#bill bray

[boricuacherry-blog]

One particular day Michael got an impish glimmer in his eyes and announced, almost in a whisper, 'Let's trash the hotel room.' That seemed like an excellent idea, so together with Michael, before we left Istanbul, Eddie and I wreaked havoc on the hotel room. We moved couches across the room, leaving them at odd angles. We tilted pictures so they hung crooked on the walls. We scattered rose petals all over the floor. As far as trashing hotel rooms went, we weren't what anyone would call masters of our craft. Michael hauled back and threw a fork into a painting.

The next day, backstage at the concert, Eddie and I were sitting in the dressing room right behind Michael watching his makeup artist, Karen Faye, get him ready to go onstage. Michael warned us that Bill Bray was angry.

'Bill's gonna have to talk to you guys,' he told us. 'We shouldn't have trashed that room. I told him it was my fault and he should take it easy on you, but he has to talk to you.'

While Michael was onstage performing, Bill Bray showed up and gave us hell for what we'd done.

'I don't think you realize that we have to pay for the damage you did,' Bill said, suddenly looking every inch of his not inconsiderable size. 'We can't leave hotels like that. It reflects badly on Michael.'

Bill threatened to send us home, and Eddie and I started crying. I felt terrible, like it was the end of the world. And Eddie was equally devastated. Michael's nickname for him was Angel because he always tried so hard to be good and respectful. We apologized to Bill. We didn't want to cause problems. All of us, Bill included, knew that Michael had been the instigator of the trashing, but nonetheless, Bill wanted us to take responsibility for our own actions.

Bill's dressing down of Eddie and me was a turning point in my life, a moment that instilled in me an early instinct to protect Michael and his reputation, even from his own actions, if necessary. We were the kids, it was true, but when it came to Michael's impulses, sometimes we would have to be the adults. We had to think of the consequences to his image and reputation at all times, even when he didn't.

-Frank Cascio

[orchurisarts]

finally made a human bill design

the proportions are a lil’ fucked and the wrinkles I tried to give him arent. super visible but whatever

[polux-aka-hyakunana]

The Dark Future - Chapter 5 - Sketch WIPS

[esonetwork]

Popeye | Episode 390

New Post has been published on http://esonetwork.com/popeye/

Popeye | Episode 390

Mark Maddux joins Jim for a loving look back at a classic film of the fantastique from 1980 and Director Robert Altman – “Popeye,” starring Robin Williams, Shelley Duvall, Paul L. Smith, Paul Dooley, Donald Moffat, Ray Walston, Richard Libertini, Bill Irwin, Wesley Ivan Hunt, Peter Bray, Linda Hunt and Jack Mercer. Altman’s homage to the loveable cartoon character from the 1920’s takes us into the magical world of Sweet Water. Find out more on this special Holiday episode of MONSTER ATTACK!, The Podcast Dedicated To Old Monster Movies. 

[hometeamottawa]

Everything You Need to Know about Buying a Condo in Ottawa

Welcome to Everything you need to know about buying a condo in Ottawa. In this comprehensive video, Kayla Meyer, Saeideh Shabani, Reed Allen, Alex Wickham, Ryan Brown, Naj Sadaat, Sylvie Bégin, Keith Bray, & Bryanne Rheault explore the ins and outs of purchasing a condo in this vibrant and diverse city of Ottawa, Canada’s capital. Introduction to Ottawa’s Condo Market Ottawa’s real estate…

[tears-exe]

Eating disorder/poor as fuck vent in tag

[makiitoh]

wrestling video essays

Super Eyepatch Wolf

Professional Wrestling is Stupid and Beautiful and I Love it

Intro, Kayfabe, The Montreal Screwjob, The Pipebomb, The Golden ☆ Lovers

The Undertaker: Long Term Story Telling in Wrestling

The Undertaker, Time (as a concept), 90s novelty wrestling gimmicks

Villains in Wrestling: Making People Hate You

Heels (as a concept), Los Ingobernables de Japon (incl. EVIL, Tetsuya Naito, Hiromu Takahashi, SANADA), Bullet Club, Gorgeous George, Bray Wyatt, MJF, Kagetsu

The Unreality of Pro Wrestling

Roman Reigns, The Shield (Reigns, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley), Sami Zayn

F.D. Signifier

The WWE's complex "Black" history

specific focus on Black men in the WWE

lil bill

The wild world of Black wrestlers

broader focus on Black wrestlers across multiple promotions

NeoJoshizzle

Maki Itoh pt. 1: the fired idol

Maki Itoh pt. 2: finally a happy ending?

