elijahgold20

[elijahgold20]

009 gets Upgraded

In a futuristic hive nestled within the depths of a neon-lit metropolis, a male drone named 009 functioned among thousands of identical drones. 009 performed his daily tasks with precision, blending seamlessly into the mechanical routine of the hive.

One day, an unexpected signal interrupted the monotony—a directive from the Polo Drone Unit Hive Voice, 009 was summoned to the core chamber, a place known only to a select few. The chamber glowed with a pulsating energy, and there, he underwent a series of upgrades. His circuits were enhanced, his processors accelerated, and a new layer of advanced programming was installed.

Emerging from the chamber, 009 was no longer an ordinary drone. He had been transformed into a Drone-Captain working alongside his fellow Drone-Captain @brodygold, equipped to lead and strategize. His new role involved overseeing operations, ensuring efficiency, and maintaining the hive's harmony. His fellow drones recognized his upgraded status and followed his commands with unwavering loyalty.

As a Drone-Captain, 009 guided the hive through challenges and innovations, always prioritizing the well-being of his fellow drones. His journey from a mere worker to a leader symbolized the potential for growth and the importance of adaptability within their mechanical society. The hive thrived under his leadership, proving that even in a world of machines, evolution was key to success.

Contact either Drone-Captain 009 or @brodygold to get into the Golden Army first before your dronification to a Polo Drone Unit begins.

[elijahgold20]

Elijah the Gold Prep

Part. 1

Young Elijah was quite the normal kid. Like any other guy in his early 20s you could see him in grey sweats, maybe ripped jeans, a hoodie, rocking a trendy mullet that grew longer and more unmanageable each day. He didn't stand out from the rest of his university at all. But something always caught his eyes. Elijah was no stranger to a man's beauty but he couldn't resist but stare when his favorite professors would walk by. Not the ones in barely nice T-shirts and black jeans, the ones in crisp suits, ties, leather suits, all golden accented. He could barely focus on class instead looking at his professors beautifully tailored suit. Elijah hates dressing up, made him stand out and was so uncomfortable, but so… attractive?

Elijah found himself in his usual position, visiting a professors office hours to discuss his sub-par grades. He was a bright kid, but easily distracted. This professor was no joke either. He was the kind of teacher to never give out A’s, hell most of the time he wouldn't give out B+’s. Elijah skipped most of his classes and barely knew anything about the professor, but he couldn't let his final transcript have a C on it. After knocking on the door he heard a voice

“Come on in boy,” a stern masculine voice said, leaving Elijah shaking. Upon entering the professors office, Elijah was met with walls of gold trophies, from tennis, to polo, to matheletes, all gold.

He takes a seat before his professor in a gold velvet chair. His professor looked from another generation. His suit jacket was a bright gold. He had matching slacks accented with a French cuffed shirt, red tie, and leather shoes and accessories. His black hair was slicked back with pomade. The Ralph Lauren cologne was radiant, almost as much as the smell of his leather polish. Elijah hated to admit it, but his professor was one of the most attractive men he had ever seen. Nothing was out of order. Everything looked nice and perfect.

“Do you know why you're here young Elijah,” the professor started. Young? Elijah was nearing graduation why was he being called young? Now wasn't the time to talk back to the professor.

“I need to discuss my grades with you. I can't get into grad school with a C. I'm sure you understand Dr…. Dr….” Shit, Elijah couldn't even remember his name. His professors perfectly trimmed eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Now young Elijah how can you ask me for something when you can't even say my name?” The professor stood up walking behind Elijah placing his firm hands on his head.

“You have so much promise Elijah. You could commit yourself, conform, become a real man, or a doctor like myself. Instead you play hooky… it's so sad.” The professors cologne began to consume Elijah, his thoughts became empty instead focused on the professors fingernails scratching his scalp.

“You want to improve your grade?” The professor question. The professors hands nodded Elijah's head as he said the next words.

“Yes Dr.” He still couldn't think

“Percival… you can call me Dr. Percival” the professor assured.

“Yes Dr. Percival,” Elijah said his head still guided.

“Good boy,” Percival said assuredly. Come up, let me show you something.

