivity we’re looking for. And you didn’t smile once through your whole routine which made you look stiff. Like you weren’t even enjoying it.” He shrugged helplessly. “I like you, and I like your dancing. And I’m sure you could be better if you worked on it. There are countless dancing clubs here, so maybe you might be better fitted there.” After exchanging a look with the blonde, he sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re not the type of person we’re looking for.”
Evie nodded. “I agree. We pride ourselves on staying positive and smiling. I didn’t see that on you, Alex.”
“Same here.” Pigtails, still giggling, joined in. “I don’t think you’ve got enough school spirit.”
The other guy scoffed. He looked to be of Korean descent. Unlike the redhead, he was always at the centre of their group, always joking around and laughing. Just looking at him told me he was the leader. “Bullshit!” He slapped the table with one hand, running his hands through thick dark hair with the other. “I liked it. Fuck pep, amirite?” He threw his pen at the blonde, who retaliated in a squeak, lobbing hers at him. “Ignore these clowns. I think you’ve got what it takes. We just gotta work on you, y’know? All you’re missing is a cheesy grin.”
He pointed to himself, stretching his lips into the widest smile he could muster. “See? Like this.”
“Clowns?” Evie shook her head. “I didn’t see one smile. Sunbeam is all about smiling!”
“You make us sound like a cult.” The Korean-American caught my eye. “Which we’re not, by the way. These guys are just scared of change.”
“Okay, that’s too far.” Pigtails shot him a scowl. Are you seriously disrespecting the alumni who created us? Who birthed us?
“Well, yeah!” He threw his paper at her. “Sunbeam is a pep cult. We get high off of happiness. I thought we distinguished that.”
“Take that back!”
“Never! Why do you think I joined? To get high! Do you really think I joined for the cheering?”
They were joking around. I could tell by the smiles on their faces—a smile I knew I would never be able to mimic.
“Quiet.” The redhead shushed them. The guy had been sitting silently. Studying me. He leaned back, folding his arms.
“See, even now—even when I’m considering giving you a chance, there’s no hope in your eyes. Not even a glitter of excitement. You’re still not smiling and that’s what we want, Alex. We want people who will embody what Sunbeam is all about. Even if I give you a second chance to brighten up your routine your smile will be fake. And that’s not what we want. We want people who are willing to shed their humanity and become beacons.”
Beacons, huh?
And they were seriously saying they weren’t a cult?
The redhead stabbed at his sheet of paper with the end of his pen. “Can’t you just give us one smile? It won’t kill you.”
It was then when the others watching started to laugh—and I wanted to punch the asshole in the face.
“Dude, chill.” The Korean-American played with his pen, twirling it between two fingers. “He’s right, as much as I hate saying it. We do need smilers, unfortunately. But hey, you can try out next year! Just remember to smile, alright?” He threw something at me. A squashed candy bar.
Which made me look even more pathetic.
I found myself nodding, even when I knew it was all bullshit. Still though, what each member had told me hit me harder than it should have. They were just words, what could they do? It turned out, words were far more powerful than I realised—I just didn’t know it yet. I didn’t wait for the others to speak and made a quick getaway, my gut twisting and turning.
They were a cult. That is what I decided. These guys were a cult who needed members willing to throw away their souls. Probably for ritualistic sacrifice.
They needed weak people, I thought. Even when part of me knew they were right. I wasn't a smiler. Every photo I'm in, I'm either frowning or look constipated. Still though, I didn't dwell on the try-outs for too long. By the time a week had gone by, I had mostly forgotten about it and threw myself into my studies and college life.
Though something was wrong with me. It was as if the world had slowed down, had stopped making sense completely. Every day felt like a dream, and I myself felt like I was a ghost, like I was disassociating from my own body. Conversations with people felt fake. Like I was making them up.
I remember waking up day after day in a daze I couldn’t get myself out of. It was only several weeks later did the thick mind fog which had been blanketing my brain finally lift—only for me to hear the news that all six members of the Sunbeam squad had disappeared. I don’t know how I didn’t notice, how I didn’t see the police investigation, or hear rumours being spread around like wildfire.
According to the college, it wasn't technically considered a disappearance since the members were all over eighteen, no longer minors. However, an investigation was conducted, with a statement being released that they were due to be performing at Knoxville College, cheering on our football team. But they never turned up. And what made it worse, was their bus was found abandoned on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Sounds bad, right?
Well, that's what we all thought. Vigils were already being held, and bodies weren't even found yet. Every time I walked back to my dorm after classes, the night would be lit up in warm golden light, candles flickering in the breeze. I'm not sure how many days had gone by-- they all seemed to blur into one-- when our college made another statement. The members of the Sunbeam squad were alive and healthy and had been sent to a training academy for professionals.
When the student body responded with confusion and scepticism, the college reassured us they were coming back once they were finished training. And while my classmates were relieved, I found myself confused. Sunbeam didn't cheer competitively. Their whole thing was that all they wanted to do was spread cheer and pep, regardless of how good they were. I had seen them perform, and they were good, sure. They were better than average. But definitely not good enough to be trained into pro’s. Their moves were too clumsy, too half assed—which I was convinced they thought overwhelming amounts of positivity could fix. So it didn’t make sense that they had been sent to some training academy. I kept up my scepticism until I saw them for myself.
The college were right. Sunbeam returned a week later like nothing had happened.
I did see a change in them. I think that was a universal opinion though. Sunbeam were well known for their pep and cheer, their constant smiling faces which drove me crazy—and it’s not like that stopped. They still smiled. They still walked around campus laughing together, in their own little world. That was when people were watching. When they had an audience. I caught them when they didn’t have an audience. Without eyes on them, they detached from each other, their eyes darkening, expressions twisting, like each of them could smell something rotten in the air. I started noticing they were getting progressively clumsier at keeping up that Sunbeam façade they must have pledged when they joined the group. I figured it was just tiredness. They must have been through some pretty intense training.
Anyway, months went by. I started to feel less distant, and the fog which had been choking me faded, thankfully. I started my junior year moving into a shared house with my roommate, and the only talk I’d heard about Sunbeam was that one of their ex members was rumoured to be pregnant. As for the rest of the squad, they were still popular, still talked about—but their disappearance had definitely made people wary of them. I even heard someone say they were considered bad luck. I guess people thought they had sold themselves out for a chance to get into the big leagues. And it wouldn’t surprise me.
Forced positivity can get you a long way, sure—but recognition can get you further.
It was just a few weeks ago when I was invited to a game. Our first of the season, thanks to delays due to cuts in the sports department. I’m not much of a sports fan, though I needed a distraction from the copious amounts of assignments I’d let pile on my desk.
When I sat down with a chilli dog and Coke, I wasn’t expecting to get so invested in a game where I had no idea what was happening. It was loud and obnoxious and I was choking on the stink of fried food, but it was fun. It was fun until Sunbeam walked out onto the side-lines. I glimpsed them in a blur of blue and gold, and a dull pain crawled across the back of my head. “You okay?” My housemate’s voice was barely distinguishable in my ears, when I found myself transfixed by the way they moved in erratic jumps, quickly taking position. They had gotten better. Everything which was Sunbeam had been stripped away. Their smiles were forced. Wrong.
I remembered they used to push and shove each other, making the crowd laugh. Now though, they were in almost perfect sync in the way they moved, no longer shakily, sometimes stumbling into each other. Their routine was longer than it usually was—and when the Korean-American guy perfected a triple flip, the crowd went crazy. I expected him to smile when he landed, grinning into the audience to generate what Sunbeam was made for. But his expression stayed stoic. Robotic. They were stiff. Heads up, backs straight, staring ahead of them. I was told when I tried out that fake smiles weren’t allowed, and yet that was all I was seeing. I was seeing egotistical grins and curled lips, quick glances between each member.
I expected looks of reassurances, and in jokes only they found funny. Instead, it looked like a mutual agreement.
They were planning something. From the looks on their faces, it wasn’t a firework show.
Sunbeam used to generate happiness. Their smiles, even under a façade, had always been real.
These guys emanated power. The way they stood. The guy’s at the front, readying what I guessed was a lift, and the girl’s on top of them.
Their routine ended with the music reaching a climax, and the two main girl’s being lifted into the air while performing High V’s.
But they didn’t stop there.
When the crowd exploded with applause, one of the girl’s slowly raised her arms and shot into the crowd with finger guns.
She shot twice—and with every time she pulled that imaginary trigger, her painted lips stretched into a maniacal grin.Until her gaze was on me. And then behind me. I could see it in her glittering eyes I could no longer call human. I met Evie at the start of my freshman year, and then at the disastrous try-outs.
I knew her wide smile, and the glint of passion twisting her expression—a love for the group and the members she couldn’t put into words. Right then I wasn’t seeing Evie, a Sunbeam cheerleader. I was seeing something else entirely, a being scanning faces in the crowd for a victim.
Her expression seemed to melt, from a gleeful grin, to something twisted and putrid, someone who craved the exact opposite of what Sunbeam preached. I watched her lips. I watched the words pop into existence, drowned into nothing by the crowds cheering. But I saw them in perfect clarity. “Drop.” She said, before pulling the imaginary trigger again.
No sooner had the words left her mouth before someone screamed behind me. I twisted around to see a guy had collapsed. He was pronounced dead five minutes later by his sobbing girlfriend who had attempted CPR. When I twisted back to look out onto the field, the Sunbeam Squad were gone. It didn’t make sense that they were the ones to cause the guy’s death—but it couldn’t have been a coincidence, right? Evie had shot into the crowd at the exact same time the guy had dropped dead. Finger guns weren’t a weapon of course, but the timing was too coincidental. I already knew there was something wrong with Sunbeam. And this just strengthened my claims.
Obviously, when I tried to tell people this, I was called crazy. Delusional. I reported it to the student information building and just got a blank stare.
The woman wasn’t even attempting to hear my story. She just heard “murder” and “Sunbeam” and her lips curved into an amused smirk. “You know, you are quite fascinating,” leaning back against her chair, the woman frowned at me through wonky glasses. "First you unexpectedly quit, and then you accuse them of murder. Which I can tell you is false.”
She flipped through a notebook in front of her. “According to the autopsy report released a few days ago, the young man died of a brain haemorrhage, not the result of being pretend shot at by a cheerleader miming finger-guns.” The woman cleared her throat.
“Tell me, what exactly do you have against the Sunbeam squad?"
“What?”
“You quit the squad at the end of your freshman year,” she said, “And now you’re trying to accuse them of murder? Fascinating.”
Her words struck me, a shiver sliding down my spine. The office was cosy, and when I sunk into the rich leather of the couch in front of a roaring fire I recognised the book on her desk. It was a dog eared copy of Harry Potter. I’d seen it before. But that was impossible. I had never been in her office. “Quit?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t…” I trailed off, stumbling over my words. “I’ve never been part of Sunbeam.”
“Were you not?” She shook her head, a crease forming between her brows. “Ah, I must be getting you mixed up with someone else.”
I nodded. “Just… can you just listen to me? That Evie girl was fucking—”
She cut me off. “Language.”
“Sorry. Evie. She was… I don’t know what she was doing... she was doing like... like magic?”
“Are you sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Yes!"
“Mmm hmm.” The woman cleared her throat, dismissing my protests. “I’m not a doctor, but If you’re experiencing memory loss and confusion, I suggest you go to the hospital. As for your ludicrous claims, you should keep them to yourself. That poor young man died due to a brain haemorrhage. Terrible and tragic, yes. But it was accidental, and not the work of… I’m sorry, what were you claiming it to be?”
“Magic.” I said, again.
When she raised her brow, I couldn’t resist a groan. “I saw her! She shot into the crowd and mouthed something!”
“She… mouthed something?”
“Yes! But—"
Again, her words sliced into mine. “Okay, let’s say you were right,” she said. “If you are saying this girl shot into the crowd with her imaginary gun, wouldn’t it be a gun shot which would have killed him? You said it yourself—, it was some kind of witchy magic to kill him. So, where was the bullet wound?” When I tried to speak, she raised her arm to shut me up.
“Exactly. There was none. Because the man suffered a haemorrhagic stroke, and nothing could be done to save him. Your claims a group of young people carried this out as a murder is not only blatant defamation, but also disrespectful to the young man and his family. Now, please leave my office. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” The woman nodded for me to stand up. “I think you have been watching too much TV. Might I suggest focusing on your studies?”
I left her office, slamming the door.
My housemate wasn’t helpful when I told him. He told me I was maybe a little too obsessed with Sunbeam. He headed to work, and I ended up in the lounge trying to focus on an episode of Criminal Minds. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Evie.
I saw what she said.
Drop.
But it wasn’t the force of her imaginary finger-guns ricocheting back. It was the word. Drop.