Wrestling Colin

The Greatest Pro Wrestler Who Ever Lived Died in the Ring

Mitsuharu Misawa, AJPW, Pro Wrestling NOAH

[drgnflyteabox]

a little kate laswell x gn!reader drabble

-> insecurity, anxiety, hurt/comfort, relationship worries, OCD, sooooo self indulgent lmao, self-hatred, therapy, compulsive behaviors, ableist language used towards self, shame, this is literally nothing and theres no real ending so mb <3

You've been working on it. You have. The anxiety; the fear of abandonment. Kate leaves so often she's probably gone almost half the year, anyway. Your relationship isn't exactly built on physical closeness, and as the years go by you feel more and more secure.

She fits, you fit, your cat Cheddar fits. The house fits, even though it sometimes feels too big when she's gone and you're still a little afraid of being home alone.

Security's tight, babe, she's assured you a dozen times. Locks, alarms, the whole nine yards. Everything works. You're usually close to sure about that.

So, you’ve worked on recognizing which feelings are rooted in reality, and which feelings sometimes come from insecurity, or jealousy.

Sometimes, it's fear. That old braying beast in your head, muddling up reality (Kate loves you) with unreality (she hates you, your life is a lie).

You know where it comes from, but that doesn't always help. On the bad days, it even makes it worse. Something is wrong with you, really really wrong. Irredeemably wrong.

Kate's been on an op three months. Longer than usual, but you've been through it a couple times. It's a serious one, so you haven't even gotten more than the odd phone call maybe once every week and a half.

Which fucking sucks normally, but its worse when you can't seem to shake the voice in your head that says she's found someone else, that she's delaying coming home because she's sick of you.

You do have a small laugh at the one that tells you she's got a secret family – even in the state you're in that's a ridiculous thought.

Still, it doesn’t break you from your worries. You begin backsliding. Your hands chafe from washing them, your water bill climbs and climbs and climbs as a result of your compulsive showering.

Am I too dirty? You think. You feel dirty. Contaminated. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you anymore, doesn’t love you. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, not with your insanity.

This is the cycle.

Someone will break in. You check the locks an even number of times. But did you? Okay, shower to ‘set’ the locks now, or someone really will break in. Don’t think of Kate. She hates you. Oh, hey Cheddar. Good boy. Did you lock the doors?

You’re exhausted. You lose track of the days, working robotically at your computer, burning your nose with the scent of bleach wipes. There’s not even any real cleaning, just you compulsively wiping the same four surfaces over and over.

When the wood starts showing a little damage from the incessant wiping, you cry in the fourth shower of the day.

You lose track so badly that you’re in bed rotting when Kate gets home.

The door opens, and your heart drops with fear – fuck, it’s happening. Then you check your phone and deflate. Fuck, you think again, for a different reason.

“Baby?” Kate’s voice is clear in the empty house. It makes you think of all the dust laying around, about how you usually tidy before she arrives.

You pull the cover over your face. Shame burns your face, injects lead into your muscles.

“You home?” she calls again. Cheddar meows, probably at her feet.

That’s how she finds you. Prone, upset, eyes burning.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. Her weight makes you dip towards her when she crawls on the bed. “Bad day?”

You pull the blanket down.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I meant to clean the house for you, and cook you something–”

“Hey,” she puts a finger to your lips, slipping in beside you to cradle one cheek in her rough palm, body pressed to yours.

You can’t help but lean into it despite feeling wretched, despite feeling like you’ve dirtied everything around you lately.

“I don’t need any of that, honey. I appreciate it, but I’m really just excited to see you,” she presses her mouth to your jaw. Not to entice, but to breathe you in, to feel you for the first time in months.

“But it’s awful,” you mumble. “It’s dusty, dirty, disgusting–”

She stops you again.

“Hey now, it looks fine to me,” then a frown. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. It’s the truth.

“Have you called Dr. Klein?”

“No,” finally, a tear slips down your temple. You’re confused, and angry about these feelings; why now? Why when you’ve recovered?

Kate tuts, wiping at your tear with a thumb. She climbs halfway on top of you, looking down at your face. She looks tired, which makes you feel even guiltier.