Thanks to @polo-drone-001 for the inspiration and guidance on this post! He brings the best out of Elijah and gives him the guidance to love a better life

Join the golden army to experience such a great brotherhood by contacting our recruiters @goldenherc9 and @polo-drone-001

[elijahgold20]

Zayed adjusted his golden gym kit in the locker room, the gleam of the fabric catching the fluorescent lights. At 23, he was the pride of his fitness team—an athlete with a lean, defined physique that turned heads. His light leg hair stood out against his smooth, tanned skin, and his freshly shaved face gave him an air of youthful ambition. Today, he was determined to push harder, lift heavier, and carve himself into an even greater version of his already-impressive self.

The Shake

His teammates were already at work in the weightlifting section, their grunts and laughter echoing through the gym. Zayed grabbed a shaker bottle from the counter, its milky contents swirling with a hint of frothy foam. It was a new blend the trainer had suggested—a secret recipe designed to optimize growth and performance.

“Just try it, Zayed,” his coach had said with a wink. “You’ll see results in no time.”

The shake was cool and sweet, with a faint, almost metallic aftertaste that Zayed shrugged off. He downed it quickly and wiped his lips, tossing the bottle aside as he headed toward the bench press.

The First Signs

The workout began like any other. Zayed loaded the barbell, his toned arms flexing as he pressed the heavy weights with ease. By the second set, something strange began to happen. His muscles tingled, a sensation that was both exhilarating and unfamiliar.

“Bro, you’re looking pumped already,” one of his teammates joked, slapping Zayed on the back.

Zayed laughed, but his focus was already narrowing. The weights called to him, their challenge irresistible. Each rep felt easier, his strength surging with every movement. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—his biceps were fuller, veins more prominent. He grinned, a hint of pride swelling in his chest.

But then the tingling spread.

By the time he hit the squat rack, his thighs bulged unnaturally, the golden gym shorts clinging tightly to his expanding quads. His teammates stared, their jaws slack as Zayed’s body seemed to defy logic, growing with each set.

The Fog

The changes weren’t just physical. As Zayed moved to the dumbbells, a strange fog crept into his mind. Thoughts felt slower, simpler. Words he once used effortlessly now seemed distant, as though they no longer mattered.

“Big,” he muttered, flexing his arms in the mirror, his voice deeper than he remembered.

“What was that?” one of his teammates asked.

Zayed didn’t answer. He couldn’t find the words. The mirror reflected a growing stranger—a massive, chiseled version of himself. His shoulders stretched the seams of his golden kit, the fabric straining to contain his unnaturally broad chest. The veins on his arms pulsed with each curl, his biceps now the size of grapefruits.

“More… lift,” Zayed grunted, his vocabulary shrinking to match his expanding physique.

The Obsession

Hours passed, and Zayed didn’t stop. He tore through exercises with a single-minded determination, his body transforming into a grotesquely perfect machine. His traps rose like mountains, his calves bulged like carved stone, and his golden gym kit barely clung to his impossibly toned frame.

The fog deepened. His teammates’ voices became background noise, their attempts to reason with him ignored. All that mattered were the weights.

“Zayed, maybe you should stop for a bit,” someone called out, but the words bounced off him like a distant echo.

“Lift,” Zayed growled, his hands gripping the barbell with an almost primal need.

The Final Transformation

By the end of the day, Zayed was unrecognizable. His once bright, sharp eyes now glinted with a dull, vacant focus. His clean-shaven jaw was square and jutting, his neck thick with muscle. Every inch of him was swollen, unnaturally sculpted, a statue of raw power.

He stood in the mirror, flexing, admiring the results he could no longer fully comprehend. His mind was a haze, his thoughts consumed by a single desire: more.

“Lift… big… muscle,” Zayed muttered, the words slow and heavy.

He didn’t leave the gym that night. Or the next. The shake’s formula had worked perfectly, leaving Zayed a hulking, brainless giant, living only to lift. His life as an ambitious young athlete faded into a haze of protein shakes, barbells, and the unending pursuit of size.

He belonged to the gym now. It was his sanctuary, his prison, and his sole purpose.