It had been alive on her lips like it was a sentient thing bleeding into existence. I managed to fall asleep, twisted like a pretzel in my housemate’s favourite chair, when three loud knocks on the door tore me from slumber. I was on my feet, blinking, disoriented. It was rare when we got a visitor. Stumbling over to the door, I had a moment of hesitation. I imagined Evie on the other side.
I imagined her raising her arm and shooting her pretend finger-guns directly into my head.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see three little kids. The youngest must have been maybe nine years old. To my surprise, they were dressed in Halloween costumes. There was a little witch, a ghost, and a scarecrow all carrying pumpkin shaped holders It took me a moment to realise I was staring at a group of Trick or Treaters. It wasn’t even mid-October yet.
“Hey there,” I said, “Uh, you guys are a little early.”
The little girl’s eyes were wide and unblinking. “We want candy.” She held out her candy holder. “Now.”
I decided to be firm with them. “It’s not Halloween.” I said, taking a small step back. I was grasping the handle, ready to slam it in their faces. These little shits were freaking me out. Not just their tone, but their expressions were vacant. There were no lights on and that terrified me. “Sorry kids, I don’t have any candy. But like I said, come back when it’s actually Halloween, and I’ll have candy bars for all of you. "
What I wasn’t expecting was for the Scarecrow to pull a knife out of his pumpkin shaped candy holder. He didn’t hold it like a kid should, clumsily, confused. There was a strategic way the way his fingers were wrapped around the handle—like he’d brandished one before. The kid held the knife up to his own neck and made a slicing motion. Like the little girl, his eyes were blank. Unblinking. There was something wrong in the way he was standing. Stiff, like a puppet on strings. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He squeaked out a laugh. I didn’t see him lunge forward, I was already moving back, stumbling, losing my footing.
The kid moved with impossible speed—and before I knew what was happening, the hilt of the knife was buried in my lower leg. I didn’t even feel pain. My body was being driven by adrenaline, pushing me to get away from him. I remember falling back. I remember my own trembling hands grasping hold of the handle and pulling out the knife. Red was pooling down my jeans and onto our hardwood floor. The little kids turned around and ran back down the steps into the night, and I watched them in a sort of daze.
They didn’t move like normal.
They stalked down the sidewalk like video game characters. The witch shoved a passing old man before pulling out a gun and pointing it at his head. But she didn’t shoot. The three of them ran off—and it was only when I was watching the top of the girl’s witch hat disappear into the night, when I glimpsed something—or someone—at the corner of my eye.
Before I heard laughter. The tree in front of me moved. At first I thought they were shadow’s. Before the shadows bled into figures. Four of them. I glimpsed the school colours. Blue and Gold. I saw twin ponytails, velvet and blonde-- as well as the tell-tale Sunbeam varsity jacket. The group were laughing, whispering to each other. Not exactly doing a good job of hiding. When they slipped from their hiding place, I recognised Evie. Her fingers gingerly on her nose while intense red pooled down her chin.
The others were the same, swiping at their faces with jacket sleeves. They didn’t seem fazed. The redhead’s gaze was latched onto the retreating children, his lips curling. I could sense he was still tethered to them. He was still commanding them to act out grand theft auto. They had caused the man’s death at the game and had controlled those children.
I wasn’t crazy or delusional. Evie had killed someone by simply shooting imaginary finger guns, and somehow the others were able to bleed into children’s heads, taking them over.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I heaved out a breath. The pain was starting to hit in waves I had to grit through. I couldn’t move. I was stuck, curled up on my floor. While they laughed.
I was halfway through stabbing 911 into my phone when one of them came over. It was the Korean-American. The one who had been the nicest to me out of all of them. The real smile I remembered was gone, replaced by something inhuman. Something I didn’t want to question.
With his hands stuffed in his varsity jacket pockets, he approached me with mocking eyes, almost an attempt at trying to mimic his old self.
The guy knelt in front of me with a chuckle. “Kids these days, right? They’re animals.”
His voice, no, his words, were hurting me. I felt each one penetrate me like gunshots.
My wound wasn’t bad. That’s what I estimated, anyway. I don’t think the kid had hit anything vital. But I needed the emergency room. I still had one hand grasping at my side, drenched in red.
I managed a hiss, grasping for my phone when he pulled it out of my grasp and waved it in the air. “Fuck off. What did you do to those little kids?” I gritted out, trying to reach for my damn phone. I was starting to feel the pain in my side and it hurt like a mother fucker—dizzying bolts of electricity which felt like waves of boiling hot water slamming into me one by one. I tried to get onto my knees, but he pushed me back down again. The guy cocked his head to the side, confusion creasing his expression.
“Ouch. That must hurt.”
"What did you... what did you do?" I hissed out.
His presence was hurting me. Every time he opened his mouth, it was agony. Somehow, it was worse than the stab-wound. This kind of pain was no other I’d felt before. The type I’d rather die than feel. A cry was clawing at my throat, fight or flight taking over. Again, I tried to move, I tried to get away from him. But he was holding down my arms and prodding at my side before sticking his finger in the cut and twisting. "I didn't do anything, Alex.”
His voice barely hit me when my vision blurred and I screamed. Like a fucking animal, I screamed. But not because his fingers were digging around in my insides.
Because my brain was suddenly boiling, a metal rod piercing my skull and stirring it into a soupy mess. His voice was inside me. It was bleeding into me, taking over me. But not just his voice. The world blurred around me and I was no longer in my doorway, bleeding out against the wall.
Instead, I was moving. I was… I was walking. No, I was being dragged. Except these weren’t my memories. This wasn’t my mind. I could see bare feet beneath me delicately slapping on white tiles. When I looked up, I saw an expanse of white like I was being led straight into the clouds. This was a building. There were glass doors and electronic panels, people in black guarding each one. It took a while for me to gain my senses—or him to gain his.
We could smell something like chlorine and taste rusty coins at the back of our throat. Feel the ice cold tiles against our bare toes. A strange feeling at the back of our head. We kept wanting to run our fingers through our hair, but every time we did, our fingers only touched bare skin. Scuffed and rigged skin. Tight fingers were wrapped around our arm, dragging us further and further into a white oblivion. Until a glass door seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
From now on, I am going to describe his memories very vaguely. I’m just going to tell you what I saw.
The room we walked into reminded me of a classroom—but there were no desks. In front of me were the other members of Sunbeam pressed against the back wall. They faced forwards, their gazes penetrating nothing. But I saw they were trembling. Terrified. The squad were dressed in pale white shorts and t-shirt, ugly red spattering the front. There were still traces of blue and glitter on their faces, ribbons hanging from bedraggled curls.
Their feet were bare and filthy like ours. When we were shoved forwards, we took our place next to Evie who had half of her hair shaved off. Her arms were folded across her cheer uniform, her bare feet tapping a beat against the floor. When a woman with dark red hair held in a strict ponytail entered and asked if either of us wanted to show her what we had learned, Evie eagerly raised her hand. “Okay, Evie.” The woman’s voice was too sweet. Sickly sweet. She gestured for the girl forward. “Show us what you’ve got.”
The door opened, and a man stepped through. His hands were tied in front of him, his eyes blank.
Evie nodded, her eyes set in determination. She cleared her throat. “Shatter.”
Nothing happened.
“Intent, Evie.” The woman said. “It doesn’t matter how you say the word unless you use proper intent. Try again.”
The girl did, growling in frustration.
"Shatter.”
The man’s head flew from his torso suddenly in a river of red, and the girl squeaked in excitement.
While we watched in horror, the rest of the squad gave in to their own despair.
Different days bled into one—and we watched faces change. Heads were shaved. Hair grew back. Fear turned to joy.
A blonde girl exploded into bloody chunks, splattering against the walls.
“Yes!” The redhead high-fived pigtails, the two of them locked into some bizarre handshake. “That’s what I’m TALKING about!”
“Bang!” One of the girls used finger guns, and with each “shot” innocents dropped against the wall one by one, their heads blown through.
She jumped up and down in glee. “Bang, bang, bang!”
“Keep going,” the voice of the woman crackled through the speaker. “You’ve almost got it.”
“Divide.” Pigtails used her pointer finger at an old man who was skewed by an invisible force sending bloody chunks of him to the floor.
"Show off.” The redhead said in a sing-song voice. He was slumped against the back wall using his jersey to wipe blood from his face while the others painted the room scarlet. With simple words of intent and a hand gesture, they were able to take people apart piece by piece.
Pigtails snorted when another “test subject” was brought in. "Oh, you think you can do better?”
“Think I can? I know I can.”
This time he plunged two fingers into his temples. He was centre stage, the others against the back wall with their arms folded.
“Rip it out.”
The test subject’s eyes widened, her trembling hands clawing at her own head, fingernails digging into flesh. “Rip…rip it out?”
His lip curved. “That’s what I said.”
We didn’t see the test subject rip her own brain from her skull. We were already burying our head into our knees and screeching into the floor. Another flash. Like watching a movie.
This time we’re cutting into our wrist with shards of glass. Pulling back fleshy flaps of our flesh, there are two wires entangled with muscle and bone. One red and one blue. “Why won’t you submit?” A sharp growl, and I can feel our body pressed against metal. Our arms are restrained. “Out of all of them, you refuse it.” A hand slaps our face. “You don’t want it!”
He started to laugh.
“You don’t want… control?”
He leaned his face closer. “Tell me to mutilate myself. Tell me to… to tear out my brain stem! That’s the beauty of it! No matter how impossible the order is, it will be completed! Control, my boy. Use it. Do you even understand how much you are going to shape the world? Words! Do you know how powerful they are? When said from the right mouth, with the right intent, they can cause bloodshed, pain and misery-- a despair drowning our already shattered earth. And you will be the centre of it. You will bring this world to its knees, Jason."
"Now, do it. We call it cutting, but you will find familiarity in referring to it as erasure. You can make up your own words if you would like. What matters is the intent.” I feel something slicing into our arm. It’s nothing medical. It’s torture. He plunges something sharp into the same spot and twists the blade until we throw our head back and scream at the ceiling.
“You’re the last one.” The man hissed. “Do it.”
“No.” I heard his—our—voice. “I… I can’t!”
“Do it!”
He’s dragging us again, forcing us down a long winding corridor until we reach another door.
"Drown." The boy - - Jason's-- voice was suddenly in my head. I could sense it was trying to hold back, attempting to peel back whatever power his own words had. But the word came again and again until it was suffocating his mouth. “Drown. Drown. Drown. Drown.” We were standing in the doorway of a smaller room. In the corner there was a figure curled up with their head pressed against the wall.
It was a guy.
I recognised our school colours, a bloodied varsity jacket over shorts and t-shirt. When he lifted his head and twisted to face the boy whose mind I was in, I noticed he had an uncanny resemblance to me. His eyes wide, frightened. They were my mother's.
This guy looked exactly like me.
No, it WAS me.
My eyes were shadowed and haunted.
Like I had been drained of everything I was.
As quickly as the memories came crashing into me, they were yanked away when the guy must have pulled back.
I blinked rapidly, and Jason looked as confused as me. Slowly, he pulled his finger from my cut. The man's voice was in my skull, and it was agonising. I felt the command in my head, my body instantly reacting to... to nothing. I had my hands out, ready to do.... do something.
"That was… just a trick,” He said. “Yeah! Just a trick!”
I found myself nodding, echoing his words. Something warm ran from my nose.
"Just... a trick..." I whispered, the words forced from my lips.
Blood spattered down my chin.
“Louder.” He said.
"JUST A TRICK!" I yelled, the force of the wail sending me my knees, panting. The guy was frowning, seemingly unsure what to do with me.
He wrapped up my wound and told me it wasn’t bad—and it wasn’t. I watched in disbelief as my skin stitched itself back together.
"Go into your kitchen." Jason said, and I felt the power of his words ripping through me like bullets. My body moved on its own, and I got to my feet and stepped into my kitchen. He followed me, grabbing a scarf off of the table.
"Get on your knees." I did, dropping to my knees, my breath in my throat, my mouth sealed shut. I could sense the others in the doorway as he wrapped the scarf around my eyes, the heel of his shoe slamming into my neck forcing me onto my stomach.
"I want you to wait for me to kill you."
His words pierced into me. I did. Even when I knew he was gone, the door slamming shut-- I waited. I waited until the next morning, until I regained control over my own body and pulled the scarf from my eyes. I'm still waiting, my brain in constant panic, twisting around when I'm alone, looking into every corner.
I was roped into going to Friday's game against Harrington. During Sunbeam’s routine, they did it again. They had the crowd's attention, and Evie was mouthing something. I felt her words, sharp like needles cutting into me. But they didn't penetrate. They have done something to the student body. Ever since, I’ve been catching looks around me. Those whose heads they have crawled into. Mindless eyes. Every so often an arm will touch mine, fingers will wrap around my neck. I can hear their feet pitter pattering after me. Those little kids from that night. I keep seeing the little witch girl in the corner of my eye. They’re creating an army who are coming for me once he decides to kill me.
If only I knew what happened to the Sunbeam squad. Maybe I can help them somehow.
But something tells me they’re way past help.
And so am I.
I wonder if one day, I might be allowed a glimpse of my memories. What really happened to me during my freshman year.
And why, ever since going into his mind, I dream of a white room.

