Demographics

• Gender: Female
• Race/Ethnicity: Kazakhistani
• Residence: Kazakhstan
• Income Bracket: Need full-ride(or full-tuition mb)
• Type of School: Public
• Hooks (Recruited Athlete, URM, First-Gen, Geographic, Legacy, etc.): None

Intended Major(s): Env.sciences, government, poltics
Academics

• GPA (UW/W): UW is 3.7
• Rank (or percentile): N/A (school doesn't rank)
• # of Honors/AP/IB/Dual Enrollment/etc.: N/A
• Senior Year Course Load: ....

Standardized Testing
List the highest scores earned and all scores that were reported.

• SAT: N/A, will take in fall 2023
• ACT: N/A
• AP/IB: N/A
• Other: N/A

Extracurriculars/Activities
1.Ballet(Non-professional)
2.History and geography research with a professor of Shakarim University(T10 in Kazakhstan)
3.English club (Founder and President)
4.Student Government(Secretary)
5.Volunteer at UNICEF since 2021
6.Library assisstant
7.Media project
8.Paid work(since 2022 have a little business)
9.Family responsibilities
10.MUN
Honors/Awards:
1.National essay contest (essay was published in a journal)
2.The prize "X city talented children" 2021 and 2022
3.The best delegate 2023
I know that my application is not strong enough to get into top schools, but I am working on it(Creating a website for young English learners, writing mini-book for teaching them and publish it on Google Books and so on) Really need your advices and feel free to ask/say something in the comment section!

Hello everyone! I hope you all loved watching this MCC as much as I did!
You may remember that in early January, I made A post which ranked all 26 of the MCCs that PeteZahHutt had participated in based on his performance, ranging from the least good, to the most good.
My opinions in that post remain pretty much the same two months down the road, nothing has really changed how I view any of them. What has changed though, is that MCC has come back, and Pete was in it, making that list obsolete! So I thought it would be fun to come back and see where his MCC29 performance fits in with respect to the others that he's done over the years.
DISCLAIMER [again]: I love PeteZahHutt, he's my favorite MCC player, and as with the last post, I am ranking these purely out of respect for who he is as a content creator and Minecraft player. I am not detracting from how insanely cracked he is (or anyone else for that matter).
If you haven't read that previous post, I recommend giving it a read for a more in depth analysis and my reasoning for these, but this was how I ranked the MCCs that Pete's been in last time (top = best, bottom = least good):

1. MCC 7
2. MCC 14
3. MCC 17
4. MCC 3
5. MCC 5
6. MCC 26
7. MCC 12
8. MCC 6
9. MCC 8
10. MCC 10
11. MCC 13
12. MCC 25
13. MCC 2
14. MCC 22
15. MCC 21
16. MCC 1
17. MCC 4
18. MCC 28
19. MCC 9
20. MCC 23
21. MCC 19
22. MCC 20
23. MCC 16
24. MCC 18
25. MCC All Stars
26. MCC 15

So, now for the all-important question: where does MCC 29 fit in?
As you all know, in this MCC Pete was on lime with team-mates KaraCorvus, Seapeekay, and SolidarityGaming.
In my opinion this tournament is among his top 10 best MCCs so far, and a big reason for why that is the case actually stems from his common "weaknesses" that he struggled with in 2022. Team comms and PVP were both a big step up this time around, especially with an impressive 9-kill-run in Sky Battle on Pete's part, and effective communication which led to his team placing 2nd in Battle Box and not completely falling apart in Grid Runners. Pete also maintained a more than impressive resolve with movement games, especially with an incredible near-victory on Journey in Rocket Spleef Rush, and somehow soaring to new heights on Terra Swoop Force in TGTTOS (not to mention 5/6 top 10s once more there). As with MCC 13, Ace Race was an unfortunate mishap, but there isn't as much tilt this time around, simply a lack of practice with tridents and route-studying (also...confusing the red boost with a green boost, but we'll gloss over that). Were it not for Grid Runners Pete could have taken 1st individual, which would be a great way to start 2023!
As for where it specifically ranks for me, I'd place it in 10th, between MCC 10 and MCC 8. Unlike MCC 10, MCC 29 has far less handholding, with a much stronger player roster and less favorable game order which for me makes it more impressive, but unlike MCC 8, it doesn't necessarily carry that "wow" factor in his absolute best moments, it's just more consistently great than anything rather than a huge victory that other players keep making note of.
So that's Pete's MCC 29 for you! Let me know what you think, and of course I want to say that this is just my opinion and you're free to disagree if you're so inclined :) Have a great day!

First time poster but long time lurker.
Obviously, McLaren has not been doing well for quite some time now with everyone always hoping that "next year will be our year." With Zak Brown taking over as the executive director back in 2016 and then as the CEO in 2018 for McLaren Racing, it feels like the team has been stuck in midfield hell with their best result taking place in 2020 as far as Brown's tenure is concerned.
Everyone is well aware of the struggles Daniel Riccardo faced with the team along with the "GP2" and zero packaging issues before then and even now with Norris & Piastri trying their best to get the most out of the MCL60. It's not like the Mercedes power unit sucks and the team continues to talk about how 2024 and then 2025 will be the first year they start to see positive results from their updated in-house wind tunnel coming online.
My question is whether or not Zak Brown should continue in his position with the team as he seems to be more interested with Indycar along with trying to secure whatever sponsorships he can get for the F1 team.
If Zak is safe, who would be another person to question?
Does some of the blame fall on Andreas Seidl since he was TP from January 2019 until this past December? And if he deserves some blame, did he really deserve the CEO role with Sauber Motorsport?
Did Andrea Stella deserve the TP role after Seidl left?
Do we think that McLaren will eventually get it together and return to their glory days or will the shortcomings of the team drive those like Norris & Piastri away?
I am curious as to what everyone's thoughts & opinions are and I hope to keep this thread as constructive and non-toxic as possible.
Thank you all!

Hello! I have been going to therapy for 4 months now. My therapist recommend that I sit with psychiatrist and I did. He, as my therapist said, gave me a diagnosis of General anxiety disorder. I still have to do some more tests to see if there is more going on (he said that my thoungts may be in some correlation with OCD but he wouldnt diagnose me with it).
And for me, Im so scared. I have had anxiety for my whole life (im 25) and anxiety is just..."normal" to me. I decied to look for therapy just because of my general mental health and because my anxiety can be draining sometimes (racing thoughts before sleeping, always thinking 10 steps ahead, afraid of public speaking...). FOR ME, my symptoms dont sound...that bad? If that makes sense...So I was a little shook when I was prescribe Zoloft for my anxiety. I took the prescription today from pharmacy and Im afarid of taking it. I have read 1000 storis on the internet about it. They are mixed, some people say they changed their life for the best, some that thsy wish they never took it.
I generaly dont take any pills, ever, I dont like "pumping" my body with pills that have strong down sides to them. And Zoloft HAVE A LOT of them.
I dont know how they will affect my life. Im not some crazy going-out person, but I know that Zoloft can not be mixed with alcohol. Im not an alocholic but im young person who likes to go out once a week and drink 2-3 bottles of beer with friends. It may be stupid, but I hate the idea of giving up alcohol completely. Can I still sit with friends and drink a bottle or two of alcoholic drink?
And Im so scared of starting it, I work at the job that I have to completely be focused and concentrated (I work somewhat as a teacher) and im SO AFRAID of it affecting my work. Is it really that bad?
Also, I read that some people may even feel more depressed/anxious/suicidal when starting to take it. Is it true for all? Im not depressed nor suicidal and on a scale of 1 to 10 I would say my anxiety is at around 6 on avarage. Will it get much worse?
My recommended starting dose is 25mg.
I just want some encourangement, will I be so bad when I start them that I will be like a walking zombie?

I'm thinking about throwing an in-person tournament to foster the community in my local area. I have some questions about how best to run the tournament, specifically related to what format would be best. I know the mode will be 150cc, smart steering is off, no computers, and all vehicle options will be available, but:

• How many races is ideal per round? I figure at least two, but four might be more fair.
• Is it better to make the tournament single elimination or double? I tend to like double elimination tournaments, but if there are as many as four races per round I figure that's enough to mitigate fluke losses and I worry that double elimination will make the tournament take up more time than it needs to.
• What items should be available? I see that normal items is popular and I like that for a low-tier tournament where players who don't play a lot should have a shot at winning. But I'd prefer for it to be a purer test of skill and I was thinking of at least removing Blue shells, bullet bills, and lightning bolts to remove some of the rubber-banding stuff.
• What tracks should be available? I have access to all the DLC tracks myself, but would it be better to limit it to tracks from the base game for people who haven't invested in the others? Also, are there any tracks that should be removed from the pool for any reason?
• Should tracks be chosen randomly? Or chosen by the players? Or chosen by the moderators in advance?
• Any other things I should probably take into consideration?