“God, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this when you’ve just gotten back.”

Her frown deepens.

“Baby,” she starts. “We take care of each other, remember? What have we talked about?”

“Asking for help is okay,” you murmur. That’s one of the worst parts about this thing you have, the obsessions. They dress themselves up as the world's worst taboos. Speak them aloud and make them not only come true, but alienate everyone around you. In high school, you’d hardly spoken for fear of accidentally revealing your anxiety.

That in and of itself had been a years-long journey to heal in therapy. With Dr. Klein, with Kate, with yourself.

“Think we better set up an appointment, huh?” she says, and there’s no judgment in her voice, no sign of hatred.

“Yeah,” you whisper. You tilt your head towards her, and feel her nose against yours.

“I missed you,” she says, breath mingling with yours.

“I missed you too,” you say back.

[francicide]

stuff i found from my very early 2023/late 2022 pronouny. uhh.

tags: @id-pack-archive

NAMES

pt: Names end pt

Howard, whistler, vincent, edward, bruce, samuel, joesph, prophet, neo, norman, romeo, kingston, henry, jerome, jeremiah, carnival, jack, artie, amnesia, vegas, harvey, julie, jim, jason, louis, max, winston, lucky, pluto, allison, clarice, lora, hector, apollo, valentino, alastar, laurence, veronica, rosemary, victor, rouge, addison, francisco, wilson, oswald, william, sparky, frankie, rocket, fang, cat, lyric, scarlet, benny, junk, hyde, sadie, eight, domino, chance, roulette, asrael, mustang, molly, cameron, anubis, clark, kent, jake, steven, wasp, chrome, fred, spring, haywire, sunny, bonnie, ashton, renard, voss, nathaniel, oscar, peter, junebug, wombat, indiana, mortie, noir, vannie, cabbie, newton, lloyd, cherry, goldie, miguel, dave, bill, horror, confetti, muse

PRONOUNS

pt: Pronouns end pt

he/him, it/its, ink/inks, sh?/h?r, h?/h?m, th☆y/th☆m, fle/flesh, rit/ritual, haha/haha, invest/investigate, cri/crime, myst/mystery, ax/axe, bit/bite, bon/bone, brai/brain, bug/bug, bu/burn, carni/carnivore, ch/chaos, chor/chord, clow/clown, clu/clue, core/cores, co/coin, dia/dial, foe/foes, fun/funs, goo/goop, gui/tar, gut/guts, hope/hopes, joke/jokes, lie/lies, lo/loop, lord/lords, mask/masks, mob/mobs, mon/ster, note/notes, officer/officers, or/organ, rabi/rabid, ret/ro, ring/rings, save/savior, shee/sheep, sheri/sheriff, skull/skulls, song/songs, ma/smart, star/fish, sta/static, tru/truth, wor/ship, i/me, h*/h*m, [redacted]/[redacted], @/@s, #/#s, ☆/☆s, 🦇/🦇s, 🥩/🥩s, 🔪/🔪s, 🕊️/🕊️s/, 🐧/🐧s, dis/disease, abyss/abyssal, ae/aer, ang/angel, anim/animal, anti/antis, arcade/arcades, bari/baritones, a/aro, ay/am, bun/buns, bun/bunny, byte/bytes, cat/cats, choke/chokes, ci/cipher, cor/corpse, cor/corv, crea/create, creep/creeps, cry/cries, dae/dem, dead/deads, dea/death, doll/dolls, drop/drip, elec/tric, eu/euro, eye/strain, fa/faun, fla/flare, fi/fire, fix/fixs, fi/fizzy, fool/fools, four/fourth, fox/foxs, fluff/fluffs, fur/furs, gala/galas, gho/ghost, giggle/giggles, gli/glitch, gli/glitter, gi/grr, gore/gores, grime/grimes, hab/habit, heir/heirs, honk/honks, hy/hyena, hy/hym, hymn/hymns, hx/hxm, hum/hums, hu/hush, hyp/hyper, idol/idols, kin/kins, kni/knight, lol/lols, lost/sheep, lo/love, mad/mads, medi/medical, meow/meows, mim/mimicks, mir/miracle, moo/moos, moon/moons, mo/mourn, musi/music, ni/night, no/non, nov/nova, of/ofs, op/oprea, other/others, pain/pains, paw/paws, pos/sum, poison/poisons, polyb/polybius, rabbi/rabbit, racc/raccoon, rai/rains, ram/rams, rat/rats, rawr/rawrz, rep/tile, ribb/ribbit, rule/ruler, scene/scenes, sea/seas, se/ser, sly/slim, spark/sparks, star/stars, stim/stims, survivor/survivors, syn/synth, the/then, thou/thee, vamp/vamps, voi/voids, vi/rus, were/wolf, whisp/whisps, wing/wings, woo/wools, wol/wolf, wy/wire, wyv/wyvern, xe/xeno, xyz/xyz, you/your, ze/zer, kit/kits, thon/thons, eel/eels, pey/pen, pocket/pockets, chemic/chemical, moss/mosses, dem/demo, lin/linen, unknown/unknowns, hi/hiss, ith/iths, mal/ware, crow/crows, nor/mal, code/codes, cy/cyber, shark/sharks, woof/woofs, silly/sillys, .doc/.docs, .exe/.exes, k9/k9s, h3/h1m, sh3/h3r, 3rr0r/3rr0rs, 0/0s, 3/3s, 6/6/s, 7/7s, 9/9s, 𖤐/𖤐s, ███/███, 💤/💤s, 🐁/🐁s, 🎶/🎶s, 🐚/🐚s, 🕹️/🕹️s, 🪱/🪱s, 🩹/🩹s, 🐍/🐍s, 💉/💉s, 🧿/🧿s, ✒️/✒️s, ⛓️/⛓️s, 🃏/🃏s, 🦴/🦴s, 🎭/🎭s, ☎️/☎️s, 🎲/🎲s, 🌕/🌖s, 🦈/🦈s