I remember an episode of Poirot where I think the main murder investigated was a poisoning with plants from the deceased's garden, a cat got poisoned as well, which is how Poirot solved it. There was a male character and I remember him because I didn't know his name was gender neutral before that episode, but I can't remember the name and it's annoying me quite a lot. The character was pretty eccentric and I think he was the brother of the deceased or his wife. I think his name began with a C or an A, can anyone help? It was from the David Suchet version. Thanks!

Hi! I’m a 22 year old submissive female, seeking Dominant female for role play.
I play as myself, in first person. I’m 5’ 2” 85 pounds (I’m really petite) B-cup, size 5 feet, long dark blonde hair and brown eyes.
Don’t just send a replay to the starter, say hi and let’s discuss plots and kinks, then we can jump in. Here are some starter plots/scenarios that I’m interested in playing…
The pickup: I’m walking back from the beach on a hot summer evening. The hot wind blowing my hair as I walk along the desolate back road away from the beach. Walking in nothing more that a little white bikini, the soles of my barefeet stained black from walking barefoot on the asphalt, “Damn it’s really hot” I continue to walk down the long, deserted road…
This plot could go a lot of ways, I’m pretty willing, submissive and naive, so I don’t really like anything forced. Maybe you target me because of the way I look, maybe you like feet abs target me because I’m barefoot. Definitely lots of possibilities. Maybe you’re gonna keep me all to yourself, locking me up in your basement or secret dungeon. We can work out a scenario
The farm: I’m coming to your farm in the Deep South, it’s a hot, humid, moonless night. I already know this isn’t a ‘normal’ farm and I’m not ordinary farm help. I already know what’s in store for me. Under the cover of darkness, I make my way from the town deep into the countryside. Bringing nothing with me as instructed, I make my way to your farm in nothing but the little black bikini you sent me prior to this arrangement. I spot the farmhouse and make my way towards the porch light, “that’s the farm” my barefeet kicking up dust as I walk up the dust road…
Another fun plot I like. I love dirty places so a farm is awesome. Maybe I had seen your ad online about being kept and used for breast milking, maybe you’re just looking for a girl to keep her ankles and wrists in those old rusty slave shackles you don’t have keys for, maybe you’re just sadistic and you’re going to use and torture me. Let’s work out the details!
Meeting online: Meeting a partner online is the norm nowadays, I found your posting about looking for a girl, which was very appealing to me and too good to pass up. After some email exchange, you offer to take me…permanently. I excitedly accept and being the trip to your destination. Walking to the address, wearing a white tank top, no bra, a short black skirt, white panties and barefoot, I walk towards the door “this is it, no turning back now” I say to myself as I ring the doorbell…
This is really open ended. Did you offer to keep me in your dungeon? Maybe you have an asylum where I’m going to be kept, so many different ideas here.
The road/camping trip: We’ve been planning this for a long time, a summer trip. I’m excited and can’t wait for you to get home. I’m waiting around in my white bikini, already packed for the trip with my shall bag. Considering how long the trip is, I packed very little. “I can wait until she gets home” I say eagerly awaiting you…
This is more a non bdsm related plot but we can definitely include it! Maybe we card going camping deep in the woods, or by a lake, maybe tent camping in the rolling hills and we have to hike in. Let’s figure out an awesome trip!
The BDSM resort: Being the kinky girl I am, I naturally stumbled onto a kinky resort. I eagerly book a month long excursion into my ultimate desires. I arrive and check in. Off the lobby is the holding room. A grey, bare room with a locker and bench, I close the door and open my locker. Inside the locker is a pair of handcuffs and ankle cuffs, the chain in just long enough for me to walk. I place all my belongings and clothing in the locker and close it “I should be out in a month” I say to myself, knowing there is no turning back. I sit on the floor and lock the cuffs around my ankles, followed by cuffing my hands behind my back, following instructions, I wait on the timer for my host to enter, little did I know, I’d be here much longer than a month…
So much fun. What a vacation! But what’s in store for me? Did I sign up for multiple things, where I would be kept and how? Maybe I signed up to be kept in one place and one kind of restraint/position the whole time? How did I end up there longer? Maybe as punishment for something, violating the rules of a session, a computer glitch? Let’s come up with something together!
My kinks are, but not limited to: Bondage, Cuffs, Shackles, Mummification, Stocks/pillory, Straightjackets, Chastity, Bastinado, Tickling, Plugs, Gags, Oral, Anal, Vibrators, Dildos, Hoods, Blindfolds, Pee/scat, Barefeet (I love going barefoot and getting my feet dirty, I’m a regular barefooter) Foot worship (barefeet) sensory depravation, hoods, blindfolds, branding, tattoo, name calling, dirty talk, impact play, dirty/musk, verbal humiliation, Long term/permanent chastity, Long term/permanent bondage, Long term/permanent captivity/imprisonment, Predicament bondage, Kidnapping, Isolation, Being kept as a captive/prisoner, Stuck fetish (eg, having my feet stuck in mud, clay, tar, cement, quicksand, glue, etc)
Hard limits: Footwear (I stay barefoot), animals, drugs, broken bones, males,
Places I like to be kept: Dungeon, Basement, Garage, Farm, Old prison, Old asylum
I’m sure I left things out, so if you don’t see a particular kink or you have questions, please ask.
Only looking to roleplay with females, trans or futa as long as it’s not focused on a certain body part and it doesn’t go right to that.
All characters are 18+
I use Reddit chat
Kik: barefootslavegirl01
Discord: barefoot👣slavegirl#2957