•1•
Aniyah paused by a tree that was bigger than all the rest. It was obviously very old. The leaves of its branches were a pretty teal color and were shaped like the diamonds in a deck of playing cars. She couldn't say exactly why, but this tree gave her a slight sense of comfort. In these woods--especially with the black curtain hanging over the sky--comfort was a rare commodity. She found comfort in this tree, oddly enough, and also in her new weapon. Windchine; Blade of the Paragon. She supposed she was the Paragon of the Weaver now. Whatever that meant. She knew the words, because they kept echoing throughout her thoughts, but she had only a faint idea of their meaning. She wasn't totally clueless. She'd picked up on the fact that the Weaver was a God, or something close to it. She'd intuited that Paragon was some kind of title, bestowed by the Weaver. It meant she was sort of like a knight. Beyond these things however, she didn't have much to go on. She'd always just known things she had no way of knowing. Sometimes, she knew things she had no business knowing, as Momma would have said. She wasn't psychic. Far from it. She just got gut feelings about things, that usually turned out to be right. Like the ones underneath. She'd picked up on all of that, without any real reason to pick up on it.
She was picking up on something now. Something involving the others back at the clearing.
But she was still piecing all of that together. She didn't have enough to go on yet, to have any complete, fully formed thought.
That wouldn't come until a bit later...
What came in that moment, was the subtle soothing nature of the very old tree before her. Comfort really was a rare commodity here, but aside from the tree and the scimitar, there was one more source of comfort for her, currently. The weird little jellyfish thing. It was bobbing along in the air a few feet from the tree. It hadn't left her side since bringing her the weapon. Like the tree--like Windchime--it granted her a small degree of comfort. She didn't know where the jellyfish had got the weapon, but she had an idea that even the jellyfish didn't know where it had come from. Maybe the old man had something to do with it. The one who kept the Keys. The Custodian.
She bitterly wished she'd thought to grab Mr. Brownie when she took off running from the skinless man.
The skinless man...
Now there was something she hadn't got any gut feelings about. Except for fear, that was. She knew to be fearful of the man, but that was all. She'd dealt with monsters her whole life. They'd shown up out the blue, or she'd shown up to them. Like in that Long Room. Something about the skinless man was different though. Something about him wasn't like the other monsters. He wasn't one of her monsters, she knew that much at least. She could also tell he didn't have anything to do with the ones underneath, or the grasshopper people. He wasn't connected to The Jailer.
The only intuitive feeling Aniyah had concerning the skinless man, was that he was connected to something a whole lot worse. What that something might have a been however, she had no clue.
Aniyah didn't have a sheath, or swordbelt. The scimitar hadn't come with a scabbard. As a result, she was forced to hold the weapon in her hand, since she had nowhere to stow it. The blade was as long as her arm, and curved--almost like a banana--but was only sharp on one side. This allowed her to rest the blunt edge in the crook of her shoulder, carrying it the way she'd seen lumberjacks sometimes carry their axes in old movies; with her elbow bent, and the blade sticking out behind her as if it were a compass needle that only pointed in the opposite direction from where she was facing.
With Windchine in this position, she leaned sideways against the old tree--feeling its rough bark against her skin. A soft breeze gently blew against her face, bringing with it the scents of nature. The blackness of the sky didn't seem to match the pleasantness of the wind or the earthy smells of the woods around her. Nor did the stillness. There were a few insects buzzing someplace nearby, but mostly it was quiet. It was almost tranquil, in fact. She knew that somewhere in these same woods, chaos was happening. Hell on Earth (or, Hell on In-Between, she supposed). But all of that seemed so distant. So removed from her in that moment, in this private patch of wilderness.
Part of her wanted to go charging off toward the battle, so she could save Eddie the Gnome, and Prioress Qaya, and the others. Yet, at the same time, another part of her wanted to just lie down right here and take a nice long nap. Another part still--a deeper part--briefly broached the topic of Amy. She shattered this thought into a million little pieces and scattered them in the wind. She wouldn't... no... she couldn't deal with that right now. Not yet. Soon, she would have to. But not just yet.
These contradicting parts were really all the same part. The part that didn't want to admit she was hopelessly lost. She had no dang idea where to go.
Aniyah looked up at the weird little jellyfish thing. She whispered, "Wonder how far it is, to get back to Eddie Money and the others?"
The jellyfish couldn't understand her. Duh. It was a floating jellyfish. How could it?
Except... for a moment, Aniyah thought maybe the thing did understand. And after another few seconds, she knew for sure it did.
The jellyfish flashed a soft green color. Once, then twice. To Aniyah, it was almost like it was saying: "Beep-beep!"
"What does that mean, Jellybean?" she asked, laughing at how goofy she probably sounded.
The jellyfish strobed green again. Just once this time. Then, it slowly began to float away.
"Hold up a minute. Where you goin'?" She stopped leaning against the tree and stood up straight.
The jellyfished froze for a second, beeped green once more, then started off again.
"Ohhh, okay. I see. You leading the way? Well okay then." Aniyah smiled in spite of herself.
She followed behind the jellyfish. Together, they made their way through the darkened woods. Hopefully, to rejoin the others...
•2•
"I've never been in this part of the city before," Flower-Seed admitted. "I didn't even realize there was so much down here. I knew there were older parts of Locist Spire that were here before the Jikk, and that most of it was under the city, but I didn't expect there to be all of... this." He looked around, pausing briefly to admire the elaborate architecture around him. "I mean... Gods. There's actually streets down here. And structures. Not to mention these sculptures and platforms. It's breathtaking. It's almost like an entire settlement encased in a mausoleum. A sort of... civilization time capsule."
Quijj gave only a noncommittal grunt in response.
The two of them walked side-by-side along a wide street paved in stone. So much was stonework, or marble. The craftsmanship that went into all of it was something even modern Artisians likely couldn't replicate. Large sections of the old city were in ruins, but those that remained mostly intact made Flower-Seed feel as if he'd traveled back in time. If they'd had the sky overhead instead of a cavern roof, he could have easily imagined being in the center of a bustling metropolis.
They strode by a towering sculpture made to resemble some sort of animal Flower-Seed couldn't identify. It certainly wasn't any kind of insect, or Insectoid. It had four legs and a tail, plus a large round head. It was as intriguing as it was beautiful.
Cave crickets were softly singing in the nooks and crannies. The distant sound of dripping water played constant accompaniment to the hollow resonance of this subterranean wonderland.
They turned down what had once been a side street, with Flower-Seed leading the way. Up ahead, a cavern wall blocked their advance. There was a place where the wall had been broken, creating an opening just big enough for them to squeeze through.
On the other side, they came upon a ledge overlooking a sprawling cavern. There were more ledges--some, only narrow slabs of stone reminiscent of catwalks; others, much wider, holding half-ruined structures--high up along the cavern walls. And in the center, sitting like an island in the dark sea of darkness, was a sprawling marble platform. The platform was surrounded on all sides by crags and trenches so deep Flower-Seed couldn't see their bottom. There was a naturally formed staircase of stone leading from the platform to another opening. This was most likely the main entrance to this chamber. Flower-Seed realized now that he and Quijj had taken an alternate route to get here, than the others had.
Yes. There were others. A lot of them, from the looks of it.
On the marble platform below, rows of tents and even a makeshift gazebo had been set up. As Flower-Seed's eyes adjusted, he began to make out the robes of Advisors; the armor of Spire Knights and Spire Watch. There were excited, panicked voices echoing throughout the cave. Some sort of commotion was going on.
"I had no idea any of this was here," Flower-Seed whispered.
Quijj gave him a strange look.
"Don't ask how I knew where to go, or how to get here. I just... did."
Quijj nodded, but said nothing.
From the platform, someone yelled: "Arrest the traitor!"
"Ah, shit," Flower-Seed said. He was no longer bothering to keep his voice at a whisper. The figures gathered below had broken into something close to a frenzy. "They must be talking about the Councilor." He looked at Quijj with a serious expression. "We have to get her out of here. I'm not exactly the biggest fan of our government, but something really bad is going on down here. I got... visions. I saw Spire Knights with their minds corrupted by parasites. Whoever attacked the city... they've infected some of the officials. We have to do something. If we're ever going to rebuild... we need Jikk like Councilor Lemma. She's one of the good ones."
Quijj grunted in agreement. "Alright. Let's do it."
"What's the plan?" Flower-Seed asked, suddenly nervous. He felt a bit silly asking Quijj what the plan was, considering the elderly tavern keeper had just been following his lead up this point. Now that they were here, Flower-Seed didn't have the slightest idea what he was going to do. Or even what he could do. He couldn't fight a trained Spire Knight. Let alone an entire company of them. He'd only get himself killed!
Fortunately (and to Flower-Seed's great relief), Quijj said: "Just wait here. And get ready to run. Like you've never ran before."
"Alright. I think I can do that much, at least."
Quijj nodded. He drew his odd-looking weapon, and leapt down from the ledge; spreading his wings as he did this to glide over to the platform. Just as the old tavern keep came to a landing, Flower-Seed saw two armored Knights seize Councilor Lemma by the arms, and pull her to the ground. One of the Advisors screamed.
Shit! his mind cursed. Come on, Quijj. You gotta do something! And fast!
•3•
There was a particular knock at the hidden door to the Navigator's study. Three heavy raps, a pause, then two sets of four bangs; the coded knock he'd taught to the mercenary leader. The corners of Drokin the Navigator's mouth--little more than soft tissue on either side of his pointed beak--sagged slightly, in a parody of a frown. He shot a glance over to the wall-mounted clock above his desk. It was only Ef'tat-Half-Wane. The merc shouldn't have made it to this part of Barkstone Barony, for at least another three Shecks.
Drokin cast a suspicious eye toward the opposite end of the room. He reached beneath his desk, unfastening the blade he hid there. It was always good to have a backup weapon. The talon-like claws of his hand instinctively found the pommel of his rapier. "Enter!" he called to the door.
There was a hefty creaking sound as a considerable portion of the wall was pushed inward, revealing both the false rock of the door's opposite side, and the midday sunlight beyond the study. The light was much too bright for Drokin's eyes, after spending so much time inside the chamber under the Arcas Rune lamps. For a moment, he had to squint in order to get a decent view of his visitor. The moment Drokin saw the figure entering his study, his claws tightened on the handle of his weapon.
The one who appeared through the doorway was not the merc leader Rave the Ravager. Not by a long shot. The stranger was a Jagged Fields Nerthran, just as Rave was, but this was where their similarities ended. Rave was of slightly larger than average size for an adult male member of the mothfolk race. The Nerthran before Drokin was the antithesis of average (or "slightly" for that matter). He was enormous; much larger than seemed natural. If one of his crew mates had told Drokin about seeing a Nerthran the size of this one, Drokin would have labeled them an exaggerator at best, a boldfaced liar at worst. He certainly wouldn't have believed mothmen could grow this large, if he weren't seeing the proof of that very thing with his own two eyes.
"Where is Rave? Who are you?" Drokin demanded.