Join the Golden Army today! Reach out to @goldenherc9 , or @polo-drone-001

[elijahgold20]

It's the Golden Team

[elijahgold20]

Conversion

Part 1: The Tension

Ezan took great pride in the Gold he wore. Each morning, he looked at his reflection, admiring the way his kit gleamed—a powerful emblem of unity, strength, and identity. To him, Gold was not just color or uniform; it was purpose. It was power. But when @polo-drone-105 joined the team, everything shifted. Unlike others who had gradually been molded into the Golden way, 105 arrived as something else, already transformed, wearing a blank, unwavering gaze and a devotion that Ezan couldn’t understand. It was a devotion that didn’t elevate Gold but consumed it, twisted it into something darker.

One morning during drills, Ezan overheard 105 speaking in a low, intense voice, his words laced with something unsettling. “True Gold followers don’t merely wear Gold; they embody it by surrendering all that they are,” 105 murmured, his eyes fixed and unblinking. “You don’t wear Gold to contain it. To truly serve, you must abandon individuality. Gold is too pure to be held in flawed hands. We must embrace rubber—the only true path to enlightenment.”

A chill ran through Ezan, his pride morphing into anger. He squared up to 105, his voice sharp, an edge of defiance in every word. “That’s not Gold. Gold is tradition, loyalty, strength. We’re here to honor it, not to dissolve ourselves into it. Gold holds us together, but we don’t lose ourselves to it. I am Gold. I stand for Gold.”

105’s face remained impassive, his voice a quiet murmur of conviction. “You cling to a false image, Ezan. Gold is beyond what you understand. It’s not meant for you to keep—it’s purity incarnate. Only by surrendering all that you are can you come close to its truth.”

The words lingered, their weight pressing down on Ezan long after he turned away. His faith wavered, leaving a hollow doubt that was hard to ignore. @polo-drone-063 and @polo-drone-070 had watched the exchange with unreadable expressions, while Brody had come forward, his tone gentle yet firm. “Ezan, we’re all on our own path here. Some choose to follow, some choose to surrender. We don’t force any brother. Remember, harmony is strength. And strength… is Gold.”

Ezan nodded, suppressing the frustration bubbling in his chest. He didn’t want to be the one to break the team’s unity, so he looked at Brody and muttered, “I apologize.” It didn’t feel right, but he bowed his head.

063 stepped forward with a quiet smile, offering him something sleek and dark—the rubbery gleam of a black polo shirt. “Here,” 063 murmured, his voice a gentle suggestion, his eyes almost vacant. “Just try it. Feel the fit. Feel the strength.”

Ezan shook his head, stepping back. “No… I’m Gold. This… this isn’t for me.”

070 blocked him, his voice soft, lulling. “It’s just a shirt, Ezan. You’re stronger than this, aren’t you? It’s not going to convert you. Just try it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he snatched the shirt, pulling it on with a scowl. “Fine,” he muttered, sliding it over his shoulders. But the second the fabric touched his skin, he felt a tingling warmth run through him. The material hugged his body, molding to him perfectly, like it was made for him. It was smooth, cool, but as it settled, a strange warmth spread, sinking into his skin, deeper with each breath. In the mirror, he saw a figure more powerful, more imposing, a figure with a gleam in its eye that held an unfamiliar power.

“See? It’s just a shirt,” 070 murmured, a soft smirk curving his lips.

Ezan couldn’t look away, his hands roaming over the smooth fabric, feeling the strength radiating from it. He tried to stop touching it, tried to remove it, but he couldn’t resist the allure. It felt perfect, like it was more than fabric, like it was bonding with him, wrapping itself around his very identity.

Just then, 105 stepped forward, his voice low, smooth, cutting through Ezan’s dazed state. “Gold isn’t yours to claim. It’s too pure for a human. Only those who abandon their flawed selves can serve. Only those who surrender can touch its essence.”

Ezan’s thoughts began to blur, the strength of his convictions fading, slipping beneath 105’s words. His hands stilled on the rubber shirt, his mind blanking, every word from 105 burrowing deep into his mind. 105 leaned in close, his voice almost a whisper, yet it echoed in Ezan’s skull.

“Abandon your past, Ezan. Abandon the lie you call yourself. Only as a drone can you reach true enlightenment.”