Good afternoon/morning/evening/day/night fellow people, today, I shall introduce you to a game called Pizza Tower.
I am sure you have seen some part of this game before, whether that be trough memes, gameplay, or even from the banger ost. It’s a 2D platformer inspired by the wario land series about an italian called “Peppino Sphagetti” knocking over John the Pillar(s) to save his pizza place. It’s got a goofy and memorable art-style, easy to grasp but hard to master gameplay, and a story even a 3 year old can comprehend. The game feels like as if you are playing as a cartoon character from a show in the 90’s. It’s really fun and I recommend everyone to give it a try, you can even download a free demo from the creator, just google “Pizza Tower SAGE 2019 Demo” and it’ll pop right up. And even if you try the game and it isn’t up your valley, I’d still strongly recommend you still check out a few tracks from the ost, some of my favourites are “Pizza Time”, “Cold Sphagetti”, “Peppino’s Sauce Machine”, and of course “Unexpectancy Parts 1-3”, they are serious bangers, trust me. I literally can’t pick out even a single track out of the whole OST that I wouldn’t vibe to all day.
Now onto my personal connection to this game. I first discovered the game around when the 2019 demo just came out and vinesauce was playing the crap out of it. Upon watching onky like 10 minutes of gameplay, I was already in love with the artstyle, but I scoffed the game off thinking it would be a failed project or a very underrated indie gem. It was not until around january-march of this year when I came across the old videos of vinesauce playing this game, and I couldn’t help but find out if the game went anywhere. Come to find out the game was about to release in a few months after being in development for over 5 years. Of course I was pleasantly surprised. Then I forgot about it a week later until I saw someone’s livestream of the full game on the day of the release. From then on I was a full on Pizza Tower fanboy. I watched at least 5 different people play the full game, joined the official subreddit (which went from like 2,000 members to 20,000 in less than a month after I joined), and downloaded every demo of the game I could ever get my hands on. Unfortunately, as much as I would’ve liked to support Mc.Pig (the main and the only developer and artist), I got anything but money to spend. I did manage to find an older build that is close to the final game, but a lot rougher around the edges and without the story or the bosses. I can’t help myself but feel like a fraud for loving this game but not actually owning it. I even managed to get a few P ranks on a few levels (which are very hard to do).
Overall I believe Pizza Tower is an amazing indie gem of the 21st century and everyone and their mothers should at least give it try even if they despise 2D platformers and Italians. Even if I never get to own the game, I hope I made at least 1 person try out the game and maybe support the creator by buying the game themselves. If you are reading this, I am really thankful that you took time out of your day to read this skyscraper of text I spat out and have a good day/night/morning/afternoon.
Here is the link to the game’s page: https://store.steampowered.com/app/2231450/Pizza_Towe
And here’s my steam account cuz it’s apparently required: https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198827262979/

