Sometimes you fall asleep, and dream of something you’ve never heard of. Then you want to make it a reality.
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pants are a different color than the vest - 0/10
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a mummy who broke out of his sarcophagus wrote this
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A wild cat and a fox isn’t the usual pair of best friends but this duo was discovered by fishermen on the shores of Lake Van in Turkey and have been together for over a year. Locals say their inseparable. Article.
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Ashswag icons ❀ requested by 🌕💫 anon 👾 ┈ art : 1. 2. 3.
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[WIP] because I'm tempted to paint the first sketch eheh we'll see
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Hey remember when they found over 200 bodies of native children buried behind a residential school and the world cared for... what, a week?
They've counted about 6,000-7,000 now, for those of you who do still care
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remember my name? credit to @heavenpierceher for mirage's humanformer design
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So like did somebody order Miragex Noah symbiote au (transformers symbiotes au )
Mirages ego's so big that he's the only symbiote that can project hallucinations of his full form to it's host. That results into Noah interacting with nothing, not just talking to himself like Eddie Brock.
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Humans are weird: Interview with the Devil’s right hand
*Recording starts*
Interviewer: Is it alright if I record this?
Subject: Well you’ve already started so why bother asking me?
Interviewer: I’m sorry, it’s a force of habit.
Interviewer: I can turn it off and take written notes if you want.
Subject: Nah, recording is fine.
*Background noise of children playing*
Interviewer: May I ask why you chose such a public place for this interview?
Interviewer: It seems so out of place given your line of work.
Subject: Were you expecting it to be in some shady bar on the far side of town that holds all the ne’er-do-wells and vagabonds meet and scheme?
Interview: *sounds made of sentence starting and stopping*
Subject: Bars get boring after a while and I wanted some fresh air.
Subject: And what do you mean by “my line of work”?
Interviewer: Well, you know….being a hitman.
Subject: Been a while since I’ve been called that.
Subject: Personally I prefer mercenary.
Interviewer: Is there a difference?
Subject: I’m sure you’d be able to find any poor sod that’d give off a list of reasons and nuances, but at the end of the day we all just kill people for money.
Interview: I’ve heard that you have a preference for being called “The Devil’s Right Hand”.
Subject: I don’t actually.
Subject: But you do one job for a galactic dictator with a tad of genocide and the next thing you know you got a nickname.
Subject: You know how hard it is for people to just use my real name and not that cheesy nickname?
Interviewer: What is your real name anyway?
Subject: Francis O’Connell.
Francis: Never got your name by the way.
Interviewer: Mortica Preces.
Francis: Haven’t met a Peline since the resource wars on Nifelen II.
Mortica: You fought in the resource wars?
Francis: I did. I made myself a scarf from the all the sacred braids your people wore from the dead I left on the battlefield.
Francis: Was the only thing that kept me warm during those freezing nights.
Mortica: You scalped my people?
Francis: Only from the dead ones; I’m not entirely a monster.
Mortica: …..
Mortica: Do you realize the religious significance of our braids, and what it means to take them?
Francis: I did and I didn’t care.
Francis: You were my enemy and I was damn upset at your people’s attempts to end my life.
Francis: Thankfully the war ended and we can now meet here as friends.
Mortica: …….
Mortica: When you agreed to do this interview I had pictured this much differently.
Francis: I told you that I would give you my side of the story.
Mortica: You did.
Francis: Did you expect me to sugar coat it?
Francis: Make it like I was fighting for some noble cause and lost myself in the throngs of war to become the monster the universe now sees me as?
Francis: Well that’s just horseshit people tell others to make themselves out to be more sympathetic.
Mortica: So you don’t want sympathy?
Francis: What the fuck am I going to do with that?
Mortica: Then why did you fight in the resource wars?
Mortica: Why did you commit such acts of malice and cruelty upon my people?
Francis: Simple really.
Francis: Because I was paid to.
Mortica: That’s it?
Mortica: Because you were paid to?!
Mortica: You butchered thousands and helped rip a peaceful star system asunder because you WER PAID TO?!?!
Francis: I was paid very well if that makes the difference for you.
Mortica: How can you sleep with yourself at night???
Francis: *pauses*
Francis: When I go to sleep at night I am greeted in my dreams by the faces of everyone I have ever killed in my line of work.
