#checkpoint tales

[wackart-and-whatnot]

So since business has been picking up and I'm taking more and more steps to launch a successful career in all of this creative work stuff, I wanted to let you all know that you can now follow my professional work on facebook and Instagram under the name Checkpoint Tales. Checkpoint Tales is a small multimedia firm that specializes in visual work and storytelling consultancy. That is; my work is to help people tell good stories, and potentially make them some exciting images to follow, that can enhance the experience for the audience. Be it for books, comics, films or games. I will be on active around Copenhagen with writing guilds and writing courses through the summer and hope to see some of you there. If you want to know more about my services ( I help both Danish and international clients ) you can also sign up for my monthly newsletter here: https://mailchi.mp/28779b312567/checkpoint-tales-newsletter

This newsletter also offers monthly tips and insights into creative writing, illustration and living a creative lifestyle. So if you like my work on Redlinestation and later Worldbuildguild, then you are going to want to check this out!

[ceasarslegion]

I have one day of work before i fly out tomorrow which is a bit awkward but at least im scheduled in TSA today so if they keep me there it'll be a quiet chill day. We dont have a ton of direct flights to the states and theyre all small and medium sized except for vegas, so everyone loves working our TSA checkpoint and i got all the american certifications specifically so i'd be scheduled there a lot. And like i said americans are way better as passengers than canadians are generally so im unlikely to encounter a karen today. But now that i said that im gonna get like 12 arent i

[sebdoeswords]

Sorry bby :(

[sayruq]

One by one, we are forced into a truck. Someone who is not moving lands on my lap. I fear that a soldier has thrown a corpse onto me, as a form of torture, but I am scared to speak. I whisper, “Are you alive?” “Yes, man,” the person says, and I sigh with relief. When the truck stops, we hear what sound like gunshots. I no longer feel my body. The soldiers give off a smell that reminds me of coffins. I find myself wishing that a heart attack would kill me. At our next stop, we kneel outside again. I start to wonder whether the Israeli military is showing us off. When a young man next to me cries, “No Hamas, no Hamas!,” I hear kicks until he falls silent. Another man, maybe talking to himself, says quietly, “I need to be with my daughter and pregnant wife. Please.” My eyes fill with tears. I imagine Maram and our kids on the other side of the checkpoint. They don’t have blankets or even enough clothes. I can hear female soldiers, chatting and laughing. Suddenly, someone kicks me in the stomach. I fly back and hit the ground, breathless. I cry out in Arabic for my mother. I am forced back onto my knees. There is no time to feel scared. A boot kicks me in the nose and mouth. I feel that I am almost finished, but the nightmare is not over. Back in the truck, my body hurts so much that I wish I had no hands or shoulders. After what feels like ninety minutes of driving, we are taken off the truck and shoved down some stairs. A soldier cuts my plastic handcuffs. “Both hands on the fence,” he says. This time, the soldier ties my hands in the front. A sigh of relief. I am escorted about fifteen metres. Finally, someone speaks to me in what sounds like native Palestinian Arabic. He seems to be my father’s age. At first, I hate this man. I think he is a collaborator. But later I hear him described as a shawish—a detainee like us, with little choice but to work for his jailers. “Let me help you,” he says. The shawish dresses me in new clothes and walks me inside the fence. When I raise my blindfolded head, I get blurry glimpses of a corrugated metal roof. We are in some kind of detention center; soldiers walk around, watching us. The shawish unrolls what looks like a yoga mat and covers me with a thin blanket. I place my bound hands behind my head, as a pillow. My arms sear with pain, but my body slowly warms. This is the end of day one.

Read the rest of Mosab's harrowing tale in here (if you don't have a New Yorker subscription)

[websterstylemag]

Blanc! Souls of Chronos! Wanted: Dead! Theatrhythm! Tales of Symphonia! THE NRW CHECKPOINT!

It's new game time as @briansapph & Webster Style take a look at #Blanc #SoulsofChronos #WantedDead #Theatrhythm #TalesofSymphoniaRemastered on the latest @THENRW CHECKPOINT! #thenrw #videogames #nintendo #gamers #action #remasters #art

*********************************************************************************************************** Ways To Support Become a Producer on Patreon for just $1 per month. https://www.patreon.com/websterstyle Pete and Pedro: Use code EHAWKES10 or (https://bit.ly/3rClqHK) to get 10% off your first purchase. Try Dubby energy drink. Get 10% off your first purchase with code…

[soon-palestine]

Conversation with a Hamas leader: P: All this killing & destruction… for what?

H: In Vietnam, there's a General called Võ Giáp who got half a million of his men killed. Today his huge sacrifice is looked back at as essential for Vietnam's liberation…

P: We're not Vietnam, every liberation struggle is unique to its context.

H: Oppressed people always win against colonizers…

P: Not everywhere. Native Americans, Aboriginals, and Maoris never managed to drive the colonizers out!

H: We're not native Americans, every case is different…

P: But you weren't you just comparing us to Vietnam?

[Long argument]

H: So what is your alternative? Nothing else works with Israel, not Mahmoud Abbas' diplomacy, not non-violence, not the international community, not the UN…

In domestic Palestinian politics, Hamas always wins every argument not by the appeal of its ideology, but by the long foiling & betrayal of every single alternative Palestinians ever tried.