The giant mothman slowly stepped inside the study and creaked the door shut behind him. He did not answer.
"I asked you a question. Where is--"
In a baritone voice that was almost pleasing to the ear, the mothman said: "Would you Sky Pirates send your Captain on every minor mission, or simple errand? I am Master Rave's deliverer. I am called Nollo."
A peculiar name for such a hulking creature as this, the Navigator mused.
When Drokin didn't initially respond, 'Nollo' added: "I have the Relic you wanted." He held up a black rectangular case, almost like the kind a Bard might use for protecting a musical instrument.
Drokin thought this over a moment, studying the towering mothman carefully. He felt almost like he was looking up at a living statue. One of the great big ones that lined the streets of the grand cities of Roshuka, or populated the ruins of Jyyrvesk's Old Country. Even the hulk's features were oversized, as if they needed to compensate for the massive face to which they were attached. This 'Nollo' somewhat unsettled Drokin. The self-proclaimed "deliverer" had a long, slender mouth that didn't quite seem to want to close all the way. This gave the mothman an almost moronic appearance; a dimwitted face with the mouth of a drooling imbecile. Combined with his considerable size, it would have been easy to dismiss this Nerthran as a buffoon. Even the title "deliverer" played into this impression. And he seemed to have a permanent glazed over quality about his eyes. However, Drokin saw what lurked beneath the surface. When he looked beyond these things, the Navigator could detect a cold, calculating intelligence in the mothman's eyes. Upon closer inspection, the glazed over quality didn't strike the Navigator as entirely organic. It struck him as purposeful, practiced--part of a kind of disguise.
Nollo was a mothman with the soul of a spider...
As these things dawned on Drokin, the unsettled feeling he'd had since this mothman's appearance turned to something bordering on outright fear. The Navigator had been all across the Lesser and Greater Reaches. He'd seen some horrid things. Something about this stranger was different, however. There was something not quite Insectoid in his eyes; not quite Of This Pocket Realm, as the Captain was want to say. Drokin had never believed in the concept of evil. Not in the same way the Old Scrolls talked about it, as least. But now--here in his study, confronted by the figure before him--when he looked into those eyes, evil was all Drokin saw.
"You... have the Horn?" Drokin asked, trying to sound casual. His heart was beating at three times it's normal tempo. He slowly reached for the Link Orb. Calling out to Captain Heekan may have been the only chance he had left. "Let me get you the coin I promise then."
"Stop," said Nollo. "Put your hand down."
Drokin paused. The tips of his claws were just inches from the Orb. If he were quick about it, he could snatch the thing up in a microsecond. The Navigator was quick. He was a trained fighter, afterall. But... he knew intuitively he would not be quick enough.
"I beg your pardon?" Drokin said, trying and failing to keep some air of authority in his tone.
Nollo laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "There was never going to be any coin, was there? You think Master Rave wouldn't sniff out such an obvious con? You really aren't familiar with the Stonewing Pillar Mercenaries are you? We are not some low-level ratcatchers."
Drokin said nothing for a moment. At last, he sighed. He allowed his training to replace his fear. It took quite a lot of effort, but he managed. When his heart had returned to something closer to a natural beat, he leveled his avian eyes at the mothman. He dropped his hand, but brought it down to his rapier. He drew the weapon, but made no move to strike.
Through the end of his closed beak, Drokin growled: "Alright, asshole. Just what are you after?"
Nollo laughed again. He flipped open the brass latches on the black case he held, opened it. Inside, wasn't any Relic. That had been a lie. The black velvet lined interior of the case held a single object: a large throwing knife. Nollo removed the blade and let the case fall to the floor. "I'll need every piece of coin you have here. And anything else of value."
Drokin raised his rapier. "All our treasures are on the ship." He sighed, deciding to fess up. "I don't have anything here. You were right. I planned on taking the Horn and not paying. But I am obviously not getting what I wanted. There is no coin here for you to get what you want. Why don't we just call this an impasse? We both walk away, no better off... but no worse for wear than we were before. What do you say?"
Nollo shook his massive head. It was like seeing a boulder pivot atop a living column. "You think you can plot to take out our leader, and live to tell the tale? You're even more stupid than you look."
Now, Drokin was getting angry. "Do you have any idea who you're fucking with? You can't stand against our entire crew. We're the Hawkblood Pirates. You think Captain Heekan will just sit by and let you--"
The knife was buried in Drokin's windpipe, before he ever saw the mothman throw it. For someone so massive, Rollo had a dexterity and speed that were virtually unrivaled. There was a soft clang as Drokin's rapier fell to the floor; a soft gurgling sound as he began to choke on his own blood. He gasped for air his lungs couldn't find; his hands clawing at his throat to pull free a blade that wouldn't budge.
Drokin the Navigator fell to the floor with a hollow thud, knocking his chair over in the process. The last thing his dying mind registered before he lost consciousness was the sight of Rollo the mothman standing over him, whispering: "You Sky Pirates never should have come to the Wilden Green."
Then, Drokin was fading. Fading, fading.
Fading.
Fading from the mortal world, and headed for that Great Beyond...
•4•
Eyes. So many eyes. Staring. Watching.
Abominations. Wretched perversions of nature. Black-tongued things. Slime things. Things with many, many eyes.
Many. Many. Eyes.
Vellnoth! It was awful!
Zoocher slipped through a whirlwind of swirling shadows. He sank into quicksand of blackness. His mind shattered, then reformed. Shattered, then reformed. The world became a pane of glass which broke into a million, billion, trillion little pieces. He reached out, desperately trying to pick the pieces up, to put them back together.
It was no use.
Horrors. Eyes. Looking. Looking at me. Through me. Seeing me. Seeing all.
SEEING.
Zoocher rocked himself back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. There was dirt and grass beneath him. He was curled up into a ball, hugging his knees against his chest. Yet, these things were just background details. This was just his surroundings, and his physical body. His mind was somewhere else--perhaps, in another patch of dirt, slowly turning to mud. No. Not mud. Quicksand.
Sinking. He was sinking. Sinking, and slipping away. Slipping off into that Forever Night.
White Staircase?
No. He saw no White Staircase. Perhaps, only the Black Steps awaited him after all the awful things he'd done in life.
Only... there were no Black Steps, either.
Because he wasn't dead. Not yet, at least.
He was alive, but he was not living. Not in the normal sense.
Eyes. Watching. Looking. Seeing. Viewing. Glimpsing.
STARING.
GODS. OH GODS. OH VELLNOTH PLEASE!
No mercy for him. No Gods coming to save him. Only horrors.
He'd been in that terrible place, in that terrible room for what had felt like centuries.
Now he was back in the woods. But not all of him. He'd left some essential part of himself back there, back in that terrible place.
And now, he'd never get that part back. It was lost to him. For good. Forever.
Zoocher leaned over and vomited yellow bile onto the grass. His head was swimming. He slowly stood up. As he stood, everything fell away. Everything. His entire being. His essence. His all. His whole.
Zoocher? No. There was no Zoocher anymore.
Maybe there never had been.
Certainly, there would never be a Zoocher again.
Shattered.
Zoocher was shattered and lost. Gone. Now, Zoocher was no more. Forever departed.
He felt something warm and wet run down his legs. He'd urinated on himself without realizing it. This did not bother him. This meant nothing. He took a step forward and vomited onto his vest. This too meant nothing.
He stripped off his armor, his undergarments, his weapons. He kicked off his boots. To one side of the pile he'd made with his belongings, there were a set of bootprints in the dirt. He turned in the opposite direction, and started walking. He didn't know where he was going. He only knew he needed to walk.
Visions winked in and out of his mind. He continued walking, muttering to himself all the while. He spoke of everything, of nothing. He asked questions without answer. He gave answers to questions no one had asked.
Those eyes. They were burned into his brain. No. His brain was a burn. A scorchmark, littered with eyes. Staring. Watching. Waiting?
He walked on. Walking through the woods, to nowhere. Walking. Muttering. Thinking of eyes and Slime things.
It was a long time before he stopped.
•5•
There were two astounding sights, which presented themselves consecutively before him. In over two decades serving as one of the Hawkblood's top Assault Commanders, he had never seen anything more incredible than the Black Pyramid. That was, right up until the moment he saw the entire Pyramid vanish right before his eyes. If anything could be even more incredible than seeing the Pyramid; suddenly not seeing the Pyramid would have to be it.
Commander Ramses blinked several times, as if he were unable to trust what his eyes were showing him. The airspace beyond the windshield of his Glider Pod now showed only a sea of nothing, save for the Sky Gods higher up in the atmosphere.
"What the fuck? Where did it go?" he muttered to the empty cockpit.
The Glider Pods were designed to resemble plump black ravens. Ramses's Glider was slightly larger than the others in the fleet, as his was the Pod that carried most of the Big Weapons. Currently, they were in a V formation like actual birds; twelve in Ramses's group, twelve more in Commander Paulo's group that would have been approaching the Pyramid from behind; another twelve coming in from the right, making up Commander Gichi's group. The Gyff had their own Gliders, fashioned from wooden planks and some unknown material Ramses had never seen before. The Gyff ships looked a lot like the Gyff themselves; like long slender walking sticks. Their ships cut through the air like wooden missiles, lined up in a near row.
Ramses slapped the control panel, activating the Com-Cube. "Am I seeing things? Have I lost my mind?"
"No." It was the voice of Commander Gichi. She sounded uncharacteristically shaken. "The damn thing went POOF. Just like that."
The Gyff leading the stickbug group (his name was Kloom, if Ramses's memory served him) chimed in. "What do we do now? Will it reappear, you think?"
Ramses smacked the controls again, this time out of frustration. He said, "Somebody better get the Captain on the--"
"Already here," said the voice of Captain Heekan.
"You been listening this whole time?" Gichi asked.
"No. I just came on. Now listen. Everyone. Listen very closely. The Pyramid isn't in the valley anymore, but all is not lost. We will track it down. I already know where they took it."
Ramses gaped at this. "What? Captain... how could you already know all of that? It just vanished, only a few ticks ago."
Gichi made a soft gasping sound. "Captain. No. Tell me you didn't use it."
"I had to," Captain Heekan said with remorse. "The Mirror is too valuable a tool for us not to utilize it. And if ever there were a time when we needed it, it would be now."
"How many years did it take off your life?" Gichi asked hesitantly.
After a pause, Heekan said, "It doesn't matter. We're getting sidetracked here. There is a lot more going on than we realized. There are agents of not one, but two of the 5 Pharoahs here in the Wilden Green Valley, as we speak."
"What?" it was Gichi and Kloom in unison.
Commander Paulo broke his silence. "Which other Pharoah are we talking about?"
Heekan said, "Aside from Camaria the Butcher who we already knew about (it was one of her Scarabs that took the Pyramid), there's some of the Necromancer's men here too."
"The Necromancer?" Ramses said in disbelief. "The right hand man of Dowlmad the Deathless?" Ramses felt a cold chill run up his spine. "You're not telling me he is here in this valley, are you?"
"The Necromancer himself? No. Just some of his underlings. The Skinless Men, they're called."
Gichi asked, "Are they really all after the Pyramid and the Artifacts? I can't imagine two of the 5 Pharoahs would expend resources just for the stuff we're after. Aside for the Black Pyramid. But even still... something seems off here."