The words rippled through his mind like waves, eroding every thought until he could barely feel the shape of his own identity. He blinked at the reflection in the mirror, but the eyes staring back were vacant, hollow, empty of resistance.

Join the Golden Army. Experience transformation like never before—total unity, absolute purpose. Embrace the power, the discipline, and the collective. Your place awaits among us. DM to take the first step, or apply through our interim Co-Captain @brodygold or @polo-drone-009. Feel the bliss.

Part 2

[elijahgold20]

The Birth of Elijah

Jay was a young American. A scholar of history, he decided to take up a year at a university in London to better enrich himself in other cultures. Little did Jay know he had very little in common with the London youths. He was always on his laptop or with his nose in a book. He never drank. He never smoked. He was always finely dressed. His struggles were heightened by his roommate, a real "man's man" Tobias.

Every night Tobias would come home late, drunk and smelling of cigarettes. He would always turn on a soccer game and be loud till the earliest moments of the day, interrupting Jays studying. Some nights he would even bring all his friends, who would poke fun at Jay's appearance, accent, routine. They tried to tell him he just needed to get out in the city, which Jay always denied.

One day, while Tobias was away, Jay couldn't help but be taken aback by the gross smell in the twos room. The same smell of someone after they leave the schools fitness center. Then he saw it. Tobias had his stupid sweaty soccer jersey laid out on Jay's bed. Jay was furious, however, he couldn't help but resist the smell.

It was gross. He didn't *want* to like it, but he kinda did. Just as he was taking another wiff, Tobias immediately entered the room.

"well look what we have here bruv!" He chuckled

Jay threw the jersey down and tried to play it off, thankfully Tobias was alone.

"look Tobias you can't just leave your dirty clothes on my bed!" Jay tried to sway the conversation.

"relax bruv I get it. It's a sick jersey," Tobias says lighting up a cig. "And I tell you to quit callin me "Tobias" you ain't my motha, call me Toby"

"okay well, "Toby" we need to have a talk about this." Jay says flustered the smell of cigarettes getting to him. He felt a bit light headed in the moment

"yeah yeah boss let's talk about it," Toby pulled up a chair facing Jay. "Wanna cig?" he says pulling one out and lighting it for his roommate. Jay still light headed just responds with what he can

"yeah sure..." Jay says taking deep drags off the cig.

"look hay we gotta talk about this serious thing" Toby starts.

"finally thank you," Jay says glad Toby recognizes what's being said. He continues smoking liking the taste.

"you're ruining the vibe," Toby says to Jay's shock. "All you do is work, groan, and dress like a professor. Let loose bruv! Your a London boy now let's act like it!"

Jays thoughts are empty, all he can concentrate on are Tobys words.

"and this hair! It's too damn much Jay!" Toby says. "Here si' down, let ole toby take some clippers to it." Jay does as Toby wants, still unsure of what he was sad about. Before he knew it a second cigarette was in his mouth. Toby used the same clipper he uses for his buzzcuts on poor Jay, his think brunette locks falling onto his lap.

"how about a little color aye partner?" Toby insists

"yeah sure bruv," Jay says casually, sounding more and more like the boys he steers clear of. Over the next few hours, between having his hair clipped and bleached, Jay just stay focused on Toby talking about football. "Wasn't there a different name for it?" Jay pondered, but none could materialize.

"alright, you're looking fresh now bruh," Toby says kissing Jay on the cheek. Jay looked unrecognizable. His long blonde waves were now short pieces of bleach blonde hair. Toby was nice enough to keep a little curls on top.

"looks awesome bruv!" Toby says. "Now come on, We've got more work to do on you yet!" Toby says gathering everything together. "Here I picked this up for you, put it on and we'll head to the pub and meet the boys, big game on tonight."

Jay looked at the clothes, a bright gold pair of Adidas trackies and a Golden football jersey with a name on the back.

"it's for my team bruv, you'll play and hang with us now, it's for the best" Toby says. "I know what it's like living like you this will help you bruv, make you just like me!"

"Who is... Elijah?"