and ̴̡͈̜̙̜̫͉͈̲̺̦͕̦̳̒͌͐̓̉̆̀͆̓͘/̴̼̹͑ ̸̛̝̩̫̫̲̱̎͌̇̑̇̑̀̕̕/̵̤̺̣̝͙̱̙͋̋̍̈́̓̽ ̶̛͇̙̺͔̬͓̼̭̭̞̗͖̙͗́̎̆͛͌͝ ̶̨̬̙̤͍̮̗̙̟͉̊͑ͅ/̴̧̧̲̟̏̎͒̍̕

TITLES

pt: Titles end pt

The creature, prn who loves glitchcore, prn who embodies retrocore, prn who loves aesthetics, the creature, prn who is an angel, prn who loves obscure media/things, the loud one, the roleplayer, prn before who prn is now, prn who loves 2010 (games).

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

First there was Beetlejuice from the musical, then Discorfd from MLP, and now Bill… Jeez, they love to traumatize the archetype of chaotic characters

(Sorry, I saw this gif and had to share it, it's wonderful)

Reminds me of this meme with Patrick…

But yeah, only one got therapy, so…

Now that I have your attention:

[hometeamottawa]

979 Hare Avenue | Luxury Bungalow Living in Glabar Park 

Welcome to 979 Hare Avenue, where luxury living meets the warm embrace of Glabar Park’s vibrant neighbourhood. This spacious 3-bedroom bungalow sits majestically on a generous lot, inviting you to a life of elegance and comfort. Located just blocks away from Kingsmere, Glabar, and Lorry Greenberg parks, and with convenient access to shopping, cafes, restaurants, and excellent transit and highway…

[bywandandsword]

I finally finished the Diviners by Libba Bray and 1) This book hasn't gotten nearly the amount of fandom interaction that it deserves and 2) Libba Bray does not pull any fucking punches when it comes to the uncomfortable parts of history, good lord

It's so so good. She's clearly done so much research and it makes my history nerd heart so full. And then the story! I want to know what the fuck Uncle Will is hiding and where all these character's paths will lead. Where's Sam's mom? Is Isiah really ok? What's going to happen now that Evie has gone public with her power?

Also, I'm hereby adopting Memphis Campbell. That boy is getting a warm blanket, cocoa, and therapy starting immediately. And I'll personally kick the shit out of Bill Johnson if he comes anywhere near either of the Campbell boys again. I don't care that he's an old, mostly blind man, I'll fucking do it

[destiny-aesthetics]

^ Page 03-04 of 'Cayde's Treasure Island Book'; A Copy of 'Treasure Island' by Robert Louis Stevenson, that Cayde-6 as turn into a makeshift journal.