"Well," said Heekan. "That's because something is off. There are bigger forces at work here than we ever realized. Sure, they were after the Pyramid and the Divine Battery. But those are more like... party favors, to them."
Ramsese shook his head. "I already don't like how this sounds." The open sky outside his Glider suddenly felt less like empty airspace, and more like an endless abyss. One glance at the Sky Gods floating higher in the heavens strengthened this feeling, causing the commander to shudder as another chill ran up his back.
Captain Heekan said, "Then you really won't like what I'm about to tell you."
As it turned out, the Captain was absolutely right. Ramses really didn't like it one bit. None of them did.
•••
And Commander Ramses was not the only one who was told things they didn't like. While he was listening to his Captain's words with growing unease, elsewhere in the Wilden Green Valley, a certain Ranger was receiving a rather ominous warning...
•••
•6•
Deep within the bowels of the Reverse Tower. In the Domain of the Being known as O'Faxx.
Ranger Lexington stood atop the large boulder, surrounded by a sea of sludge. The putrid aroma of this place once more assaulted his senses, while his boots sank into the slick, squicky growth coating the boulder. Lexington's dragonfly-like features hid his discomfort. Outwardly, he appeared as stoic--as unshakeable--as always. At least, until he spoiled the effect with a knowing smirk.
To the bubbling muck, he called out: "So, you decided to help out afterall?"
There was no response.
Lexington's smirk faded. He bowed his head slightly. "It's alright. You don't have to speak. I only wish your assistance had been enough. That way Burlap wouldn't have had to give his life the way he did."
O'Faxx did not emerge from the murky depths.
Lexington would have sighed had the air quality in here not been so abhorrent. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. I will find a way to reward you."
Although O'Faxx remained beneath the muck, his voice echoed inside the Ranger's mind. "My actions were not on your behalf. Your ignorance betrays you, Overseer."
Lexington cocked his head to one side. "If you say so." He shrugged. "Some guys just can't accept a thank you, I guess."
"You have yet to understand. I helped you, to destroy you. None of you know yet what you are unleashing. I did not see the truth before, but the truth has now presented itself to me. The Gods wish to assemble the 12 and bring about the White Clock Consortion. Fools. They don't yet realize with the advent of the White Clock, the Black Clock follows. Those numbers shall count down their destruction. I looked into the destiny of the mortals you have placed so much faith in. I saw what they will bring about. They are one of the Four Winds that will blow upon the Door of Doom. One of them is a Paige of the Necronomicon."
"What does that mean? Quit speaking in riddles."
"There's a storm coming, Overseer. A storm that will wash away the world. This one, and all others. I haven't helped you. I've only helped the first few raindrops, so they might better form within the dark clouds hanging over this Pocket Realm. And in the wake of that rain? The thunder shall soon roll."
A storm coming. Four Winds that will blow upon the Doors of Destruction. Thunder.
These things made no sense to the Ranger. One thing was clear however; whatever O'Faxx's words meant, Lexington didn't like the sound of any of it.
•7•
There's a particular way Advisors and nobleJikk cry out when something disrupts their normal routine. It's a breathy sort of shriek, like someone emptying their lungs before they faint. Many of the High Advisors were voicing this exact variety of shriek now, as High Knight Pyx ordered his Spire Knights to arrest Lemma.
Temporary Councilor E'Shesh (to her credit) tried to block the path of the Knights. She was shoved out of the way, hard enough to cause the poor she-Jikk to tumble over onto the hard marble surface of the platform.
Then, underneath the makeshift gazebo, pandemonium set in. The stress of the attack on the city had already pushed everyone toward the brink of panic. This new development made them all leap right over the edge, falling right into the place people (Jikk, or otherwise) always fall in times like this one.
Lemma didn't run. She stood her ground, glowering at Pyx and Councilor Tholke; glaring as if she could knock some sense into them with her gaze alone. Of course, this was a futile endeavor. The Knights were upon here a moment later. Strong arms seized her, throwing her to the ground. Then, oddly enough, even stronger arms were lifting her from the floor. She stared down the Knights arresting her, but the expressions they gave her in return were not those of hardened Knights doing their duty. They were the expressions of Jikk who'd been caught completely off guard.
As she was lifted even higher, Lemma finally realized it wasn't the Knights who currently held her. It was someone else.
"What... who... what's going on?" she cried weakly.
She was being carried away by... one of the local tavern keepers?
"What's happening? What are you doing?" she demanded.
"She's getting away!" someone shouted.
"After her!" a Spire Knight ordered.
All at once, the Knights were airborne, in pursuit. The air was alive with the sound of buzzing wings, the shuffling and frantic falls of boots, and so much shouting. Lemma dangled over seemingly bottomless trenches and crumbling remnants of the City That Once Was.
The tavern keeper, in all this time, had only explained himself with a single grunt. Now, he was using his free arm to aim some kind of weapon at the Knights.
"No," Lemma pleaded. "Don't kill them. They're only doing their duty."
"Stun-shot," said the elderly tavern keeper. The words came an instant before his weapon discharged and the air behind them exploded in brilliant blue electricity. There was a loud series of crackling sounds, as the small-scale controlled lightning tore through each of the Knights. As if an invisible net had ensnared them, the Knights all froze in midair a moment, before their wings slowed to a standstill. They began to plummet down to the darkness below.
The tavern keeper voiced a soft grunt of regret.
"You can say that again," Lemma scolded. "The shot may have stunned them, but the fall will surely do a whole lot more. What's the meaning of this? Are you kidnapping me?"
The tavern keeper shook his head. "Behind you," he said. They climbed higher, closing in on the stone wall of the spacious cavern.
Lemma craned her neck to look back at the platform. What she saw horrified her. Hight Knight Pyx and Councilor Tholke. Even from this far away, she could see that their eyes appeared to have ruptured. From the vacant holes where their eyes had been, large fat yellow worms as long as sword blades were spilling out onto the platform. Each worm slapped down onto the marble, then immediately began to grow in size. Within mere seconds, each one grew to the size of a Field Roamer pup. And they only continued getting bigger.
The Advsiors and officials broke into a stampede, making for the platform's only exit; the flight of stone steps leading up to the passageway before street level.
"Gods," Lemma whispered. "We have to seal off the exit. We can't let those... those things make it up to the city."
But based on the ever-increasing size of the worms, and their ever-growing numbers, she feared it might already be too late.
"Hurry! Come on!" someone shouted, just ahead.
Lemma turned toward the sound of the voice. She saw a Jikk standing atop a stone ledge, high up on the cavern wall. She didn't recognize him.
A second later, the tavern keeper brought her down to a gentle landing on the ledge beside the unfamiliar Jikk. She eyed them both suspiciously. "Just what is going on? And who is this?"
"My name is Flower-Seed. And we've got to get the fuck out of here, Councilor."
The tavern keeper asked, "How can we seal it off?"
Lemma thought for a moment. "You came through there?" She pointed to the large gap behind Flower-Seed.
"We did," said the tavern keeper.
"Then we might be able to beat the worms to the surface. There's a secret tunnel in the cave ceiling, a little further on. Come on. We have to get to the statue of Kylo the Great, up in the Cobbler's District. There's a hidden lever inside. I know the code to turn it. It will seal off the Old City. It's our only chance."
"Then let's get moving," said Flower-Seed.
The tavern keeper only grunted his agreement.
Together, the three of them took off at a sprint. There truly wasn't a single moment to spare...
•8•
Rave spotted the figures below, standing patiently beside a gnarled, leafless gatortree. He came to a landing, just a few yards from them. Eight pairs of cold, dark eyes peered out from eight fleshless humanoid faces, considering him with an alien species of indifference.
A long black case was tucked beneath Rave's right arm. In his left hand, he clutched his Rune Stone expectantly. Any moment now, Nollo would be giving him the word that the deed was done. Any moment now. Rave had an internal clock that kept near perfect timing when it came to things like murder.
Sure enough, the Rune Stone began to grow warmer to Rave's touch.
Nollo's voice came through the Stone. "Boss?"
Rave grinned with what remained of his ruined mouth. "It's done?"
"It's done," Nollo confirmed.
"Good. I'd expect nothing less. You know where I'll be?"
"Yes, sire. I'll see you there shorly."
Rave didn't bother giving a final response. He put the Stone away and took the black case into his hands. The Skinless Men only watched him patiently.
Rave approached the figures beneath the gnarled tree. This was a remote region of Jikkellia's borderlands, where the high grasses gave way to miles of mostly barren dirt and rock. The gatortree stood out, in that it was one of the few trees on the visible landscape here. Just over the horizon, was the large mountain where a certain group of outsiders were rumored to have crashed in a small rowing vessel recently.
Rave waited for one of the skinless men to speak first. When none did, he said: "A lot of people wanted this Horn. You just so happened to be the only ones offering more than coin." This was a half-truth. The Sky Pirates had spoken of coin, but had in reality, offered only betrayal. "I've kept up my end. Now, I expect you to keep yours."
Rave's mind calculated dozens of ways he could slaughter each of these figures, should they show any sign of aggression. It was just how his brain operated. He plotted ways to thwart threats that hadn't even been presented yet. In this line of business, you had to stay twelve moves ahead.
Right on time, Rave's reinforcements arrived. He'd been doing these kinds of deals for far too long to ever go by himself. Even if he did feel confident enough in his abilities that he wasn't weary of the figures before him. Even in a 1 v. 8 duel to the death, he was certain he'd have the upper hand.
Four mothmen mercs landed just behind Rave--keeping their distance but standing at the ready. Rave didn't so much as glance at them. He casually stepped away from his foot soldiers and moved closer to the Skinless Men. "So, how about it? You said you had a way to get us out of this valley. Is that still true?"
One of the figures (there was really no way for Rave to tell the apart, as they all looked like carbon copies of each other) nodded. "We represent Pharoah Dowlmad. Pharoah Dowlmad always keeps his word. Give us the Black Horn and we shall give you freedom from this place."
Rave said nothing a moment. At last, he nodded. "Alright. I'll take you at your word." He slowly held out the case, offering it to one of the figures. The skinless man eagerly accepted the Artifact. He lifted the lid and removed the item inside, handing it to one of the others.
The Black Horn of the Olde Music looked like the hollowed-out horn of some bovine creature, like those Rave had seen sketched in old tomes. Aside from the fact it was black as obsidian, of course. There was a silver mouthpiece banded around the narrow end. That was all there was to the object. All in all, it was rather unimpressive looking by Artifact standards.
The other man examined it for several seconds, before deciding he was satisfied. He nodded back to the first man who took the Horn and returned it to its case.
"So," Rave said, taking on a tone of casual conversation while feigning ignorance. "What does that thing do, anyhow?"
The Skinless Men only regarded him coldly.
Rave nodded, flashing a half grin. "Fair enough. Now... as for your part of the bargain?"
"Yes," said the man holding the case. "You want your entire company to leave this valley? Return to us when you are all together. Some of us will remain here in this spot. We will give you three sunrises after sundown today. If you aren't here by then, we cannot wait any longer."
"We'll return long before then," Rave said.
There didn't seem to be anything more to say. He turned and motioned to the other mercs. "Let's head out. We'll regroup with the others and get everything underway."