Palestinians tried the biggest non-violent protest in Gaza's modern history, the 2018-19 Great March of Return, tens of thousands marching to the fence every Friday bare-chested raising the Palestinian flag (never Hamas')… The IDF took potshots at over 30,000 protesters for sport & bragged about the joy of hunting down people's kneecaps!

Palestinians tried international advocacy, only to be smeared, shut down, labelled "antisemties", detained, harassed, made into cautionary tales…

Palestinians tried negotiations, accepted 22% of their historic homeland & called for international law to be respected, only to be called rejectionists, maximalists, uncompromising & "never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity" (although Israel's Knesset officially rejects the two-state solution in absolute terms).

Palestinians tried to knock on the doors of every UN agency and international court, only to be called "diplomatic terrorists" & for whatever historic decision we got to remain mere ink on paper; never to be implemented…

Palestinians tried collaborating with Israel & providing it with ultimate security (the Palestinian authority), only to be weakened, humiliated, smeared, abandoned, defunded & called "terror supporters"…

Some Palestinians tried even converting to Judaism, only to be automatically rejected out of hand by Israel. One, who changed his name to Davidi ben Abraham & studied the Torah in depth, was literally shot at a checkpoint by an Israeli soldier who got mad at "Davidi" for daring to call himself "Jewish". How dare he?

These failures upon failures have only ever lent credence to Hamas & strengthened it.

As always: Palestinian nonviolence requires global non-silence!

[frostgears]

We Who Will Not Bow

It had been a difficult night.

"You're not an Academy mage. You're her," the injured guard said, defiant. "Bree the Bodiless. Bree the Banished. Bree the Bloody… go on, then. Kill me. Get it over with."

"And what purpose," she said, frustrated, "would that serve? Gods, they've been telling tales about me in my absence, I see. Hold still, I think I can fix this."

She opened a module drawer on her left arm, pulled out a silvery metal module marked with a quincunx of green jade inlay, snapped it into the socket on her left palm. Thin tentacles ventured out from an aperture, tasting the air, dripping with orange ooze. The guard shrank back against the side of the checkpoint tower.

"What are you going to do to me? What is that— aaaahh!"

Bree clasped her hand over the bolt wound on the injured guard's arm. Tentacles sank into flesh, writhing between her jointed porcelain fingers, probing under skin.

"Don't squirm, that's a burrowing bolt head, we don't want it burrowing any deeper. And these are preserved regeneration glands from a nesting bog kraken. They guard their eggs, did you know that? For up to two months. But the Great Bog is a miserable environment. There's parasites, and fungi, and necrotic plague, and so the damn things evolved these organs to channel mana into their eggs and young, almost like healing spells, to give them a fighting chance. Not against me, though. I killed this one and took its regeneration glands and doomed its clutch, just to get back one more thing I used to be able to do before that fucking archon took everything away from me… okay, wiggle your fingers…"

The guard's fingers moved. Bree took her hand away, satisfied. The tentacles retracted into her palm. She held an evil-looking bit of spiraled and fluted black metal between thumb and forefinger, rotated her wrist with a series of clicks, turning it around to inspect.

"Got it. All of it. Regrowth forced it out."

Her chest plate slid open. A lurid orange glow splashed across the burrowing bolt head, the hand holding it, and the face of the guard. She squeezed the bolt head, and it crumbled, not bending as mundane metal might, but falling to dust. The glow flared brighter.

"Gotta feed the furnace. Saved your arm, paid the cost; let's go, sweetheart, I need all the help I can get. Pick up your crossbow and follow me."

Her chest plate clacked shut.

"I'm not following you anywhere, traitor!"

Bree shrugged, then held out a hand. Her other one. No disembodied organs in the right hand, although anyone who'd actually seen what she could do with the thing built into its palm would no doubt prefer to hold the left.

"The bastards who killed your mates were Crimson Vanguard, the Crimson Pact's commandos. Real dickheads even by Pact standards. Drink to your squad's memory tomorrow that you all gave nearly as good as you got, because they don't normally leave any survivors. Plus, the Vanguard always sends a backup team. So, way I see it, either you come with me, and you might live, or you run and you probably don't, and really, which one of us is the traitor then, right?"

The guard glared at her through narrowed eyes, but took her hand. Bree hauled her to her feet. And then the guard ran for it.

"It's you! You're the traitor!" Bree yelled at the guard's rapidly receding back. "In case it wasn't clear from context!"

Her voice in this body was beautifully clear and melodic, but not particularly loud; it hadn't been built for yelling, and it didn't satisfy. Not that it would stop her from trying.

Something twanged behind her. A projectile of some kind bounced off her back.

"Nice try," she said, spinning around and folding her right hand down to reveal a hand-length metal spike nestled in a cavity in the mechanism of her arm, "my turn now." An internal spring released. The spike shot out, and did what it might be expected to do to a human skull.

She wiped fresh blood off her faceplate, afterward; tasted the crimson spatter with the tip of an intricately jointed porcelain tongue. It didn't taste like anything. It never did. Nothing did.

"You didn't have to come here," she said to the headless Vanguard commando at her feet. "Any other town. Or better yet, stay home, and don't murder anyone, and I could return the favor. But you came here armed, and it lives here, and I have this little compulsion to take care of it, yeah? 'HER TASK FOR THE TIME BEING SHALL BE TO SAFEGUARD AND PROTECT HER MOST RECENT VICTIM, UNTIL AND UNLESS SAID VICTIM MAY RELEASE HER FROM SERVICE, SATISFIED'," she said, in a low, mocking tone. "Lyric's horrified to even look at me, so I doubt satisfaction and release are on the table any time soon, right?"