You all have inspired me to relate a story from way back when I was a much younger man.
Setting: The mid 1990's, mid-sized city on the East Coast of the U.S.
I was a college student who normally wore the traditional late teen/early 20's male uniform of worn jeans, band t-shirt covered by plaid flannel, and Chuck Taylor All-Star high tops of varying colors.
I was enjoying my Sophomore year at my small college when I was tasked with an oral report in my current literature class. I knew the material, spoke often in class, and engaged well with the teacher and my classmates. Things were good.
I decided that for the presentation, I would actually put an effort into my appearance. I shaved that morning, put on the few dress clothes that I had brought from home, and even wore a tie. I thought that I cleaned up pretty well.
The presentation was well received, and I felt good about how everything went, so after class I decided to walk myself across the street to partake of a rented movie from the local Blockbuster video rental store.
*For those too young to remember, once upon a time you had to physically go to a store and choose a movie to watch, rent a VHS or DVD copy, and return it to the store when you were done.
*It was actually a really fun experience, and was even more fun when they started to rent video games as well.
*It also made you choose something you may not have chosen otherwise when your first choice was out.
*For further information on this topic, I recommend the film "Be Kind, Rewind," starring Mos Def (Yasiin Bey), Jack Black, and Danny Glover.
As I perused the store, I noticed that a couple of boxes were out of place, so I put them back in order as I decided what to watch that evening. An older woman turned to me and asked, "Excuse me young man, but I am taking care of my grandkids tonight and was wondering if this movie was appropriate?"
"Oh, 'Goonies?' That is a classic! There are a couple of scary parts for the younger kids, but it is nothing worse than what they would see in a cartoon. They should really like it." She thanked me and was on her way.
Another woman asked where the romantic comedies were, so I directed her to them. A man asked me my opinion of John Carpenter's "The Thing."
"Wow," I thought to myself. "My professional appearance must exude cinematic knowledge and expertise! People can't stop themselves from asking my opinion on film! Maybe I should put more of an effort in to dressing well."
As I approached the counter with my selection, I was brought out of my contemplation by the sight of the Blockbuster assistant manager behind the register.
He was wearing a blue button-down shirt, tan trousers, a brown leather belt and loafers, and a tie.
I was wearing a blue button-down shirt, tan trousers, a brown leather belt and loafers, and a tie.
The realization hit me. "OH. Ooooohhh. ..oh..."
TLDR: I thought that my professional appearance and vast knowledge of movies was attracting people to me for advice, when it turned out that I was just the moron who tried to impress his American Romanticism class by dressing like a Blockbuster employee.
As I have been on Reddit for a couple of months, I know that it is important to inform all of you that I am currently in therapy for this traumatic event and have been NC with Blockbuster for nearly 20 years!

One thing that always bugged me when using SillyTavern is that i either need to explain myself in the characters description through some way, or explain it to them in the chat themselves while we chatting. Im also a poe user so the most roleplay happens using the ST generated introduction text. Isnt it theoretically possible to add a feature, where you can Explain your Persona (eg. Visible appearance and personality) Inside of the Personal user tab, and that could be added to every Jailbreak text, so that the AI automatically knows who i am without explaining myself to them.
This could be very comfortable to use for characters that lore-wise already know someone, but i would also maybe add a feature to it where you can disable your own pre-character lore (in situations where the scenario features meeting someone newly).
Ways this could happen is to either Feature 2 Boxes on where to add a description of the persona you're roleplaying as yourself.
-------------
1: Visible appearance: "Eg. Blue eyes and Blonde Hair, Male and a black suit" (When you meet someone lore-wise that they can know how you look in a realistic manner, without the need to put personal characteristics inside their character description or tell them how you look in chat)
2: Deep Characteristics: "Eg. Name is Micheal Smith, Caring and Computer Nerd" (Information they will only know when either lore-wise you have met them) ------------
Number 1 will ALWAYS be active and put inside the introduction text, where poe will know what to roleplay as. Best used in scenarios where Bot and User hasn't met. (Since realistically people with eyes can look at you and know how you look without you needing to tell them that ur male)
Number 2 is going to be a toggleable memory towards the opposing AI, best used in scenarios where a connection between Bot and User has already been made. (If ur in a friendship between bot lore-wise so that they will remember stuff about your personality without you needing to tell them or add in the character description.
With that feature in mind i would also make a "Personal Character Creator" Where you can have up to 5 (or more) Characters that represent you, or the person you want to roleplay as.

Did she even know he had a gun? She couldn't be so naive as to believe he would turn to the authorities since Tony has cops in his pockets. What did she think was going to happen? That the chef was going to succeed where those two unidentified black males failed?
She a stunad or somethin'?