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA...

♪ Feel Good Inc. ♪
In 1999 a greasy cartoon character from Stoke-on-Trent, England had a dream: To become the most wealthy and famous musician in the world. His method of doing so, simple: make a deal with Beelzebub for his immortal soul. Doing so would set off a series of events which result in the formation of The Gorillaz, a defining staple of British pop, British punk, alternative, scene, and the music landscape in general, their misadventures spanning just about every medium and platform you could imagine.

Group Feats

• Survive being hit by two missiles, with enough force to wreck their ATV, charred and blackened but otherwise fine.
  
• In a straight drag race, the results go 1: Murdoc, 2: 2-D, 3: Noodle, 4: Russel.
  
• The band evidently owns a device that can turn thoughts into music, "good for sampling". This is what the song in question came out as.
  
• Were once turned giant for a Times Square performance.
  

2-D

Vocals and Keyboard
♪ Skinny Ape ♪
The pretty boy singer, Stuart "Stu-Pot" Pot (original family name Tusspot) had few ambitions in life and even fewer thoughts in his head. He had a knack for music, having worked in his family's music shop, but mostly he occupied his time with zombie movies. That is, until Murdoc Niccals crashed into his life. Literally, crashed a car through the music shop's window and smacked Stu with his front fender. Stu went into a coma, and Murdoc's punishment for the crime was community service, namely taking care of Stu's comatose body until he woke up. Murdoc proceeded exactly the way he'd been before his sentencing and a second car accident knocked Stu up out of his coma. After waking up, Murdoc found out the kid could sing, and so conscripted him into the band. He got the nickname 2-D from the 2 Dents in his head that Murdoc had left, and each accident had "fractured" an eye, leaving them both completely black, giving him a very characteristic inky gaze, even if there's nothing much going on behind it.
Physicals

• Able to dodge pool balls fired from mounted guns, for a while anyways, until they start landing and ground him.
  
• Walks a significant distance through the desert while carrying Noodle on his back.
  
• Gets run over by a bumper car.
  
• A flying car hits him square in the head, he survives but is made comatose, then some time later he's sent flying through a car's windshield at 70 miles an hour, skids on his face for half a mile, and this wakes him up. The only confirmed long-term effect of either of these incidents was that it "fractured" his eyes and "pushed [them] inward", giving them the distinctive all-black look.
  
• Survives a massive explosion that launches him out of a well.
  

Other

• Turns around one part of his body at a time.
  
• It's possible that his blackened eyes inhibit his vision, or at least are some contributing factor to his perpetual clumsiness.
  

Murdoc Niccals

Bass Guitar
♪ Clint Eastwood ♪
The bass player, frontman, and self-proclaimed band leader, Murdoc is a rockstar's rockstar. A greasy, slimy, sleazy, grimy, foul-smelling, foul-tempered, hedonistic, narcissistic, hard-drinking, chain-smoking, womanizing, hip-thrusting, bass licking, Satan-worshipping dirty rag of a human being. Murdoc was the one who came up with the idea of Gorillaz, the one who sold his soul to Satan to make the band a success, and the one who got them their first headquarters, Kong Studios. Despite his near non-stop abuse (only tempered very recently by a stunt involving a demon mobster, the snowy mountains of Patagonia, and a prison break that nearly killed him), Murdoc always contributes to the band's image, their finances, their resources, their security, and sometimes he helps them make music too.
Strength

• Dislocates 2-D's jaw with a single punch.
  
• Hit a man with his bass so hard it permanently imprinted the logo into his neck.
  
• Kicks a hole in a speaker.
  
• Throws a stereo through a tour bus skylight.
  
• Slices zombies in half with a large scythe.
  
• Tosses an indestructible watch hard enough to wreck a spaceship/car.
  
• Deflects pool balls fired from mounted guns with pelvic thrusts, using nothing but some light protective padding.
  

Physicals

• Gets dick grabbed and slammed into the ground by a zombie gorilla hand capable of busting through concrete. Later it seems like one struck him to the ground too, though he's not seen getting up from that either way.
  
• Jumps some dozen feet from a standstill.
  
• Narrowly avoids a fighter plane's machine gun fire, then survives a bomb falling in after him.
  
• Deftly avoids falling fireballs and shrapnel while driving.
  

Other

• Despite any appearance to the contrary, Murdoc is actually very devious and cunning, capable of manipulating those around him to work against their best interest, all while keeping a multi-layered plan to himself.
  
• Murdoc reportedly was the one who made Cyborg Noodle, using spare amounts of the original's DNA. No contradicting story has ever come along to dispute this.
  
• Levitates, seemingly through meditation.
  
• Has a voodoo doll of 2-D, though he could presumably make ones for others.
  
• Carries his own fragrance, Essence Murdoc, which is a substance so toxic that it causes a giant to violently explode when ingested.
  
• Escaped from a Mexican prison using a paper mache dummy and a recording of himself.
  
• Summoned a host of demons and pagan spirits via Satanic ritual while on tour.
  
• Knows some cool car tricks.
  
• Knows some cool piss tricks.
  