No answer was forthcoming.

"Well, fuck you too, buddy. Time to go find your friends."

She sped along the main road, each step a leap, her torn and patched Academy cape flapping behind her. Everyone trying to get into the town had fled when the first Vanguard team set fire to the checkpoint, with their wagons if they could, on foot if they had to. She passed several wagons that stood abandoned, stopped briefly at another to shatter a yoke with her fist and free two terrified oxen.

Then she saw what she was looking for: you'd have to be an idiot to keep driving your wagon towards a burning guard tower, unless you were the rest of the second Vanguard team, with a wagon full of bad news.

Bree knelt in a ditch by the side of the road, screened from view by a thicket, and swapped out the regeneration gland module with another set of pickled arcane beast parts in a can, which did another thing she'd been able to do on her own before her body had been taken away.

The wagon was almost to her, close enough that her upgraded senses could clearly see the outline of a crossbow beneath the driver's plain black cloak. She tickled the stolen sun-serpent pyrosis organ with an internal actuator, and flame bloomed in the night again.

They came scrambling out, firing back, the snap of bows audible over the screaming of the horses. Disciplined, she had to give them that. Bolts hit her in the face and chest.

Not to much effect, of course. She'd once been Lyric's twin, an almost peerless servant automaton frame, built by her old business partner to last, but fundamentally also built to serve tea and look good in a maid outfit. It wasn't enough. It wasn't her. She'd made Coda upgrade her again and again, until Coda's own restorative compulsion had hit its limits, and the artificer told her there was nothing more she knew how to do. By then, she was strong. From there, she'd upgraded herself.

Three of them rushed her with swords. Close enough, Bree thought; she raised her right hand, opening the palm shutter, and whispered, "Nis zerat volut, ghran."

Her soulcatcher, the glowing point of twisted light in her right palm, was, in some sense, the reason she was here, stuck in this patchwork body with its almost nil astral presence. It was an instrument of more subtlety than power and it still worked for her when the rest of her magic had died. She'd upgraded it too. Now it didn't need a soul to be loosened from its mortal shell first.

Ghostly purple light streamed over them, and a moment later, they were down. She fed their torn-off souls to her furnace. Apparent time slowed to a crawl, the high ticking of her main escapement dropping to a steady thud, thud, thud. She snapped blades, broke bones, ripped through the remaining commandos with accelerated fury. The details were messy and irrelevant, forgotten as quickly as they came. The last two Vanguard were carrying a box. She took it from them and opened the lid.

The shock broke her concentration; her time sped up again. "Titan voidwasp larvae," she said, almost reverently. They'd been covered at the Academy, briefly, not something anyone was expected to encounter. The shiny purple-black grubs were from somewhere far, far away, and their eventual monstrous metamorphosis drank souls, just like she did now, but on a colossal scale. They were city killers.

"Here's the thing, little guys, even I don't trust myself with shit like you. Sorry. Protect and safeguard, you know how it is."

She fired her spike, retracted its cable, fired again, into each one in turn, until nothing was left but ichor and chitin splinters. Then she teased a last fractional burst out of her pyrosis module, playing a jet of flame across the mess, just in case.

That was it. There didn't seem to be much else to do. She checked for Vanguard survivors. One of them wasn't quite gone.

"Who… what… the fuck… are you?"

"Just somebody's discarded doll," Bree told him. "When the Pact interrogates your ghost, tell them Bree said not to come back." She dispatched him, as cleanly as she could.

For an indefinite time, there was no motion on the bloodied road, except for the dying flames, and the wind teasing her cape and her hair.

Silver radiance kindled beside her.

"Oh no, not you, don't you fucking start with me—"

"JUSTICE."

"—can piss up a rope!"

She ramped up her speed again and tried to strike the figure of a burning haloed skeleton with fire and the soulcatcher, both at once, but hit nothing but empty air. The archon was only as tangible as it wanted to be. She'd find a way to get at it someday, but it seemed today wasn't going to be that day.

"CEASE THIS."

"Get fucked."

"IT MAY INTEREST YOU TO KNOW THAT THE SUMMONING OF THE CHOSEN HERO HAS YET AGAIN FAILED."

"Not my fault the archmages can't get it up."

"THE HERO IS SUMMONED TO SAFEGUARD THE KINGDOM. THAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THE RITUAL. THE INVOCATIONS BESEECH THE DIVINE TO FILL A NEED AND PROVIDE A PROTECTOR IN THE TIME OF CRISIS."

"Okay, I don't care."

"IF A PROTECTOR IS ALREADY INCARNATE, THE DIVINE FEEL THEIR DUTY IS DONE. EVEN IF THE HERO IS UNAWARE OF THEIR ROLE."

"I jacked the Chosen Hero's soul and sold it to Coda and put it in a doll, right, I was there. So what, you're saying they can't do it again because Lyric's already here, even if it's a doll maid and not a hero? Tough shit, I guess. You met it, you know it isn't exactly hero material."

"YOUR ASSESSMENT IS CRUDE BUT CORRECT. IT IS NOT, AND IT WILL NOT BE. IT IS CONTENT TO SERVE AND TO ENJOY ITS NEW FORM. AND YET A HERO EXISTS. SOMEONE PROTECTS THE KINGDOM ALREADY, ALTHOUGH THEY DO NOT THINK OF IT IN SUCH TERMS. THEY DID SO AGAIN, THIS NIGHT."