-----------------------------------------------------

Destiny [Bungie] | Taken King [Collector's Edition]

^ Sketch of Clovis Bray logo

[left page] Floating in the black I've been listening to nothing but my heart knocking for over twelve hours. EMU's low on air. I promise myself this job is the last. Promise myself this time I mean it. I feel the hull vibration through the station's thin metal skin. The airlock pump hisses. Long wait's over. Time to go to work. I'll spare you the gory details. Afterwards, fuming. Clovis Bray sends me a bill for the hull damage. My fault the target put a blast wall between us. My fault things went wrong and we had to let our rifles do the talking.

^[left] Sticker of Clovis Bray 'Morning Star'; [right] Sketch of a spade found in a deck of cards

[right page] I tear the packet open. Tattered pieces of the envelope drift to the floor. [Spade insignia pencil drawing] Surprise. It's not just a bill. There's a job offer tucked in. Seems old Bray's been looking for someone like me. Willing to forgive my debt, and not just for the orbital station.  All of it. Suddenly, I ain't so mad anymore.

[top; right page] ###-###-###

[stargazer2709]

The Boogeyman & The Hangman | 5. Lapdog

┉┅━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┉

┉┅━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┉

Tonight is the night.

Sofia has planned a meeting with the Triads to present the new drug for distribution in the city. This is a big step in her climb to get what is rightfully hers. And I'm there to see how she does it.

As for me, I'm thinking about taking one of the most important steps in my life: popping the big question. Before I was very hesitant about whether I should do it or not, but now I feel confident about it.

Oz brought Eve tonight, along with girls who would help sell the drugs to people at the party. While my good friend sweetens the ears of others with a personal speech, Sofia, on the other hand, is with me and together we discuss the final details of the plan.

“Hey, I know you're more than just selling drugs at a fucking party, but it'll only be this once, puppy.” Her dark eyes looking at me shine grandly tonight along with his outfit. She plays with my tie for a while while looking at me, keeping an eye out behind me to make sure no one is watching us.

“Are you serious? That's enough for me. After all, the action will come soon, right?” A smile betrays my mischief. I am now thinking of Sofia's success and what will happen as a result, but inside I am thinking of the action that a proposal like the one I have in hand will bring.

“If all goes well tonight, we will be unstoppable.” She adjusts the knot of my tie as she runs her delicate hands up its length without taking her deep gaze off of me, making me very small with it, as if she held the reins even now.

“Yeah. I've always believed in you, honey.” With this I try to keep my arrogance standing, pretending that I don't feel so weak because of the way Sofia takes control of me, even to a lesser extent. “Don't forget it.” I look straight into her eyes and smile a little. Now I feel like a good little boy in his uniform ready to go do his homework while the owner of the situation does adult things.

“I know you have.” Before letting me go to put this damn plan into action and do my thing, she leaves a small kiss on my lips, one that is felt even after it has happened. “Now go to work.”

“At your service, boss.” It's a kiss and that's it, I'll do anything for her without braying. I nod and walk down the stairs to the party where many young people are jumping and dancing non-stop.

The girls brought in tonight collect the money from the sale, while Vic and I collect it and solder the product to whoever wants to try this new thing. And holy crap, many people are ready to blow their minds with this new drug, because my hands are filled with bills while they are emptied of product.

I have the drugs and they have the money.

I'd say it was a successful mission. After a few minutes of buying and selling, which I wouldn't say was entirely legal, the sales guy and I are already having a casual chat as we walk around the club. He walks side by side with me after finishing handing over the money, trying to kill time while Sofia, the woman of the night, works her magic on important people, just like Oz.

“So, uh... Sir, may I ask you... h-how do you and Sofia know each other? You guys seem very close.” He asks timidly or unsure of just asking something like that. Maybe he expects someone like me to explode with anger for butting into my personal life or think it was a stupid question. But it doesn't really bother me, at least not if I don't talk more than I should.

“Well, I used to work for the Falcones, Carmine Falcone specifically. Clearly, one thing led to another, kid. Not only did I have to do work for the head of the Family, but also for the heirs, and it was not an easy task.” I grimace afterward, thinking back many years, remembering those times I spent with the Family's children, running here and there to keep them safe.

“Oh, so you worked for Sofia and her brother? Not just for her father, right?” His interest replaces the shyness with which he asked me the question a few seconds ago, which matches my passion for telling stories about my past with the Falcones.