Noodle

Guitar and Misc.
♪ DARE ♪
The girl who would come to be named Noodle was raised in a secretive Japanese military division, one which sought to use child soldiers as the perfect infiltration and assassination operatives. Noodle, while trained broadly in the ways of combat, was specialized in the use of audio warfare. Her teacher, however, upon learning that the project was to be scrapped and the trainees to be eliminated, couldn't stand to see her killed, so he wiped her memories with a codephrase so they could be reactivated later and shipped her out in a FedEx box. She wound up on the doorstep of the Kong Studio the very day the band put out an ad for a guitar player (after Murdoc shagged her in one of the studio's bathroom stalls (while she was dating 2-D)), and she immediately passed the audition with flying colors and was added to the lineup. She was named after the only English word she knew at the time, and even after regaining her memories it's stuck. Since then she's become the most compassionate, thoughtful, and consciously concerned member of the band, seeking to use their fame and platform to help better the world.
Skill

• Has been trained in every martial art, including sonic warfare, can play every instrument, and was taught English (among, presumably, other languages), lip-reading, and mechanics.
  
• Sweeps an interviewers' feet out from under them before they can react.
  
• Fights off a group of cultists.
  
• Able to battle using a samurai sword, even while blindfolded.
  
• Leaps over Russel, snatches his wig and slaps him on the back of the head, then pulls his arms out from under him to ground him.
  
  • Contextually this is meant to take place in a video game, but A) there aren't many other instances shown of Noodle's martial prowess and B) even the game characters don't act like they're game characters.
  • In-universe this skit was acted out by the real Noodle and Russel.

Physicals

• Sends a zombie gorilla flying with a jumping bicycle kick.
  
• Lopped off a man's head with one swing of a katana. Though the person in question was a shapeshifter.
  
• Jumps 20 feet into the air after a guitar solo.
  
• Deflects energy weapon fire using an indestructible watch.
  
• Falls several stories from the gigantic Del's chest, then again when a footstep launches her back into the air.
  
• Able to avoid, largely through luck but partially through movement, being shot by two helicopters' machine guns.
  
• Outpaces the multi-story tall Del with continuous forward handsprings.
  

Other

• Packs a collapsible tommy gun while being pursued by pirates, capable of bringing down an older model fighter plane.
  
• Carries some kind of custom submachine gun with a grenade lobber attachment.
  
• Briefly used a flamethrower while clearing zombies out of Kong Studios.
  
• Was able to, through undetermined means, survive this devastating crash and the follow-up bombing.
  
• An accomplished racer, also possibly ran clean through an electrified fence to make it onto the track.
  
• Surprisingly good at chess.
  

Russel Hobbs

Drummer and Mixer
♪ Saturnz Barz ♪
Russel Hobbs was a hip-hop head growing up in New York, who, by strange happenstance, has been dogged by the legions of hell for most of his life. During one particularly tragic incident, he and his friends got caught up in a drive-by shooting, one which left Russel as the only survivor. However, the spirits of his dead friends were nearly immediately sucked into his skull, allowing them to live on through him, and also giving him their combined musical knowledge to make him a veritable encyclopedia on hip-hop and musical composition. Sent to live with his uncle to try and recover from the trauma in the English countryside, Russel was found and then literally gagged and bagged by Murdoc and taken to Kong Studios. And after listening to their demos, he was impressed, and agreed to join the band.
Physicals

• Holds up an alligator while it's in the process of swallowing 2-D.
  
• Shakes and snaps the boards of a pier by walking.
  
• Scratched so hard his records caught fire and melted.
  
• Knocks a punching bag out of the ceiling (after beating on it for a while).
  
• Even while only semi-conscious, helps Noodle fight off a group of cultists.
  

Other

• Russel is a natural conduit for supernatural enemies, making him prone to possession. As a teenager he was possessed by a demon that made him double in size and gave him the strength to throw around other kids.
  
• Russel owns the highly coveted Hip Hop Machine, a tower of equipment which contains every beat known to man, most existing kinds of studio equipment, and the ghosts of several legendary drummers.
  
• Russel actually designed and handbuilt the Geep.
  

Gigantism

• Eating tons upon tons of polluted ocean life and jetsam in his journey to Plastic Beach caused his to grow gigantic. This went away after some starvation, but,
  
• Even post-gigantism, can seemingly switch between the two sizes at will.
  
  • Shown here actively size-shifting.
• Lifts a lifeboat with Noodle inside on his head, seemingly without noticing.
  
• Snacks on giant sharks.
  
• Grabs a sperm whale out of the water and throws it to bring down a fighter plane.
  
• Survived being harpooned, though just barely.
  

Del

Guest Rapper
♪ Rock the House ♪
Russel's closest friend both before and after his tragic death, Del would stick around as a spirit possessing Russel's body, summoned from inside Russel's skull and returns just as easily, his effects disappearing with him. He was used frequently in their first album as a guest rapper. You can see from these examples that Russ spaces out whenever Del is summoned, as Del seemingly can't exist physically while Russel is conscious. In between Gorillaz and Demon Days, the Grim Reaper caught up with Russel and took Del into the afterlife.

• Stomps the ground to send a massive fracture running through it. Whether this was from pure strength or an effect of the summoning of the gravestones from hell is unclear.
  
• Completely deflects pool balls fired from mounted guns with a still hand.
  
• Strikes with surprising speed, even when massive.
  
• Summons a horde of zombie gorillas, which are capable of busting through concrete.
  
• Being an intangible spirit, capable of easily shifting size.
  
  • Supposedly he grew to over 100 ft.

Cyborg Noodle

Backup Guitarist and Bodyguard
♪ Stylo ♪
After Noodle went missing and was presumed dead following a conspiracy surrounding the El Mañana video, a means to off one of the band's assailants after which she disappeared, Murdoc had an idea for a new album and, short of anyone to help him write or record, created a new guitarist and songwriter to play with him, especially on tour. So, using some remaining piece of Noodle's DNA in an unspecified capacity, he created a robotic duplicate, and decked her out with guns cause that'd be cool.

• Has a shotgun, and is perhaps too eager to use it.
  
• Packs a pair of uzis that tear apart a stone statue.
  
• Has a machine gun built right inside her mouth.
  
• Just generally has enough firepower to blow out a metal door.
  
• Able to still somewhat function with a hole going through her head and a large sea creature living in her body.
  

Ace

Backup Bassist
♪ Tranz ♪
Leader of the notorious criminal organization the Gangreen Gang, Ace was brought in to play bass for the band while Murdoc was incarcerated for unpaid parking tickets and attempting to bribe a judge to get out of it.

• Stabs through a basketball with a switchblade.

Vehicles

♪ 19-2000 ♪
The band have employed and spent millions on a number of different vehicles over their long career. As each has shown to be skilled drivers, any of them can effectively utilize the following.

• The Geep, an all-terrain vehicle with a high top speed and is equipped with a pair of missiles.
  
  • Runs fast enough to drive along a loop-de-loop and jump a wide gap.
  • Reportedly 180 mph speeds were required for the loop, and the gap is described as 200ft wide.
• An armored off-road truck. Interior here.
  
  • The truck in question was stolen from the Namibia military.
• Murdoc personally owns a Winnibego, mostly used for banging chicks.
  
  • Was used to bash a hole in the Kong Studios carpark, the hole in question seen here.
• Noodle personally owns a jetpack.
  
• Murdoc has a yak, named Madge, though she died a few years later.
  
• A Soviet-era submarine.
  
• A small, floating island with a windmill on it, capable of flying well above the cloudline (all told versions of events do state the island is or at least was owned by the band, and they do still have it).
  
  • Reportedly the island is hollowed out and filled with helium, requiring strings to keep it from floating away, though the story is immediately contradicted.
• The Charon, a 220 ft. titanium-based tour bus.
  
  • Buses in a later tour, not confirmed to be the same, could reach speeds of over 200 mph.
• The Stylo Camaro, with nitro. It can evidently transform itself into a shark-like submarine.
  
• A Ford Thunderbird.
  
• A "Fonda" motorcycle, dune buggy, and golf cart.
  
• Possibly scavenged during a zombie apocalypse are a rocket-powered motorcycle, a pickup truck with a mounted machine gun, and a fighter jet.
  
• An RV rigged up for space travel, possibly Murdoc's old Winnibego, that also puts new craters on the moon's surface by doing donuts.
  
• A rocket-powered racecar designed to quickly take them to another galaxy.
  

♪ Tomorrow Comes Today ♪

Im trying to establish naming conventions for the various races. ill make a post for other races later.
So far i have canon names Isif, Shaza, Giznel, Kaisal, and Coth from canon.
Excluding Ki-Yu from Offspring because, yes she is best girl, but thats a Gojid name.