"Wait."

"YOUR ACTIONS PRODUCED A HERO."

"Oh gods no."

"THE GODS WATCH. THE SKEIN OF DESTINY IS RE-COILED, A TANGLE REMOVED."

"I can't be—"

"JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE. GOOD LUCK TO YOU."

Bree roundly cursed the archon in her annoyingly pleasant and musical voice, until it disappeared, and then another fifteen minutes for good measure, in case it felt like coming back. When it didn't, she started walking.

She looked back, once, to see the lights of the town. Somewhere back there, Coda and Lyric lived in their little shop. Lyric didn't sleep any more than Bree did. Maybe her once-twin was leaning out the window, one of its cute dresses ruffled by the night breeze. Maybe it was even looking this way.

"Well, let's face it, Bree," she said to herself, resigned. "You wouldn't have been a very good maid." □

---

prev: We Who Serve

next: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 1: Bree 1

[lilacgaby]

01 | Mᴀʀʀʏ ᴍᴇ

~1.3k

chapter select!

the kingdom of todoroki ruled with an iron fist.

lands around were conquered easily, any resistance killed off instantly without regret. through their destructive forceful tendencies, they garnered a reputation across the many nations of the land for their brutality that rivaled even the nation of barbarians.

their harsh punishment to innocents came twice as hard if there was even a chance that the victims happened to be witches.

the tale as old as time went as followed: a witch had resisted the cruel king's orders face to face, which led to confrontation. what were these orders? that was lost to time, but the hatred for witches wasn't.

more specifically, the hatred that had arose from a fight that had left the king's face permanently scared across his eye.

since then, witches have been hunted down and executed in mere seconds, with the only witches allowed to live being ones who served the king himself. the todoroki who had set it into place, and enji who now ruled, all vowed for the same thing.

the murder of all witches who weren't 'serving' the kingdom.

this didn't stop born witch prodigy, [name], from embracing her powers.

even with the amount of books burned, the brooms and wands used as firewood, the king could not stop the generational knowledge that passed down through the witch bloodline. that very bloodline which coursed through her veins.

since childhood, she'd practice these powers. it had been awakened on a full moon when she suddenly found she had the power of ice, she froze over an entire lake just to go ice skating in the summer. feeling guilty, she felt she had to unfreeze the lake and save the now dormant fishes in it, which led to her discovering her fire.

each element of her magic was discovered through experimentation and coincidence, just like the first generations of witches.

because of her strength, personality, and kindness, she was well-known and protected throughout her town's very own taverns and cottages. the villagers would warn her of soldiers passing through, and would even give her space to practice in their yards. she would heal the townsfolk for cheap, start fires, and found other useful ways to apply her elemental magic through her assistance in the town.

in particular: shinsou, a worker at the tavern, toga, a knight, and midoriya, the town's intellect all worked to keep her safe.

everyday, after a hard days of work for them all, they'd sit in the tavern, drink, and chat. midoriya, who couldn't seem to keep his nose out of a book before too long. shinsou, who was eternally tired. and toga, always passionate. they were home to [name], and she was just as important to them as they were to her.

the town, which was abandoned from any form of assistance from the royals, had lost their main form of income which was magic long ago. but, the happiness and community that had been built from the tragedy of the loss was something that couldn't be robbed from them.

as such, this arrangement worked for years, where not a single incident where [name] was ever suspected as a witch had ever come to light. royal checkpoints, random searches, and even interrogations were never fruitful.

until a faithful day where [name] strayed out far too far for far too long.

it had been a necessary risk she neeeded to take. she ran out of frog mucus and birds tongue, which were huge parts of her healing brews.

colds and flus were abundant this time of year, the transition between summer and winter hitting harder for some more than most.

she had just gotten out of the swamp, when from behind she was approached by a man. he was dressed head to toe in expensive garments, hell even his horse was groomed head to toe.

"hello." the strange man said, a fancy air about him. his halfed red-white hair stood out from the rest of his outfit, which was all a royal blue. his heterochromic eyes watching her as she finished stuffing her small basket full of items.

"oh, hello. may i help you with something?" she tried not to show it, but she felt tense. not at the man himself, but because of the red-haired knightsguard member who was staring bullets into her, threateningly.

"yes, actually. i was hoping if you'd know of any healing remedies for my mother. the medics in my home are unable to help her, and you look like you know what you're doing."

she seemed shocked at his request. if royal medics couldn't help how could she? but she decided to indulge him anyways. "oh, of course. i'm not sure if what i can give you would be any stronger or different but, if you follow me to my town i can give you a remedy."

"that sounds perfect, i planned to head into town regardless. thank you..?"

"[name]."

he stuck out his hand, as he introduced himself back. "shoto todoroki."

she almost drops her basket at the revelation, but snaps out of it quickly enough to take his hand. this guy was the heir to the todoroki empire? and even the royal medics couldn't heal his mother? what was going on? why wasn't this headlines everywhere?

"oh, well, todoroki, you can follow me back to the village. it isn't far now."

"alright then, lead the way."

as she led him, his horse, and that red-haired knight to the village, she was deciding whether or not it was safe for him to head into town. he was a prince for godsake! or more accurately, whether it'd be safe for her to enter with him into town.

"todoroki.. if you don't mind me asking, why did you come all this way yourself? isn't it dangerous?"