Hello,
I am looking for Rp partner and new friends. Indeed, I am looking for partners for Rp on the long term only. Please don't ghost, if you're busy let me know. Just as I would for you. I am looking for people who are sympathetic, kind, and understanding of my handicap.
I'm looking for people who would accept to play canon characters for my Oc women. I can do double Rp without any problem. Please don't play the canon too OOC. I would also make efforts on my side. We will always find an arrangement 🙂
I am French so please be patient with my English.
Some of my scenarios require the person to play multiple canon characters, as some of my Oc's are polyamorous. But in very unic case I'll be ok for you to play just one.
Lot of my prompts are alternative universe and I don't follow the canon stories 100%.
I am only looking for people 18+ because I am an adult myself.
Here are the fandoms I'm looking for:
*****Video games *********

• Zelda: I'm looking for someone who would play Sidon, or a male zora for me. But also a bird man (I can't find the English name), or a yiga man. Or Dark Link.
  
• FF VII: I'm looking for Rufus, Tseng, Reno, Rude. Or Sephiroth.
  
• FF VIII: I'm looking for Biggs and Wedge. Or a male Oc Galbadian.
  
• FF XV: I'm looking for someone who would play Ardyn Izunia
  
• Animal crossing NH: I'm looking for Tom Nook
  
• Sonic: I am looking for Shadow
  
• Mario: I'm looking for Bowser or Luigi
  
• Rune factory 4: I'm looking for Dylas, Vishnal
  
• Rune factory 5: I'm looking for Murakumo, Ryker, Reinhard, Luca
  
• Monster hunter stories 2: I am looking for Zellard
  
• Resident Evil - I'm looking for Albert Wesker
  
• Metal Gear Solid I - I'm looking for Johnny Sasaki
  
• Devil My cry - I'm looking for Dante and/or Vergil
  
• Tales of Symphonia - I'm looking for someone to play a Oc desian (male)
  
• Tales of Xillia - I'm looking for someone to play Alvin, Wingul, Gaius
  
• Tales Of Zestria - I'm looking for someone to play Dezel, Zaveid
  

***Manga/Anime *********

• Demon Slayer: I'm looking for these characters Obanai Iguro, Tengen Usui, Kyojuro. An male demon Oc. Azaka, kokushibo,
  
• Spy x family : I'm looking for the twin brother Yu Briar
  
• Jujutsu Kaisen: I'm looking for these Satoru Gojo characters
  
• DBZ: I'm looking for these characters Cooler, Perfect Cell
  
• SNK: I'm looking for these characters Erwin and Levi
  
• Tokyo Ghoul: I am looking for Amon, Shuu
  
• One punch man: I'm looking for speed o sound sonic
  
• Hunter x hunter: I'm looking for Feitan
  
• Saint Seiya - I'm looking for Milo or Camu or Canon
  
• Chobit - I'm looking for a male persocon
  Shiki - I'm looking for someone to play a male Shiki or Mutô Tohru
  

*****Movies************ - TWD: I'm looking for Daryl Dixon
*****Caroons************

• TMNT 87: I am looking for Shredder
  
• Highlander (old cartoon): I'm looking for a hunter male Oc
  
• The simpsons: I'm looking for these characters Fat Tony, Legs, Louie, Johnny Tightlips
  