Francis: Not just from the resource wars, but from every conflict, murder, and killing I have ever committed.
Mortica: So that rumor is true for humans then?
Francis: Oh yeah; that bit is very much true.
Francis: Each dream is the same. I’m walking down a long hallway that stretches on far beyond the horizon, and lining each side like a decorative mask collection is the face of a person I’ve killed.
Francis: Some of them are screaming at me; shouting out their last words or begging for their lives as they weep.
Francis: Some have the bullet or knife wounds from their death fresh on their skin as the blood drips from them like a fountain.
Francis: Then there are the ones that don’t say anything and just stare at you as you walk by; their silence piercing me like a blade through butter.
Francis: It’s a bit impressive how no matter how far I keep walking I never see the same face twice. I would be walking for what seems like hours or days and yet each face is different.
Mortica: A fitting nightmare for one such as you.
Francis: Oh but I haven’t told you the best part yet.
Francis: Attached to each face is a tag, like the ones you see for clothing sold at department stores, and written on each tag is how much I was paid to kill them
Mortica: By the gods….
Francis: I’m not even sure how I remember that but I think it’s my subconscious trying to punish me the life I’ve lived.
Francis: While I’m walking down the hallway I will stop every now and then and look at the tags and smile to myself at a job well done.
Mortica: I don’t think I can continue this interview?
Francis: Why?
Francis: Because you are just realizing why someone would be called “The Devil’s right hand”?
Francis: You need to grow up.
Mortica: Excuse me?!
Francis: I said you need to grow the fuck up.
Francis: I’ve read your puff pieces promoting military life and the benefits it brings to the enlisted.
Francis: I couldn’t help but notice you left out all the PTSD, the horrific injuries experienced on the battlefields, the emotional trauma of losing your comrades day after day and realize the only way to survive is to cut off any emotional attachment to your squad mates just to ensure that you have some sanity left by the end of the war.
Francis: Only to find out that even if you do somehow survive you find society no longer has a use for you so you are left to rot on some run down street corner begging for scraps.
Mortica: That may be what your people do with your soldiers, but we Peline’s know how to treat our returning veterans.
Francis: Oh do you?
Francis: Then please explain why one of them paid me to do this interview with you?
Mortica: Wh-what?
Francis: I doubt you ever spoke to one of your returning soldiers in your entire career, have you?
Francis: Too afraid to get the real details of military life in favor of keeping the status quo.
Francis: Much less than first grade Ensign Tublek Frent.
Mortica: Who?
Francis: Oh you know who he is.
Francis: He came to you after the resource wars, after losing an arm and a leg, and offered to give you the scoop of the century.
Francis: An in-depth look of how your military bungled the entire war and then cast aside returning soldiers.
Francis: But you didn’t meet him; oh no.
Francis: You reported him to military command, who then had him declared mentally insane and locked him away in some dark corner of your medical facilities.
Mortica: How do you know any of this?
Francis: See my government found out about Tublek and were very much interested in giving your government another black eye.
Francis: So they paid me to break him out of the medical facility and transported back to Terra for a live broadcast.
Francis: Job went easy enough and I was just about to hand him over when the old sod learned who I really was and slipped me a coin.
Francis: Can you guess what that coin was for?
Mortica: You would kill me for a single coin?
Francis: Having read your articles I would have killed you for the sheer pleasure of it, but a man such as myself needs to keep up appearances and the devil’s right hand doesn’t do jobs for free.
Mortica: We’re in a public place; not even you are so foolish to try killing me here.
Francis: On the contrary, it was the only way to make you feel safe and draw you out.
*Rustling sound and the click of a weapon being pulled out*
Mortica: This recording has been going live to my office. If you kill me everyone will know.
Francis: Eh, publicity is publicity these days.
*Cocks gun*
Francis: I wonder where your place on the wall will be?
Mortica: Wa-
*GUNSHOT*
*Screams of children in background and footsteps slowly walking away.*
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I don't remember that much from 2003 Donnie, but compared to the other version of him, he's pretty less chaotic than them.
2012 Donnie blows up his lab, 2014/2016 Donnie jumps out of a plane, 2018 Donnie is thirsty for homicide.
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