"well, i suppose. but i have my knight with me here as insurance, and i can handle myself just fine."

"oh, okay. well, we're here. i'll just be a second." she ran inside a shop, and moments later came out with two vials of a pink liquid.

"these should help at least relieve some of the pain felt. while they're not a full solution since i don't know what exactly she's facing, they're a pain suppressive that will help her feel better."

todoroki looked them over, seemingly impressed.

"you have pretty potent remedies for a civilian. thank you for your assistance [name]."

"ah! well, you know, practice gets me pretty good at them!"

"don't mind my asking but, are you a witch?"

she nervously started laughing and denying the allegations. "what? a witch? you're crazy, what would ever give you that idea?"

"i went into another town before this on accident. a woman who claimed to be a witch gave me a remedy, yet called it a potion. and even so, it didn't feel half as powerful as yours [name]. just from touching yours, i feel a strong aura."

"well.. maybe she was just a liar?"

"no, [name]. i think i'm smart enough to know a witch when i see one, especially since my castle medics are witches."

[name] sighed, knowing she had been caught. "okay, fine, i'm a witch."

instead of slicing her head off right there, he just took on a thoughtful expression as he looked up at the sky.

he suddenly brought his eyes back down to her. "[name], i'm going to ask you something quite forward. i hope you can forgive me."

"forward?"

"i know this is sudden but,

would you marry me?"

she now dropped her basket to the ground, her jaw dropping along with it. was this man insane? he certainly didn't look it, he was actually quite handsome so.

why was he so crazy?

"i- i just met you? where did that come from?!"

"well you see, i really..

want my father off the throne."

next!

[sydsaint]

Just got a thought! How do you think Nick Aldis and Adam Pearce would react to assistant! reader wearing something a little more risque to work and maybe a superstar insults the both of them and she becomes bold and puts the star back in their place

My fav pair of old men in charge of things <3

Summary: Reader shows up to WrestleMania weekend with a special surprise for her favorite bosses. And a determination to not let anything ruin their Mania weekend.

It's Wrestlemania weekend, aka the busiest weekend of the year for WWE. And you're about to be late for work.

You zoom past the security checkpoint and imediatly make a b-line for the GM office that Pearce and Aldis are sharing for the weekend.

"I'm here!" You burst through the door just in time. "I'm here. Whew, I can't believe that I made it." You calm yourself when you see that you're just barely made it to your post before the top of the hour.

Nick looks up from his phone when you come busting through the door. "Ah, YN. I was just about to text and make sue that you were alright." He informs you and puts his phone away. "Oh, and don't you look lovely tonight." He takes notice of the enticing lowcut top and pants that mind as well be painted on that you're wearing.

"Thanks." You grin and blush slightly. "I wanted to make sure I looked good for the show since it's Mania." You explain. "And I'm so sorry that I was almost late." You add. "I had an appointment that I couldn't miss or reschedule earlier today."

"It's alright." Nick shrugs. "You made it just in time, which is all that I care about, frankly." He admits. "What kind of appointment did you need to keep on a Saturda? If you don't mind me asking." He asks you with a raised brow.

You smile to yourself, excited to show off your new look to Nick, and eventually Adam when you see him.

"It's sort of a surprise." You breifly explain. "Last weekend while I was back home? I hung out with a girlfriend to celebrate her birthday. She went out and got her boobs pierced to celebrate, and I went with her." You crack a small michevious smile.

You watch Nick's eyes imediatly flit down to your chest and you can't help but laugh. "It's not what you think." You giggle.

"Oh." Nick coughs. "Forgive me then. That was rude of me to stare like that." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Stare all you'd like, sweetie." You wink with another giggle. "It's nothing that you haven't seen before, right?" You tease him.

Nick chuckles at your playfullness and Adam finally pops into the room, back from wherever he was at. He shuts the door behind him firmly with a stressed frown, but relaxes when he notices you standing with Nick.

"YN! You're here finally." Adam walks over to you. "And all dressed up, I see." He oggles your outfit intently.

"Yes, she does look stunning, doesn't she?" Nick agree's. "And apparently she's also got something to show, right, YN?" He turns his gaze back on you.

You nod and move so that you're standing between the GM's and repeat your tale about going with your friend to get her nipples pierced with her. The story earns the same curious look from Adam that it did Nick, and you laugh again.

"It's not that." You assure Pearce. "Not this time, anyway." You tease with a playfull smile. "However, I did get this done." You finally reveal your special surprise by sticking your tongue out of your mouth to show off the stud now embeded into it.

"You got your tongue pierced?" Adam is the first one to respond.

You nod and return your tongue to your mouth. "Yep! I also got some work done on that tattoo on my thigh, but it's covered by a bandage and my pants right now." You add.

You glance between Nick and Adam to gauge their reactions. Nick seems to be pleasently intrigued by your new piercing. And Adam seems to be a bit flabberghasted by it.

"Well, I think that it suits you." Nick finally speaks up. "I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of being with a woman with a tongue stud." He admits. "But, the implications do intrigue me." He grins at you playfully.

You giggle and turn back to Pearce. "What about you, Adam?" You ask him. "What do you think?"

"I think that you love to push the agenda, don't you sweetheart? Keep me on my toes?" Adam replies with a small chuckle.

"It's my favorite thing." You joke with a laugh. "Now! Don't we have a stellar WrestleMania weekend to kick off?" You ask the pair. "I believe that NXT's Stand and Deliver show should be coming to an end."