Inside the boundless expanse of Loria Online, Guspy the elven mage drained the last of his mana vaporizing a Vickerbite. It was his third hour of grinding this particular mob, and he was getting tired.
“What’s the drop rate on this thing again?” he asked Collins.
Collins cleaved another Vickerbite with his greataxe. “0.02% or something. Getting bored?”
Guspy was indeed getting bored. Despite their grotesque appearance (they looked like flying crocodile heads with mosquito feet), Vickerbites were pushovers.
“Yeah, I might only have a few minutes’ more patience for this.”
Collins slammed his axe into the ground, causing a shockwave that killed another three. “That’s ok, we’ve been playing for a while. It just kind of feels like wasted time if we quit now, though.”
“Are you getting close to leveling?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither.”
A Vickerbite burst when he swatted it with his staff. A loot bag dropped onto the rust colored dirt.
Probably another Vicker Tongue or leg or something, Guspy thought. He almost didn’t bother to check. But when he did, he found what he and Collins had been seeking for so long.
“I got it! The belt dropped!”
“Thank God, let’s get out of here,” Collins said, regrouping with the mage he protected.
Guspy read the item description for The Belt of Endurance.
The Belt of Endurance Slot: Belt Rarity: Very Rare Earth Resistance: %%0 Air Resistance: %%0 Fire Resistance: %%0 Water Resistance: %%0 Physical Resistance: %%0 Magic Resistance: %%0 Debuff Resistance: %%0
“What the hell?” Guspy said.
“What’s wrong? Is it the wrong belt?” Collins casually swatted two final Vickerbites.
“The stats are glitched or something. It’s supposed to be 5% resistance to everything, right?”
“The BoE? Yeah, 5% resist all. Is it not?”
“It shows ‘percent percent zero’.”
Collins shrugged. “Put it on, see what happens.”
Guspy equipped the belt and checked his character’s stats. “Ha, that’s so weird. All of my resistances show backslash, open parenthesis, ‘N’, close parenthesis.”
Collins used the Warrior’s Assessment ability on Guspy. “Huh. When I analyze you, I see hashtag ‘null’.”
“That’s either really good or really bad,” said Guspy.
Collins raised his sword and struck Guspy on the shoulder.
Collins attacks you for 0 damage
“There are safer ways to check!” Guspy said.
“It didn’t hurt you, weird. Mind if I use a little Fire Fan scroll on you?” Collins asked with a toothy grin.
“You have one? Aren’t you a little over leveled for that?” Fire Fan produced a tiny cone of flame that did very little damage.
“I’m a hoarder. So, can I?” Collins wiggled the scroll between his fingers.
Guspy agreed.
Collins casts Fire Fan for 0 fire damage
“Guspy, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think that belt makes you invincible,” said Collins.
Guspy began to bounce up and down in excitement. “Oh man, think of the possibilities! I can solo raid a guild hall. The Nighthawks deserve that kind of ass whupping,” he said, referring their rival guild in Loria. “Or I can loot an end-game dungeon! We’re not far from The Death Pit.”
Collins looked into Guspy’s eyes and gave him the smile a parent gives a child when they ask where rainbows end.
“Oh, you asshole!” said Guspy.
“I think you should turn it in,” said Collins.
“Why?! Why would I do that?! The Nighthawks have been bullying us for months now. With this, I could walk right in their guild hall, wipe them out, and tear the whole thing down. They wouldn’t be able to stop me! You can’t tell me they don’t deserve it.”
“Not saying they don’t,” said Collins.
Guspy pressed, “I can farm The Death Pit for Soulflayers. Everyone in our guild could have a Soulflayer, even the newbies. They’d finally be tough enough to join us on raids. You know how they’ve been dying to play with us in high level zones. Think how happy they would be!”
“Oh, they’d be awfully happy,” said Collins.
Guspy unleashed his coup de grace. “And! I can go to Fort Murder, stroll through it without a care in the world, kill the general, and not have to split the loot with anyone. That means I would get a Headsman’s Axe, which I would of course donate to my dear friend Collins. Wouldn’t you like a Headsman’s Axe?”
“I absolutely would,” said Collins.
“Ok, good. So, I’ll just—"
“Turn it in, Guspy,” said Collins.
Guspy stamped his feet in frustration. “Why though? You just said you were on board with the Nighthawks and the Soulflayer and the axe!”
“Oh, I am. The Nighthawks need to get taught. Having the newbies be tough enough to join us would be great. I’ve been dying for a Headsman for months now. But you’d be cheating. Momma didn’t raise no cheater, and daddy didn’t raise no troll,” said Collins.
“That’s so backward. You know the Nighthawks would do that to us if they got it,” said Guspy.
“Sure enough. But we can’t control what they do, and I can’t control what you do. I just want you to remember what I’ve said before: there’s a person on the other end of that character. A person just like you. I can only imagine how tilted you’d get if someone cheated to become invincible and killed you. Or farmed their whole guild ultra-rares and used them on you. I’m just asking you, as a friend, to turn it in. Please.”
Guilt. He’s put the guilt in me, thought Guspy. What an asshole.
“Fine, I’ll head to Pokate and turn it in,” said Guspy, pouting and kicking an errant stone.
“Thanks, Gusp. I promise I’ll help you find a legit one. I gotta go, though. Play later?”
“You know it,” said Guspy, and he watched Collin’s avatar dissipate.
Guspy walked back to Pokate City, the largest player hub in the area. The journey was a particularly hazardous one. Wild beast attacks, an assassin, a rockslide, even an errant fireball from an ongoing battle, all harmless in the face of his perfect resistance. He crossed into the city proper, whitewashed buildings that held little shops and extra dimensional guildhalls. Pokate Palace loomed over all of this like a resplendent sundial. The stained-glass windows shimmered in the sunlight.
Guspy approached a beggar in the street. The beggar’s body was gaunt. His dirty rags and matted beard spoke of hungry days and cruel nights. The beggars of Loria Online were portals to moderator attention. Speaking to a beggar cued a request. A moderator would eventually take control of the beggar and offer assistance.
Guspy knelt before the beggar.
“I’d like to speak with a moderator, please.”
“All in good time, my boy,” the beggar wheezed.
Guspy felt an itch in his legs. There was still time to run wild, to reap the rewards of his lottery ticket. He cursed Collins for guilting him and attempted to distract himself. Guspy admired the features on the beggar. His eyes traced cavernous wrinkled flesh. Saw the tiny movements of lice in the filthy thick beard. Saw the faintest deposits of salt in two long tracks leading down from the cloudy blue eyes.
The beggar had been crying. Why would they include such a heartbreaking detail? Why haven’t I ever noticed this before? Guspy thought.
The clouds in the beggar’s eyes parted, revealing a bright blue sky. “Thank you for waiting, this is Raymond. How can I help you?” A voice as crisp as autumn wind now spoke through the beggar.
“Uhh, hi. I’ve got a problem with an item I found?” Guspy spoke at the mouth of the beggar.
“Sure thing! Is it an item you have equipped right now?”
“Yeah, The Belt of Endurance. The values look wonky, and It makes me immune to every element. I’m immune to physical and magic damage now too.”
There was a long pause, the beggar’s eye fluttered. “You’re reporting that an item is broken in your favor?”
Guspy winced. “Umm, yes sir? It basically makes me immortal.”
Guspy waited patiently. The moderator was using his tools to see Guspy’s menu screens, something that was normally private.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” the beggar said. “It’s a null shunt error.”
“A null shunt error?”
“Yeah. Sometimes during a drop-roll, the system shunts over a clipped value that…sometimes it breaks.”
“Ah.”
“They’re a bitch to fix. Thankfully very rare. This one is particularly bad, and I’m at the end of my shift.” The mod let out a sigh that prophesized an exhausting tedious future.
“Well…thank you for your honesty! Usually when an item glitches in a player’s favor, they keep it a secret for as long as they can. Then they have a temper tantrum when we take it away. Alright, Guspy, I’m on morning shift tomorrow. I don’t want to deal with this right now. I’m giving you eight hours of god mode. Can I trust you not to make me regret it?”
Guspy was stunned. A mod was allowing immortality for eight hours? Trusting him? Why?
“You can trust me,” Guspy said.
“I hope so. I’ll fix this in the morning, don’t take the belt off or you’ll have negative infinite resistance and die from a sunburn.” The beggar’s eyes clouded back over.
Guspy threw a gold piece into the beggar’s bowl, a good luck ritual that even the highest level raiders did before a dangerous run.
He was in the clear. A mod had okayed him having god mode. Anything I do is the mod’s fault now! Guspy thought, but the thought gave him a queasy feeling the moment it passed through his mind. He was being trusted. He had promised to not make the mod regret it.
What was the mod’s name? Randy? He remembered Collins's words about there being real people on the other end of the game. He supposed that meant Randy too. He imagined telling someone to their face that his actions were their fault, like trust somehow absolved him of responsibility. He imagined someone else doing that to him. Or doing that to his little sister…
He spent a fair amount of gold on fast travel scrolls, valuable, single-use items that would transport the player anywhere in Loria. Guspy now stood on the craggy lip of Salamander’s Eye. The massive active volcano dominated the primordial jungle landscape. A vast column of ebony smoke rose from the lava pit, the birthplace of thunderclouds. Guspy spread his arms wide and fell into the heat, letting simulated gravity carry him downward to the roiling floor of liquid earth.
At the last moment he reflexively raised his hands to shield himself. Lava was instant death in Loria, doing an infinite amount of damage per second. Guspy was now sinking slowly in this most dangerous of elements unharmed. He raised his hand in a thumbs up as he sank beneath the surface.
Whorls of incandescent crimson, brown, and orange materialized and dispersed endlessly. It was like looking into the fickle furnace of creation, so eager to invent but too chaotic to design.
Guspy wondered if he’d fall forever. At last, his feet settled on something solid. He was the first player to set foot here. A unique accomplishment, one he could keep. He moved through the lava as though it was water. Must not have been a very important thing to program considering you die as soon as you touch it, he thought.
Guspy explored the floor of the volcano. It was perfectly smooth and without texture, an entire volcano held up on a pane of glass. But then he found something. A deformity in the bottom of the world. He explored it with his hand. It felt like a solid bubble sticking up out of the flat plane beneath him. It moved a little.
It’s a doorknob! Guspy realized. He turned it and felt it fall away beneath him. He sank further and dropped into a vast open room, the lava didn’t follow past the entry. Guspy cast a series of Light spells, banishing the darkness to the black obsidian of the walls and floor.