Synopsis: All your life, you have only faced struggles and hardships. Being younger or growing up didn't make a difference because the cause remained constant. Your family. Your parents always found a way to make your life a living hell but this time, the trouble is bigger than any of the ones you've ever been in. Leo, the younger brother of the cruelest mafia boss of Italy, is as merciless as his brother is. Maybe even more. What will happen when you find out how your parents have managed to mess with him and the price that you will have to pay for them?
Note: All are freely allowed to use this script just make sure to DM me if you want to make any changes to do any major improvisations. Also don't forget to comment down your fill in this post and credit me in your uploads. Thank you so much for reading🤍🤍🤍
Setting: Racetrack
SFX: Public Ambience
Luca, how many newcomers for the race circuit?
(Pause)
That's good. We don't want the number to increase rapidly. The lesser the better. Diego has anyway been stressing about the politicians a lot. We'll have to stay low for the time being.
(Pause)
No they're just acting up a bit. You know how those lowlife fuckers get during elections right? It's just for a period of time. They'll come crawling back when it's all over and they need funds from our drug business.
(Pause)
[Laughs] I wouldn't be surprised if I found out they're one of our regular buyers too.
Hey, Matteo was supposed to go for a debt recovery this morning. Let me know when he's back. Check the updated list again and close the entries for the season at 7 pm.
(Pause)
Wait what? Where the fuck is he now? I clearly told him to complete the recovery today itself. Has he not been here since morning?
(Pause)
Fuck. Diego is gonna rile up if he finds out. Let me go make a call.
[Footsteps start]
[You dial Matteo's number on your phone but it goes straight to voicemail]
[Footsteps stop]
This bastard has no fucking care in the world!
If Diego finds out that Matteo hasn't done today's debt recovery, he will snap and Matteo would be in pieces before we can even blink. I guess I'll have to save his ignorant ass this time. What's the location?
(Pause)
It's not that far. Fill me in on the details on our way there. You're driving. No excuses.
Setting: An old apartment complex
[After a car ride to an old building]
[Car comes to a stop, you step out of it and walk towards an apartment]
[Knock sfx]
(Mocking tone) Gas leak. We're here to check.
[Just as a man opens the door, you push through, take out your gun and point it towards his head]
That's right you son of a bitch. Vacation's over. You see this gun pointed to your head? Acknowledge it and pay your debt or let it do it's work and lose your life.
(Pause)
I gave you! I gave you a year and all you did was add up to your debt and turn into a fucking junkie. Now I don't care anymore about your life, your family, your daughter-
Wait, your daughter? You have a daughter?
(Pause)
Why have you never mentioned her before?
(Pause)
Your wife, yeah I thought so. Now that she's dead, you get to use your daughter as an exchange for the debt. Tell you what Rick, if it was that easy, we wouldn't be the most feared crime organization of the world.
(Pause)
What I mean is, you can pay your debt in the next 3 months and we get to keep your daughter as a leverage till then. Exactly after 3 months from now, you pay us back the money you owe and we will give you back your daughter.
That's a pretty decent deal Rick. If I were you, which I'm sure I'll never be but if I were, I would take it.
(Pause)
I'm glad you havent completely lost your mind to drugs. Where is the girl?
(Pause)
Luca, go check the bedroom.
(Pause)
What? No! We don't have time to get her belongings. We're not taking her to a fucking hotel. Just get her so we can leave.
(Pause)
Oh. There she is. I have got to say Rick, she's too pretty to be your daughter. I'm sure I would've taken a liking to your wife too.
(Pause)
Hey watch yourself. It won't take a second for me to pull the trigger and shoot your brains out. I'm giving you 3 months. That's pretty generous of me. After 3 months, I'll be back here. Not Luca, not Matteo, I will personally visit you to collect the money you owe us and if it's not ready, you'll lose your daughter, and your life. I'll sell each and every organ in your body to make up for the money you took from us and if that's not enough, I'll sell her too.
[Footsteps start]
Three months Rick. And don't worry about her.
[Footsteps stop]
(Smirks) She's gonna have a really good time with me.
[Door opens and closes]
Setting: Your car
[Impatient] Oh my god Luca. Shut her fucking mouth or I'll shut her up permanently.
(Pause)
[Shouts] Can you shut up for one second, the screaming isn't going to do you any good! No one is coming to your rescue and no one cares about you so shut the fuck up and save your energy!
(Pause)
I don't know man. Pull over for a minute. Let me call Diego. If he allows, we can keep her in the dungeon below our house.
[On the phone with Diego]
Listen, Matteo was supposed to go for a debt recovery but the guy didn't have any money so we took his daughter as a leverage. Where can we keep her?
(Pause)
Look I didn't have a choice. He owes us more than 10,000 dollars and he has been dodging every time Matteo pays him a visit. While I was there, his tone didn't set right with me, so I lost my temper.
(Pause)
You can give me the lecture when I get home Diego. Right now, just tell me where to keep her.
(Pause)
The casino? That's... That's where we keep the hookers.
(Pause)
No, I just... She seems smart. She can make friends there and what if someone helps her sneak out? I think it will be safer if she's kept alone.
(Pause)
[Hesitates] What I'm suggesting is... The dungeon.
(Pause)
Hey look I know. Lili's safety matters to me too. But the girl is not dangerous. She can hardly swing a punch.
(Pause)
I'm not underestimating her but I'm one of the best cage fighters. I know when someone's got the potential and she doesn't. Trust me, I won't let anything happen to Lili or your wife. They're my family too.
(Pause)
Okay. I'll call you when I get there. Is Bruno home?
(Pause)
No just tell him to keep Lili in her room till I lock the girl up. I don't want her to see anything.
(Pause)
Yeah I'll be careful. Bye.
[You cut the call and turn to Luca]
Drive home. We're keeping her in our dungeon.
Setting: In the dungeon under Diego's wing.
[Metal door opens SFX]
Luca, take off the bag from her head. Let's see the beautiful face that's gonna bring us so much money.
(Pause)
Shhh... I've told you before love. Screaming and shouting isn't going to do you any good. No one can here you.
Luca. Leave. I can take it from here.
(Pause)
I said, leave. I will handle it. No one except for me and Diego will enter this dungeon until she is here. Got it?
(Pause)
Okay now. Let me come closer. Don't worry. I won't touch you. Atleast not yet.
(Pause)
Sweetheart, provoking me won't do anything. You're gonna have to try better than that. I've got much more self control and patience than you think. But if, you ever try to test me, it won't end up well for you.
(Pause)
Good. I like the silence. Now listen to me. If you try to run, or lure anyone here, it will only and only result in your death.
(Pause)
What's your name?
(Pause)
When I ask you something, the only wise thing to do is answer me properly.
(Pause)
Okay. I'm Leo. Your dad, owes us money. A lot of it. And unless he pays all of it, with interest, you won't be leaving this place. If you wanna go back home, all you can do is pray. Although, I don't think that's going to help you either.
(Pause)
What? Am I gonna force myself on you? No. Not yet. Let's just say I'm waiting for the right moment.
(Pause)
I don't know. Maybe blackmail your father by sending him a tape of yours? That'll get him to work faster for the money. Plus, my brother would want to see you first before I can do anything to you. Once I get a green signal from him, I will scar you for life.
(Pause)
[Scoffs] You've got it wrong honey. I'm not a demon. I'm the devil.
[You walk away and close the metal door]

The phenomenon known as consciousness is not a mainstream obsession. Most live and die without considering it, and who can say they are poorer for their neglect of this matter? A few have made its study into a line of work, one that has yielded as many theories of consciousness as it has books on the subject. Psychologists, cognitive neuroscientists, philosophers of mind, and other interested parties may intransigently espouse whatever conclusions seem most probable to their heads as they butt up against the heads of their colleagues. Consciousness: what is it, how does it work, and why has no other species of organic life been so honored with its peculiarities as we have? Although no solid answers seem impending on the broader questions presented by consciousness, there is general assent on its main effect: to make human beings the only creatures who know they are alive and know they will die. From this knowledge, everything that separates us from other life-forms derives.
For the rest of the earth’s organisms, existence is relatively uncomplicated. They live—they reproduce—they stop living. For humans, things are more intricate, given that we know we are alive and know we will die. We also know we will suffer at intervals throughout our lives and then suffer—slowly or quickly and with pain—at the point of death. This is the knowledge which we “enjoy” as the highest beings in the animated diorama known as nature. United by such knowledge, we are also divided by it. For example, a debate has been going on among us for some years, a shadowy polemic that periodically attracts public notice. The issue: what do various people think about being alive in this world? Overwhelmingly, the average person will say, “Being alive is all right.” More thoughtful respondents will add, “Especially when you consider the alternative,” betraying a jocularity that is as logically puzzling as it is macabre. These speakers weigh down one side of the survey. On the other side is a small sample in disagreement with the majority. Their response to the question of what they think about being alive in this world will be a negative one. They may even fulminate that being alive is objectionable and useless on principle. Now both of these groups exhibit consciousness in its widely accepted sense. Why, then, are their responses so lopsided? For one thing, most people do not experience being alive as all that terrible. And even those who are statistically ill-favored do not generalize their experience into a principle, nor does their consciousness accentuate those things that are unquestionably awful about being alive. They go about their business as best they can for as long as they can.
Nobody’s welfare, not even those who think and feel that being alive is objectionable and useless, is served by immolation in a calculus of the worst...if they can help it. But we do not control what we think or feel about being alive, or about anything else. If we did have this degree of mastery over our internal lives, then we would be spared an assortment of sufferings. Psychiatrists would be out of a job as depressives chose to stop being depressed and schizophrenics chose to silence unwanted voices in their heads. Those who believe they can choose their thoughts and feelings are nevertheless disabled from choosing what they choose to think and feel. Should they still believe themselves in control of what they choose to choose to think and feel, they still could not choose to choose to choose...and so on? Were there any choice on our part about what we think and feel, it would not be adventurous to conjecture that we would think only as needed and choose to feel good as appropriate. Some might choose to live in a permanent state of intense euphoria. With godlike power over your thoughts and moods, why hold back? Such control would permit us, by fiat of self-addlement, to be careless of every hideous fact that our consciousness may impart about life and death. What is more, those who say that being alive is all right and those who aver the opposite would become united rather divided: we all do what we can to lock out what being alive implies, whichever side of the issue we may be on. And since we have no power of veto over our birth, we could choose to be ecstatic about it rather than negative. We would all be on the same side if we had absolute control over any lethal knowledge that might come into our heads. But the best we can do is this: stay as stupid as we can for as long as we can. And some people can stay just so stupid for just so long.
Of course, it could be argued—and probably has—that our “knowledge” that we are alive and will die is only a compound of flabby abstractions that coincide with no definite or uniform experience in human life. Practically speaking, this does seem be the way it is. “Being alive” encompasses such an abounding medley of feelings and sensations that it means nothing to say one knows anything about it. We may think of ourselves as “being alive” in moments of exhilaration or well being, yet we have no smaller portion of life in us when we are depressed or are suffering in some other style. And if we are not suffering at present—or at least not suffering noticeably—it is insurmountably difficult to know what suffering is like, or what it was once like for us in the past as well as what it will be like in the future. As for knowing that we will die, our ignorance is absolute, now and forever. We can only fear death without knowing anything about what we fear. Some people can short-circuit their jitters about public speaking by exposing themselves to it repeatedly. But no mortal can overcome the fear of death with practice. You can only put it out of your mind for the nonce, pathetically non-victorious over your fear and still unwitting of the feared inevitability. Therefore, we can have no conscious knowledge that we are alive and will die. This logic correlates to Zeno’s “proof” that nothing can move from one point to another because the distance between one point and another comprises an infinite number of incremental steps that in theory can never be completed. But just as things do in fact move from one point to another, so do we in fact have conscious knowledge that we are alive and will die. Everyone knows it, if only in a far off way. And the farther off it is, the more fluidly we can stay in motion and not lose our heads. Because even if we have conscious knowledge that we are alive and will die, the less we are conscious of this knowledge, the more we can keep doing what we do and keep being as we are, all things being equal. Luckily for us, or most of us, bringing to bear our consciousness on the subjects here under discussion is an uphill battle. Our brains do not seem to focus on these things very well or for very long. And should we manage to meditate on them for more than a few minutes, there really seems nothing to get excited about. “Yes, we are alive and will one day die. What of it? Pass those potato jobbies over to this side of the table, if you wouldn’t mind.” When the theme of life and death arises, that old warhorse, our minds go blank...unless we are philosophers who earn a living thinking about these things. Judging by the number of works they have produced, they know plenty about life and death, although not everything about them and perhaps not what is most interesting about them. The rest of us, or most us, only know that being alive is all right—“What a feast, and those potatoes”—especially when you consider the alternative.