Adam and Nick nod in agreement, and everyone parts ways to get some work done before Mania night 1 starts. You head down to the production truck to check up on things while Nick and Adam both check on their respective shows.

On your way back from the production truck, you run into Nick's troublemaker United States champion, Logan Paul. And Logan's not alone. This time around he's brought along his new entourage in Grayson Waller and Austin Theory.

"YN! Woah, look at you!" Logan's gaze rakes over your body, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Who are you all dressed up for, babe?" He asks you.

"Certainly not you." You quip back. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for your triple threat with Randy and Kevin?' You ask him, a hand on your hip.

Logan scoffs, that smug expression never faltering from his face. "I stay ready, sweetheart." He grins and flashes the title belt hanging off his shoulder proudly.

"I'm sure." You snark back. "Can I help you with something?" You ask. "Because if you haven't noticed, since I know that you think the world revolves around you, it's Mania weekend. And everyone is busy." You remind him.

"Whatever." Logan scoffs again. "There's plenty of better looking girls around here that are way less work than you." He sneers at you.

You roll your eyes. "Well I pray for any poor girl that happens to catch your attention tonight." You snark back at him. "Have a nice night, Logan. Good luck in your triple threat. You're going to need it." You add with a grin before walking off.

You hear Grayson and Austin consoling Logan as you walk off and it puts a smile on your face. You return to the office where Nick and Adam are chatting about something or other.

"YN. I trust you had a productive trip?" Nick asks you while you shut the door behind you.

"Everything's good in the production truck." You report. "And I am happy to let you know that our United States champion is feeling his usual self-entitled and confident self."

Nick and Adam share a small knowing look regarding your tone of voice. They smile at each other knowingly before returning to the task at hand while they wait for Logan to show up to complain about you later.

[the-wasteland-tales]

What is The Wasteland Tales?

This is an Ghoulcy project that inspired by the famous Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer.

It is a tale of pilgrims making their way to a shrine together, and along the way they pass the time by telling stories.

The basis of Wasteland Tales is a bunch of settlers are traveling together to re-supply across various checkpoints.

Each unique settler/wastelander has their own tale about The Legendary Vaultie and The Ghoul. They spew some romantic, adventurous, or simply the raunchiest tales of the duo.

In the end, it is revealed that Lucy & Coop were part of their traveling caravan and they’re amused and shocked by some of the stories these folks spewed. 

Story & Art Guidelines

Writer must ensure that a settler/wastelander telling their own Ghoulcy tale. Feel free to take one of the Settlers the project has created, or create your own! 

Stories can be short or long.

Artists can draw any scenario as long as it fits the Fallout Tv Series world. Illustrate Lucy and Cooper in various shenanigans or situations. ( Heist scenario, wanted posters, newspaper clipping, act or good deed to a fellow settler etc )

Do you have to imitate the Medieval Art style? No it’s just the event’s inspiration.

Submit random Prompts: Can’t draw or write? Feel free to participate by sending us Tumblr prompts of what you would love to see! You never know, an artist or writer might get inspired!

Can you create more than one piece? Yes! Just make sure if you choose a settler/wastelander that you provide them a name, since there might be someone else who might want to use another merchant for example.

Each Submission must have:

Creator’s Name:

Title of the piece

Blog, AO3, Twitter or Tumblr Account Links they preferred to be credited to.

Name of their character so we can update the Settler roaster

Deadline: All submissions must be in by December 1st 2024

Please send a message that you want to participate to us, we will update our Masterlist for easy viewing experience.

All creation must be submitted to @the-wasteland-tales by submission, by chat or by email to : taleswasteland@gmail.com

The Project Blog will publish the Art or a link to the AO3 Story to keep everything curated and easy to find.

Thank you for your participation!

Wasteland Tales

[saddayfordemocracy]

10 films on Palestine that everyone should watch

Explore the tales of Palestinians who have suffered atrocities at the hands of Israeli occupation forces for 75 long years.

ith the Gaza invasion dominating headlines around the world and Israel carpet bombing the Gaza strip, killing scores of civilians, we have complied a list of films that highlight the plight of Palestinians so that people remember the human stories behind the statistics.

United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres, in a Security Council meeting held on October 24 to discuss the Middle East situation, asserted, “It is important to also recognise the attacks by Hamas did not happen in a vacuum. The Palestinian people have been subjected to 56 years of suffocating occupation. They have seen their land steadily devoured by settlements and plagued by violence; their economy stifled; their people displaced and their homes demolished.”

His powerful statement rings true as Palestinians have been suffering under the apartheid rule of Israel for far too long. Palestinian people have tried various ways to raise their voices and tell the world about Israel’s atrocities, which have been ongoing since the Nakba in 1948. One of the most successful methods has been telling real stories through films, dramas, and documentaries.

Here are 10 films that depict how the people of Palestine have suffered for the past 75 years.

Farha (2021)

The film depicts the true story of a Palestinian girl who survived the Nakba of 1948, when thousands of Palestinians were expelled from their homeland. The hopeful young girl who wanted to study in the city watched silently from the pantry of her house while Israeli forces ethnically cleansed her neighbours and other fellow countrymen slaughtered by them.

The movie, directed by Hassiba Freiha and Kenton Oxley, is available on Netflix.