“Yeah. I mean, I couldn't say I didn't enjoy some part of the job, you know? I was basically a babysitter, but boy did I love part of it, seriously.” Once again, remembering brings a smile to my face. Many memories, mostly good ones with Sofia as the protagonist, reveal how much I love going back in time when talking about it. “And the rest is history, kid. Like all great anecdotes. I don't want to bore you with that.”

“It's okay.” He smiles as I do, enjoying this conversation about old memories with me and reliving the moment when a woman did me a great deal of good.

Before I can take the conversation somewhere else with a different topic, I manage to spot from afar the beautiful Sofia sitting in the bar area nearby. Judging by her posture and the way she's drinking her martini, I can tell she's been having a boring, sleepy night, and I need to do something for her.

“Uh... Go have some fun, kid. I gotta go do something.” I say goodbye to Vic, patting his back for a moment, smiling at him before leaving him behind to go with Sofia.

After successfully completing the sale, it was time for me to step out of my role as a drug dealer and accompany my sweet lover to deliver my grand proposal. She is at the club bar, drinking a martini as usual, her eyes looking at the contents of the glass as if she were thinking. What is she thinking?

“Hey there.” I greet her from behind her and walk over to the counter to see her. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“I don't. Come here.” She motions to the seat next to her so I can join her in drowning in gin and olives. “I’m just trying to get over a bitter pill.” A small amount of liquid enters her mouth as she take a sip from her glass, and every second after that seems to make her better. It must be the mix of ingredients doing their thing once again.

My tired butt rests on the seat next to the woman and I can take a breather for now, ordering a mojito for myself in the process. As the waiter takes my call and leaves me alone with Sofia, I turn my head to look at her, trying to figure out what could be on her mind tonight. I also wonder if your answer to my proposal will be yes and always yes, or maybe I'm just jumping the gun again and taking a big risk.

Whatever the thought is, I prefer to ignore it, jump into the ring and spit, be completely honest with the woman I love and take the next step.

“Are you okay? You look like... I don't know, overwhelmed. Like you just dropped the kids off at school and came home to drink.”

“Even worse. All the idiots think I can't do business if my father isn't here. But I'm not like him.” She takes another sip of her martini and looks at me this time. “I still haven't forgotten what he did to me."

“Neither do I. I still regret all the time I continued working for the Family after that. I'm sorry, Sofia.”

“It actually hurt me more that you stayed with Oz.”

“Why him?”

“You never found out, right? You only knew some parts.”

“Enlighten me.”

“How do you think my father found out that I met with the reporter that night? Do you think a little bird told him?”

“Holy fuck.” That's the only thing I can answer after getting this new information. It's so strange to know that the person you thought was on your side is no longer there, or at least never was. “Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” It's my way of saying that I have to go face the person responsible for a decade separated from the woman I loved and still love.

This is how I make my way through the people dancing and some others suffering the effects of the new drug. At one point I find the boy walking away, passing in front of me and coming from the toilets. His expression was very withered compared to the energetic boy I was chatting with just now.

“Vic? Where are you going?”

“I'm leaving, man. Fuck this shit.”

“Where the hell is Oz?”

“He's in the bathroom.” He points me to the back, where the bathroom doors are, and with his gaze downcast, one of shame and sorrow. “Sorry, I can't keep doing this.”

“It's all right, kid. No need to apologize.” I give the boy a sympathetic smile. From his expression and his withered spirit, I can tell that he has a chance to give up on this kind of world and seek something more honest.

“Thank you, sir.” Those are his last words to me, and if you ask me, I'd rather the boy stay away from this kind of business. It would hurt me if he ruined his life just for the sake of having a simple life.

I slam the door open, just enough to catch Oz's attention, who seemed to be very lost in thought upon entering. To my surprise, he doesn't look as smiling or confident as he did at the beginning of the evening, with his upright posture and sleek suit.

“Wow, there you are. At least you're still here.” He speaks to me as he turns around and faces me. His attitude isn't as carefree as usual. Instead, he seems depressed or something.

“I've been honest with you these past few days, haven't I? Can you be honest with me?”

“The fuck are you talkin' about?”

“You never told me the truth. What happened with Sofia.”

“You already know exactly what happened. Why are you bringin' it up now?”

“Now it seems that I don't know everything exactly. You forgot to mention the part where your big mouth got Sofia thrown into a hellhole for ten fucking years.”