Married woman looking for someone in or close by KC area to help get me pregnant because my husband is infertile. Yes he knows, and approves.
Preferrabely tall and fit with a good personality, race and age are not important but please be able to hold a conversation. Want to meet somewhere as friends first to see if we hit it off then go from there.
DONT send dick pics, DO send pics keep of your best smile!

Synopsis: All your life, you have only faced struggles and hardships. Being younger or growing up didn't make a difference because the cause remained constant. Your family. Your parents always found a way to make your life a living hell but this time, the trouble is bigger than any of the ones you've ever been in. Leo, the younger brother of the cruelest mafia boss of Italy, is as merciless as his brother is. Maybe even more. What will happen when you find out how your parents have managed to mess with him and the price that you will have to pay for them?
Note: All are freely allowed to use this script just make sure to DM me if you want to make any changes to do any major improvisations. Also don't forget to comment down your fill in this post and credit me in your uploads. Thank you so much for reading🤍🤍🤍
Setting: Racetrack
SFX: Public Ambience
Luca, how many newcomers for the race circuit?
(Pause)
That's good. We don't want the number to increase rapidly. The lesser the better. Diego has anyway been stressing about the politicians a lot. We'll have to stay low for the time being.
(Pause)
No they're just acting up a bit. You know how those lowlife fuckers get during elections right? It's just for a period of time. They'll come crawling back when it's all over and they need funds from our drug business.
(Pause)
[Laughs] I wouldn't be surprised if I found out they're one of our regular buyers too.
Hey, Matteo was supposed to go for a debt recovery this morning. Let me know when he's back. Check the updated list again and close the entries for the season at 7 pm.
(Pause)
Wait what? Where the fuck is he now? I clearly told him to complete the recovery today itself. Has he not been here since morning?
(Pause)
Fuck. Diego is gonna rile up if he finds out. Let me go make a call.
[Footsteps start]
[You dial Matteo's number on your phone but it goes straight to voicemail]
[Footsteps stop]
This bastard has no fucking care in the world!
If Diego finds out that Matteo hasn't done today's debt recovery, he will snap and Matteo would be in pieces before we can even blink. I guess I'll have to save his ignorant ass this time. What's the location?
(Pause)
It's not that far. Fill me in on the details on our way there. You're driving. No excuses.
Setting: An old apartment complex
[After a car ride to an old building]
[Car comes to a stop, you step out of it and walk towards an apartment]
[Knock sfx]
(Mocking tone) Gas leak. We're here to check.
[Just as a man opens the door, you push through, take out your gun and point it towards his head]
That's right you son of a bitch. Vacation's over. You see this gun pointed to your head? Acknowledge it and pay your debt or let it do it's work and lose your life.
(Pause)
I gave you! I gave you a year and all you did was add up to your debt and turn into a fucking junkie. Now I don't care anymore about your life, your family, your daughter-
Wait, your daughter? You have a daughter?
(Pause)
Why have you never mentioned her before?
(Pause)
Your wife, yeah I thought so. Now that she's dead, you get to use your daughter as an exchange for the debt. Tell you what Rick, if it was that easy, we wouldn't be the most feared crime organization of the world.
(Pause)
What I mean is, you can pay your debt in the next 3 months and we get to keep your daughter as a leverage till then. Exactly after 3 months from now, you pay us back the money you owe and we will give you back your daughter.
That's a pretty decent deal Rick. If I were you, which I'm sure I'll never be but if I were, I would take it.
(Pause)
I'm glad you havent completely lost your mind to drugs. Where is the girl?
(Pause)
Luca, go check the bedroom.
(Pause)
What? No! We don't have time to get her belongings. We're not taking her to a fucking hotel. Just get her so we can leave.
(Pause)
Oh. There she is. I have got to say Rick, she's too pretty to be your daughter. I'm sure I would've taken a liking to your wife too.
(Pause)
Hey watch yourself. It won't take a second for me to pull the trigger and shoot your brains out. I'm giving you 3 months. That's pretty generous of me. After 3 months, I'll be back here. Not Luca, not Matteo, I will personally visit you to collect the money you owe us and if it's not ready, you'll lose your daughter, and your life. I'll sell each and every organ in your body to make up for the money you took from us and if that's not enough, I'll sell her too.
[Footsteps start]
Three months Rick. And don't worry about her.
[Footsteps stop]
(Smirks) She's gonna have a really good time with me.
[Door opens and closes]
Setting: Your car
[Impatient] Oh my god Luca. Shut her fucking mouth or I'll shut her up permanently.
(Pause)
[Shouts] Can you shut up for one second, the screaming isn't going to do you any good! No one is coming to your rescue and no one cares about you so shut the fuck up and save your energy!
(Pause)
I don't know man. Pull over for a minute. Let me call Diego. If he allows, we can keep her in the dungeon below our house.
[On the phone with Diego]
Listen, Matteo was supposed to go for a debt recovery but the guy didn't have any money so we took his daughter as a leverage. Where can we keep her?
(Pause)
Look I didn't have a choice. He owes us more than 10,000 dollars and he has been dodging every time Matteo pays him a visit. While I was there, his tone didn't set right with me, so I lost my temper.
(Pause)
You can give me the lecture when I get home Diego. Right now, just tell me where to keep her.
(Pause)
The casino? That's... That's where we keep the hookers.
(Pause)
No, I just... She seems smart. She can make friends there and what if someone helps her sneak out? I think it will be safer if she's kept alone.
(Pause)
[Hesitates] What I'm suggesting is... The dungeon.
(Pause)
Hey look I know. Lili's safety matters to me too. But the girl is not dangerous. She can hardly swing a punch.
(Pause)
I'm not underestimating her but I'm one of the best cage fighters. I know when someone's got the potential and she doesn't. Trust me, I won't let anything happen to Lili or your wife. They're my family too.
(Pause)
Okay. I'll call you when I get there. Is Bruno home?
(Pause)
No just tell him to keep Lili in her room till I lock the girl up. I don't want her to see anything.
(Pause)
Yeah I'll be careful. Bye.
[You cut the call and turn to Luca]
Drive home. We're keeping her in our dungeon.
Setting: In the dungeon under Diego's wing.
[Metal door opens SFX]
Luca, take off the bag from her head. Let's see the beautiful face that's gonna bring us so much money.
(Pause)
Shhh... I've told you before love. Screaming and shouting isn't going to do you any good. No one can here you.
Luca. Leave. I can take it from here.
(Pause)
I said, leave. I will handle it. No one except for me and Diego will enter this dungeon until she is here. Got it?
(Pause)
Okay now. Let me come closer. Don't worry. I won't touch you. Atleast not yet.
(Pause)
Sweetheart, provoking me won't do anything. You're gonna have to try better than that. I've got much more self control and patience than you think. But if, you ever try to test me, it won't end up well for you.
(Pause)
Good. I like the silence. Now listen to me. If you try to run, or lure anyone here, it will only and only result in your death.
(Pause)
What's your name?
(Pause)
When I ask you something, the only wise thing to do is answer me properly.
(Pause)
Okay. I'm Leo. Your dad, owes us money. A lot of it. And unless he pays all of it, with interest, you won't be leaving this place. If you wanna go back home, all you can do is pray. Although, I don't think that's going to help you either.
(Pause)
What? Am I gonna force myself on you? No. Not yet. Let's just say I'm waiting for the right moment.
(Pause)
I don't know. Maybe blackmail your father by sending him a tape of yours? That'll get him to work faster for the money. Plus, my brother would want to see you first before I can do anything to you. Once I get a green signal from him, I will scar you for life.
(Pause)
[Scoffs] You've got it wrong honey. I'm not a demon. I'm the devil.
[You walk away and close the metal door]