Tale of the Three Jewels (1995)

Set in contemporary Gaza, the movie is the story of a Palestinian boy, Yusef, who becomes entranced with a beautiful Gypsy girl. The children explore nature, mysticism, and their future while learning to live amid the surrounding brutality. To escape, Yusef sets off on a journey to the North American dreamworld with his blind neighbour.

Directed by Michel Khleifi, the movie is available to watch online on various sites.

Children of Shatalia (1998)

Farah, age 11, and Issa, age 12, are two streetwise children living in Beirut’s Palestinian Shatila refugee camp, located in the city’s “belt of misery.” The centre is home to 15,000 Palestinians and Lebanese who share a common experience of displacement, unemployment, and poverty. The two children are given video cameras; they use their imaginations and creativity to come to terms with the realities of growing up in a refugee camp that has survived massacre, siege, and starvation.

Directed by Mai Masri, the movie is available on Netflix.

Omar (2013)

Omar is a young Palestinian man living in Israeli-occupied West Bank where he must navigate a steep separation wall and checkpoints to visit his friends. Omar sees his horizons diminish after he carries out a sniper attack with his two childhood buddies. He’s captured, imprisoned, tortured, and coerced into becoming an informer for the Israelis but finds he’s not the only traitor.

Directed by Hany Abu-Assad, the second film from the Palestinian territories to be nominated for an Academy Award is available on Netflix.

Pomegranates and Myrrh (2009)

The film tells the story of a Palestinian woman who uses Dabke (a traditional folk dance) to cope with the loss of her husband, who is taken away by Israeli authorities. The story talks about the political climate of Palestine and the internal and external sufferings of Palestinians.

Directed by Najwa Najjar, the movie is available on Netflix.

Eyes of a Thief (2014)

The film’s central plot-line is a father’s search for his daughter. As he searches, he not only has to fight against the lack of freedom under occupation but also against social boundaries. Having served a 10-year prison sentence for an attack on Israeli border soldiers, Tarek sets out to find his daughter Malak. When he eventually finds her in Nablus, however, he discovers that she has been adopted. He can’t reveal himself publicly as her father, so he takes a job nearby working as an engineer for the official in charge of water at the Palestinian National Authority to be able to approach her in secret.

Directed by Najwa Najjar, the film is available on Netflix.

The Time That Remains (2009)

This semi-autobiographical film tells the story of a father who fought in the 1948 war and chose to stay back when Israelis took over. It depicts the life of Palestinians living as a minority on their own land. The film is divided into four parts.

Directed by Elia Suleiman, The Time That Remains is available for streaming on Apple TV.

3000 Nights (2015)

The film illustrates the plight of political prisoners in Israel. Set in 1980, Nablus, 3000 Nights follows a newly-married school teacher, Layal, whose crime is giving a ride to a teenage boy who is accused of executing a lethal attack on a military checkpoint. Layal is sentenced to eight years in prison, where she spends her pregnancy and gives birth to a boy.

Directed by Mai Masri, the film is available on Netflix.

The Present (2020)

A father-daughter duo living along the Palestine border sets out to buy a fridge. The pair has to cross the checkpoint, segregated road, and armed soldiers, which involves a stringent checking process to cross the border. The movie depicts the life of Palestinians who can’t do basic daily routine things without facing harassment by IDF soldiers.

Co-written and directed by Farah Nabulsi, the BAFTA Award-winning film is available on Netflix.

When I Saw You (2012)

This story focuses on the heartache of a young boy, Tarek, who wants his father and his state back. He is displaced in a grim camp, with no one to turn to, and proceeds on a journey to turn his life around.

Directed by Annemarie Jacir, the movie is available on Netflix.

If you are interested in the historical context of the Israel-Palestine conflict, take a look at this list compiled by Al-Jazeera.

As Israeli forces bomb Gaza relentlessly to ‘punish’ Hamas, killing thousands of innocent Palestinians, it is important to remember their stories.

Words courtesy of images.dawn.com

[philamotrising]

lore checkpoint

a series of loosely connected groups of dragons in and around dragonhome

tenebris grove - an unnatural grove of gloomy pine trees north of the border with the tangled wood. filled with crumbling ruins and overgrown underbrush, a new town has sprung up in response to greater trade throughout dragonhome (tag)

the hallowbluffs - at the top of a high pillar off the eastern coast of dragonhome sits refuge. not all clans reacted well to sornieth's recent elemental upheaval, and some drakes have needed a place to escape and rest (tag)

the faded canyon - a ravine at the eastern edge of dragonhome, where the elemental magics of the labyrinth clash with the earth. the result is the forgotten woods - a magically potent location that plays host to all manner of folk, both strange and mundane (tag)

wanderers - the rhythms of dragonhome lend themselves to meandering, and many find themselves drawn to a path, rather than a place. of course, not all are respectable travellers, and others still are outright criminals. nevertheless, they wander the cracks and crevices of the earthshaker’s realm, and as such are his children.

the cliffhang outpost - tucked in the walls of a crack in the shattered plain, the remnants of a mercenary company live amongst the ancient canyonhomes. their numbers aren’t great, so they’ve turned from more traditional mercenary practices to training other drakes instead. perhaps it doesn’t lend itself to the glory and tales of the old times, but the stories they tell now are less gory, and their coffers are fuller. (aka my lored fodder trainers)

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

this is a side blog - my main blog is @humofnight

[timdrakequotes]

Tim: Look, “Z”…I appreciate--scratch that, I don’t. I can handle things from here.