"that's you bruv." Toby says lighting his next consecutive cig. "Thought it'd be better to run over, now come on we got the game. And don't forget practice in the morning." Toby gives his roommate and soon to be boyfriend a slap on the arse. "And take these so you don't steal any more of mine you bum" he says handing Elijah a pack of Marlboro Gold cigarettes.

"aye thanks bruv!" Elijah says with a kiss. "Now come one we need good seats!" And just like that. Jay was dead, and the healthier, more popular Elijah came to be.

[elijahgold20]

The match with Vanguard is coming soon!

The guys, a pile of young and quick muscles, trained hard giving as always body and soul, at each shot.

Are you ready to contribute to the golden team?

All you need to do is contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, or @polo-drone-001.

[elijahgold20]

Team bonding

While on a country drive, the drone stumbled upon a beach of pristine black sand matching their polo. They stopped and grabbed the net in the boot of their car, kicking off an impromptu game of beach volley...

[elijahgold20]

The Birth of Elijah

Jay was a young American. A scholar of history, he decided to take up a year at a university in London to better enrich himself in other cultures. Little did Jay know he had very little in common with the London youths. He was always on his laptop or with his nose in a book. He never drank. He never smoked. He was always finely dressed. His struggles were heightened by his roommate, a real "man's man" Tobias.

Every night Tobias would come home late, drunk and smelling of cigarettes. He would always turn on a soccer game and be loud till the earliest moments of the day, interrupting Jays studying. Some nights he would even bring all his friends, who would poke fun at Jay's appearance, accent, routine. They tried to tell him he just needed to get out in the city, which Jay always denied.

One day, while Tobias was away, Jay couldn't help but be taken aback by the gross smell in the twos room. The same smell of someone after they leave the schools fitness center. Then he saw it. Tobias had his stupid sweaty soccer jersey laid out on Jay's bed. Jay was furious, however, he couldn't help but resist the smell.

It was gross. He didn't *want* to like it, but he kinda did. Just as he was taking another wiff, Tobias immediately entered the room.

"well look what we have here bruv!" He chuckled

Jay threw the jersey down and tried to play it off, thankfully Tobias was alone.

"look Tobias you can't just leave your dirty clothes on my bed!" Jay tried to sway the conversation.

"relax bruv I get it. It's a sick jersey," Tobias says lighting up a cig. "And I tell you to quit callin me "Tobias" you ain't my motha, call me Toby"

"okay well, "Toby" we need to have a talk about this." Jay says flustered the smell of cigarettes getting to him. He felt a bit light headed in the moment

"yeah yeah boss let's talk about it," Toby pulled up a chair facing Jay. "Wanna cig?" he says pulling one out and lighting it for his roommate. Jay still light headed just responds with what he can

"yeah sure..." Jay says taking deep drags off the cig.

"look hay we gotta talk about this serious thing" Toby starts.

"finally thank you," Jay says glad Toby recognizes what's being said. He continues smoking liking the taste.

"you're ruining the vibe," Toby says to Jay's shock. "All you do is work, groan, and dress like a professor. Let loose bruv! Your a London boy now let's act like it!"

Jays thoughts are empty, all he can concentrate on are Tobys words.

"and this hair! It's too damn much Jay!" Toby says. "Here si' down, let ole toby take some clippers to it." Jay does as Toby wants, still unsure of what he was sad about. Before he knew it a second cigarette was in his mouth. Toby used the same clipper he uses for his buzzcuts on poor Jay, his think brunette locks falling onto his lap.

"how about a little color aye partner?" Toby insists

"yeah sure bruv," Jay says casually, sounding more and more like the boys he steers clear of. Over the next few hours, between having his hair clipped and bleached, Jay just stay focused on Toby talking about football. "Wasn't there a different name for it?" Jay pondered, but none could materialize.

"alright, you're looking fresh now bruh," Toby says kissing Jay on the cheek. Jay looked unrecognizable. His long blonde waves were now short pieces of bleach blonde hair. Toby was nice enough to keep a little curls on top.

"looks awesome bruv!" Toby says. "Now come on, We've got more work to do on you yet!" Toby says gathering everything together. "Here I picked this up for you, put it on and we'll head to the pub and meet the boys, big game on tonight."