A giant floating sign that hung suspended in midair grabbed Guspy’s attention.
“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO GET HERE.”
“Shows what you know, sign,” Guspy said, and began to explore.
In the secret chamber Guspy found dozens of monster models from the surrounding area, frozen in the sterile T-position. He took the time inspect them in the minutest detail. He saw the way salamander skin glittered with the luster of countless ruby gemstones. He watched the dancing flames of fire elementals, and discovered their heat rose above the limitation of their hitbox. He looked deep into the eyes of a stone golem and saw that they were prisms. They split the blue glow of the golem’s magical core into a frigid winter sunset, whites and blues dancing and concealing a secret whisper of deep red.
I don’t think I ever really looked at the models before, he thought. Even now he couldn’t recall any specific details of any monster he had fought. They were all colored blurs in his mind, faceless values and blocks of information.
Despite his immortality, he still froze in fear when his spell illuminated a colossus of steel tucked away in a corner of the room. It was a broad suit of cold iron armor, bereft of adornment and pockmarked with the careless ministrations of a thousand hammers beating the metal into shape. In one clenched fist it carried a wicked looking cleaver, one that belonged in a giant’s butcher shop, used to crack the toughest dragon bones and partition the choicest bits.
Guspy had never seen or heard of this creature in his life.
You must not have made it into the final game. At least not yet, thought Guspy. Despite its beastly ugliness, Guspy felt a pang of remorse. Someone worked to design every aspect of this monstrosity to evoke the feelings of fear and disgust, and they had been very successful. But it had gone unused and unseen since the game’s inception.
I remember the Christmas ornament I made in middle school. A Christmas light made to look like a reindeer, googly eyes and fuzzy brown pipe cleaners for antlers. I was so proud. But when Christmas came, they didn’t want to put it on the tree. They thought it looked too silly.
Guspy left a gold coin at its feet, alms for unsung effort.
He was preparing to depart when he noticed an unadorned chest had appeared beneath the presumptive sign. Guspy was certain it hadn’t been there before. He approached, circling the chest, before reaching out and lightly tapping it. He may invulnerable, but this was a developer’s world. Who knows what treachery could hide here? He lifted the lid, tilting his head and peeking at its contents with one eye shut. Inside was a billiard sized ball of translucent glass. Guspy recognized a Title Sphere. These rare items would grant a moniker to the character’s name. It was a single use item worth tens of thousands of gold. Too curious to resist learning what it would bestow, he shattered the sphere in his palm. Red dust flowed between his fingers like Martian sand. His name had changed from Guspy to Guspy the Wanderer.
Guspy used his next scroll and teleported to the shipwreck of the Soothsayers Doom. A brig suspended above the ocean on a monstrous coral bed, the ship itself was a mid-level dungeon. Players could fight their way from deck to deck, battling undead crewmen that fired grapeshot salvos into crowded rooms, shredding players into bloody clouds. The Captain was the boss of the dungeon, and part of his loot was a map that would send players on a quest line that eventually led players to the halls of the merfolk king, an extremely high-level dungeon at the bottom of the ocean.
Being immortal, Guspy took what players called the ‘express route’, swimming directly downward from the open sea. It was suicide. Besides suffocation, players had to contend with titanic carcharodons, giant squid, invisible water elementals, and elite merfolk guard. These creatures had mastery of the terrain, and few players were accustomed to attacks that could come from any direction.
Beneath him, the phosphorescent glow of the Coral Castle overpowered the distant sun for dominion of the depths. Guspy slipped into a castle window, ignoring the tridents of the pursuing Knights of Pearl. The Castle was a dungeon that needed to be completed quickly, lest the player’s water breathing magic wear off. That made it the perfect sight-seeing location for someone who didn’t need to breathe. Guspy examined the meticulously decorated royal bedrooms. The books in Loria were filled with open source stories from the real world. Players spent hours in this fantasy world engrossed in the prose of Tom Sawyer and Paradise Lost. But yellowed letters fell from between the pages like autumn leaves.
Never whole without you, my beloved Jennifer,
B.C.
Guspy didn’t know the merfolk princess even had a name. Neither had he any idea who B.C was, or if these pages were part of some fetch quest he had never come across.
Deeper in the palace he found the throne room of the merfolk king. The king was gigantic, of course, all raid bosses were. The king was also an enemy that demanded constant focus and attention to defeat. He cycled seamlessly through attack patterns, buffs, and stage activations. Missing the tell-tale signs would leave you a step behind the dance and doomed to failure.
Guspy now had a unique opportunity. He ignored the king completely. The throne room was heaped with chests of gold and artifacts plundered from sunken ships. But they were only decorative, ersatz décor designed to regale the room with the trappings of wealth and luxury. Being worthless, players ignored them. Guspy took the time to closely inspect the mountains of coins and bejeweled quillions that rose from the coin piles. Ignoring the world-shaking bolts of lightning, magical rays, and great sweeps of the merfolk king’s trident, he crouched to the level of a single coin.
There, in the face of the coin, were three smiling children. The normal relief of Empress Aubrianna, a mythical figure in Origin’s history, was replaced with a picture of a family. The normal Latin phrase, “A solis ortu usque ad occasum”, had been replaced with, “Jason, Melody, Brock”. He moved from one coin to the next. Families, pets, and selfies looked back at him. Some had names written, others messages, “Thx Mel, my rock <3” “Joe & Cara 4 eva” “We did it!”
Guspy wondered if any player had ever seen these. Maybe, but he hadn’t, and that made it special to him. He wondered what he would put on his own coin. Me, Collins, and Becca at the beach, he thought. A picture that had been his desktop background for years. The only evidence of a perfect day.
Having taken his fill of the throne room, Guspy pulled out another scroll and teleported away.
Hogglerock dungeon was an aberration. Most dungeons tried to evoke a sense of awe or fear, but Hogglerock was just gross. Its entrance was at the center of a mud-smothered swamp. Poisonous insects and carnivorous slugs roamed the wastes searching for carrion to strip or making their own if none could be found.
To descend into the putrid depths of Hogglerock, you entered the mouth of a great saurian beast. It was long since dead, its flesh in a perpetual state of decay. Down its mucus-caked throat, you entered a dungeon that had been created from the offal that remained of its digestive system. Noxious acid pools, monstrous parasites, and bloated scavengers challenged players that came to plunder the carcass.
Guspy had to stop and think before entering the sixth stomach of the beast. He had no idea if his plan would work, or even made sense. Guspy removed all his armor and weapons, save for the Belt of Endurance. He entered the dungeon’s final room, aggroing a great bipedal minotaur and its bovine kin. Guspy sat and crossed his legs. He closed his eyes and focused on slowing his breath and his heart. Aggro in Loria was based on a series of factors: proximity, source of damage or debuff, equipment levels, class, movement, and supposedly even biometric data the VR rig was able to obtain.
The monsters were instantly aggroed when the rubbery sphincter of the sixth stomach was touched, converging on their only target. Guspy’s lack of equipment, aggression, and stillness would reduce his aggro over time. He waited and he watched. In time the monsters lost interest, ceasing their attacks and wandering back to their starting positions. Guspy continued to watch. For a time, they only bobbed in place, replaying idle animations and howling blistering war cries. But, in time, Guspy saw a strange behavior begin. One smaller minotaur creature pulled out a hunk of meat, clutching it by the pure white protruding bone. It chomped a piece and munched in contentment, eyes closed in blissful indulgence. The giant boss minotaur began to sniff the air, and a game of keep away began. The smaller minotaurs tossed the meat between themselves as the boss zeroed in on the source of the smell.
Who is this for? wondered Guspy. Who was meant to see this? And how? Why hide it? How many monsters of Loria Online had these little secrets? Tiny moments of humor buried in terabytes of code, only visible in a state of extreme passivity. Once the capering script had completed, the bovines returned to their normal places and continued to cycle basic idle motions.
It’s for me. Since I’m the one watching it, that means it’s for me, thought Guspy.
Guspy pulled out his final scroll, completing the spell just before he was beset again.
Guspy the Wanderer appeared back in Pokate City. His new title drew lingering looks from other players who searched their memories. Guspy’s time was running low, and fatigue massaged his mind and eyes. There was more he could search for. He could run down the hours until the mod logged back on and set things to rights. But he didn’t want the last moments of such an enlightening day to be a race against the clock. It would spoil the sense of calm and contemplation he had cultivated. Instead he sat down next to a beggar and composed a message to Collins.
“I won’t be joining you today, Collins, but I’ve got so much to tell you about when I do.”
He had seen beyond the veil. He witnessed tiny miracles of creation hidden from mortal sight. Sparks of love that flickered once more when observed. For a precious few hours, he was blessed with a peace that allowed him to fall in love with the game all over again, to appreciate its creation like a benevolent god.
Collins and Guspy returned to the red rock canyon. Guspy admired the visible strata of the walls. Simulated eons left perfect layers of color stacked like the pages of a book. Little details, so insignificant yet so engrossing. He appreciated the work that went into this game. The efforts of artists always caught his notice.

I ain't a woman myself but I do be a little stuck on character creation but I just wonder for the people who did created women in y'all stories what sort of female characters have you people thought of for your stories?
Camila Holmes/Lioness: My very first female superhero who is actually a Victoria Secret Model.
Amaya Bennett: A Black American Woman who is a martial artist that relocated towards China.
Samantha Red: A Finnish American who is also a martial artist who lives with her two younger brothers and their divorce mother.
Ladies and Gentlemen which women characters have you created in your worlds comment down.