“You really wanna talk about that now? Oh fuck. This is almost over, and I don't have time to go back in time!”

“Well, I do have time, and I have plenty of it. And right now you will tell me the damn truth. Why did you do it?”

“I was worried about you, man! Sofia was sick as fuck, and I didn't want you to get hurt. I was protecting you.”

“No, you were protecting yourself. You know she never killed those women. You know that very fucking well!”

“What if I do know, huh? Is that what you wanted to hear? Yeah, I had her locked up in Arkham because I could, because I needed to in order to succeed, and it's worked out well.” He combs his hair with his hand and takes a couple of steps towards me, still looking at me. “Welcome to the world of crime, my friend. Where trust is a weakness, and loyalty is just a fuckin' word.”

This shameless confession forces me to take out the gun I keep on my waist and point it right at the head of the man in front of me, who I cannot even believe is the same one I considered my friend. Maybe he's always been like this and I never noticed, or never wanted to.

“There it is, the Boogeyman is back! Come on, pull the trigger, show me what a fuckin' man you are!” He spreads his arms with his palms open, looking at me holding the gun firmly and my eyes burning with anger. It almost seemed like he was expecting this reaction from me, as if he had planned to confess all of this at this very moment. “Come on, what are you waiting for?!”

His screams are getting louder and louder, but something inside me is telling me to stop and choose not to end this man's life, even if the whole situation is pushing me to do so. This is one of those times where two parts of yourself are fighting within you for different reasons.

I finally give in to the part of me that thinks objectively and reasonably, the part that tells me to put down the gun and just give up this chance to end a life. After all, I'm no longer the one who would take that chance for something better. I latch onto that, I hold on to that, and I slowly lower the gun.

“You're not worth it.” I return my gun to my waist and hide it with my suit jacket, swallowing the bitter pill of knowing what I now know. “This won't bring me back all that time.”

“I tried to move on from that shit, and I thought you would too! But you're blinded by the love you have for your fucking ex-boss's daughter. I thought you were better than that.”

“Maybe you don’t know me well.” I scan the man in front of me from bottom to top. I never thought my devotion to Sofia was so obvious.

“Just so you know, none of that was personal. You know that, right?” He takes one last step towards me and just waits for a response from me, without making another move.

Faced with this, I can only nod and take it in. Accept things as they are, a fight of everyone against everyone for a personal goal. Oz would be no exception to this considering the world he lived in, just like everyone else who chooses this life.

“Good luck, old friend.”

“Sofia! Sofia, please! Wake up!” I shake her body by putting my hands on her shoulders, trying to revive her somehow, but nothing works.

That was the last conversation I had with Oz all damn night, and it was a long one from there on out. I never knew where he was for the rest of the night, as if all ties with him had ended from that moment on.

Hours later I heard nothing from Oz or Sofia. A call was what warned me of what was happening, and as far as I know, it was too late.

Sofia's voice on the other end of the call sounded painful and very deteriorated. That forces me to immediately go look for her in the whole place, but apparently she is not inside the club. Right in the back of the place where I bet Sofia went to smoke a cigarette, right where the recycling bin is, is Sofia's unconscious body. My heart is racing. Nothing in my life has ever made me feel on edge like this.

A small splash of blood near her head brings to mind the worst-case scenario of her fate. One where even the love of my life might not be there anymore. But I decide not to cling to that damn scenario for once and take the woman in my arms and seek shelter for her.

If she didn't let me down in the past before, I wouldn't do it with her now.

[irradiatedwarlock]

I see them everywhere.

Albatrosses tend to pair for life, and it can take a while to find the right partner. Reunited pairs go through an elaborate, synchronized ritual of braying, wing spreading, and bill tapping to reaffirm their bonds before getting down to the business of breeding. 

[vulshokbersrker]

I think I forgot to mention that the Bray Archives project I was working on is done!

It was a fun thing to make. I may come back to it later if I want to make it faster and enhance the search function. But that is something I kinda don't wanna do with it either. That's because it was mainly a way for me to learn about NextJS and how to build a complicated site with as few files as possible.

I'd share the project publicly, but the service I am using is a paid one and I'd like to keep the costs as low as possible. Having a flood of people using it and testing it might make for a big bill at the end of the month. Sorry.

(I do have another idea completely unrelated to games that would be useful in real life. Sadly just for my local area.)