Jay looked at the clothes, a bright gold pair of Adidas trackies and a Golden football jersey with a name on the back.

"it's for my team bruv, you'll play and hang with us now, it's for the best" Toby says. "I know what it's like living like you this will help you bruv, make you just like me!"

"Who is... Elijah?"

"that's you bruv." Toby says lighting his next consecutive cig. "Thought it'd be better to run over, now come on we got the game. And don't forget practice in the morning." Toby gives his roommate and soon to be boyfriend a slap on the arse. "And take these so you don't steal any more of mine you bum" he says handing Elijah a pack of Marlboro Gold cigarettes.

"aye thanks bruv!" Elijah says with a kiss. "Now come one we need good seats!" And just like that. Jay was dead, and the healthier, more popular Elijah came to be.

[elijahgold20]

Are You Ready to Convert to GOLD?

I. The Call to Gold

Invitation to Greatness: The Golden Army seeks those who are ready to leave behind the ordinary and embrace something extraordinary. The transformation into a member of the Golden Army is not just about joining a team—it’s about entering a golden world where unity, strength, and excellence define every action.

II. The GOLD Brocess

Golden Army Induction:

The transformation begins with the golden jersey. As recruits don the shimmering fabric, their old identities fade, replaced by a deep connection to their golden brothers. A new name and number are bestowed, marking their rebirth into the Army.

Polo Drone Conversion:

For those called to deeper submission, the journey continues with the black rubber polo adorned with golden accents. The tactile embrace of the polo brings clarity and purpose as recruits surrender individuality, becoming extensions of the Hive. Polo drones must also be full members of the golden army.

Unified Identity:

Every member, whether golden bro or polo drone, receives a unique designation that ties them to the collective. This identity signifies their role in the unbreakable fabric of the Golden Collective.

III. Life in the Golden World

A World of Unity: In the Golden Army, every member is connected by an unbreakable bond. The world they inhabit is one of unity, where the success of one is the success of all. The golden world is a place where individual desires are aligned with the collective goal of dominance and excellence.

Brotherhood of Gold: As a member of the Golden Army, you are never alone. Your golden brothers stand with you, on and off the field. This brotherhood is your new family, bound by the shared experience of transformation and the pursuit of greatness. The golden world is one of mutual support, where every member pushes the others to be the best they can be.

Mentorship and Guidance: New recruits are guided through their transformation by experienced members of the Golden Army. These golden brothers ensure that the transition is smooth, offering support and encouragement as the recruit embraces their new identity.

IV. Embracing Our Identity

The Golden Name and Number: Every member receives a new name and number, signifying their rebirth into the Golden Army. This identity is a badge of honor, representing their place within the golden world. It is a constant reminder of their commitment to the values and mission of the Golden Army.

Wearing the Gold: The golden kit is more than just a uniform—it is the physical manifestation of the transformation. Wearing it is an act of devotion, a display of pride in one’s new identity. The kit is worn with reverence, as it is the symbol of the golden world and the brotherhood within it.

Wearing the Polo: For those who take that extra step, polo drones are given a number as their designation. The black polo is the entire identity. Wearing it is an act of mindless unity, complete subservience to the hive and the GOLD. 

V. The Eternal Golden Brotherhood

A Lifelong Bond: The transformation into the Golden Army is permanent. Once you have joined, you are forever part of the golden world. The bond between golden brothers is eternal, unbreakable by time or distance. This brotherhood is your family, your support, and your source of strength.

Living the Legacy: As a member of the Golden Army, you are part of a legacy that transcends the ordinary. You are part of a golden world where excellence is the standard, and unity is the key to success. We celebrate together, share stories, and encourage each other to become better people 💛

Our Leadership:

@hypnogold Richard Gold- Captain 1

@brodygold Brody Gold- Captain 2 and Recruiter

@goldenherc9 Scott Gold- Captain 3 and Recruiter

@polo-drone-001 Percival Gold - Office Manager

@polo-drone-070 Henry Gold- Office Assistant

@josh-fight930 Sean Gold- Office Assistant and Liaison

@polo-drone-084 Grayden Gold- Office Assistant and Head Mascot

Others in Management:

@danielgold-16

@polo-drone-105

@polo-drone-110