Z: I have studied you for weeks now, and you are not usually this arrogant. But emotion clouds your judgment, just as it did in Berlin. This is not Gotham. Assuming you make it past the military checkpoints and patrols, of which there are many…then you are faced with the desert and its thousands of landmines, some of them decades old. Our contacts here can navigate them…can you? Do the insurgent forces here fear you? No. They fear the League of Assassins. Alone, in this place, an American “super-hero” will end up a cautionary tale.

--Tim Drake with Zeddmore Washington (Red Robin #4 – The Grail: Conclusion)

[olympusgenius]

How’d the high heel challenge go? Or are you guys still preparing for it?

"Guhhh! I wished nobody would remember that challenge! Damn it!..."

"Umm, Heph...I-I wanted to ask you about that challenge, I heard it was livestreamed but I had a study session because I was on exams' week"

After make his little huff and calm himself, Hephaestus decides to tell his experience at that challenge

"F-Fine...Talos, bring some drinks and snacks please, this will be a long tale to tell..."

"Coming right up, Creator!"

Talos brings a jug of iced tea and glasses and a plate full of snacks while Hephaestus fix his lab to make it comfortable

"Ok...After Grandfather got upset about my answer about who would be better walk in heels and Arachne's intervention, she made it into a challenge like in a reality show, after some weeks, she told us about the rules of this challenge...

First, our guild would walk a tour from Kamata to Akihabara in heels, she provided us with her new footwear line, whoever wanted to tap out from the challenge, that person would yell "flat out" and take off the heels, the last one who surrenders or stay with the heels on the feet at the final checkpoint would be the winner.

The first checkpoint was an izakaya close to the train station, and we were wearing boots, I believed I could get free from the challenge because of my prosthetics...but no...I was in the challenge too...we were fine, and nobody "flatted out" from there, but Arachne made us model at the izakaya, Kurogane almost falls with his face to the floor, Amatsumara was looking kinda uncomfortable but he resisted to "flat out".

Then, we took the train to the next checkpoint, and Arachne made us strut at the train, Takemaru reclaimed and fall after the train stopped, and we changed the boots for high-heeled sandals, but before that, Musashi "flatted out" because he was feeling ashamed about wear girly shoes.

The second point was a bar, and when we come, we model again while we were playing some pool and take some drinks, then Tvastar got a little tipsy and was dancing on a pool table and suddenly he jumped out to make a split...but he falls and hurt his balls, he "flatted out" but he said it was fun.

Later, the rest of us took the train to the third checkpoint, a minigolf field...and the footwear we would be wearing...Formal pumps, it got complicated because those shoes were prone to sprain ankles at unexperimented feet, Grandfather was having problems with them but he didn't admit defeat yet, we were playing while Arachne and Catoblepas were making us pose in a photoshoot...then someone came yelling to Takemaru, it was Motosumi and he brought his kids to play minigolf but he reclaimed Takemaru why he was setting a bad example to his kids wearing hooker's heels and pulling him from his ears, Takemaru tried to explain but Motosumi was still upset, he was forced to tap out.

After that, we changed the pumps for platform stilettos (sighs)...then we had a hell time wearing them to the next spot, a maid cafe where he had to sing and dance...it was unsettling for me to have to sing a silly song and dance at public while people was cheering on us, at least we rest a little but Kurogane falls over his face when one of his heels got stuck in a stool while he was standing up, he tapped out.

Finally, we were Grandfather, Talos and I still on the challenge, and the final checkpoint was Akihabara Academy's theater stage, and Arachne and her team made us wear platforms and make a performance...we were tired but Amatsumara was still up on his horse until during our bodybuilding posing performance he missteps and made us fall at stage..."

"And then?"

"We declare it a Draw...Arachne gave us a prize after that and tolds us the challenge's livestream was successful, even she wants to make it again but with another guild..."

"Ok...was nice and all, but what was the prize?"

All this time, Talos was hiding his feet until he shows them wearing a certain footwear

"(Ehem, ehem) you want me to click heels three times to see what happens, Mama?"

Talos was wearing a replica of the Ruby Slippers from "The Wizard of Oz" movie while he crossed his legs, Hephaestus was wearing his replica too but shyly, making a little heel click due to his embarrassment

"G-Grandfather has a pair too if you wanted to know..."

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 46 – The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez

Okay the month of August was essentially a write-off for...a lot of things, but non-web serial reading among them! Now trying to claw my way out of the pit and back on the horse. So, some high concept genre fic full of queer people and war crimes, just what the doctor ordered.

The Spear Cuts Through Water is the fantasy epic and love story of a pair of warriors – one a generally despised one-armed checkpoint guard, the other a positively reviled princeling – as they escort the moon goddess in her attempt to escape the prison her sons had trapped her within as they tyranize and empire that spans a continent. As told through a dream/vision of the Inverted Theater, where shades throughout time are called while they sleep to witness a performance put on by the favoured child of moon and sea. Intercut with the same tale as told through out POV’s grandmother, along with vignettes of his life as the son of a failing cloth merchant centuries in the future as the world goes through its equivalent of WW1. All this metaness and layering is either the book’s strongest point or it will make your eyes roll back into your skull so, you know, make an informed choice here.

Being entirely honest I don’t remember exactly how this book ended up on my radar – I believe I was first pointed towards after I expressed some dissatisfaction with this year’s Hugo nominees as something that would have been a more deserving inclusion on the short list. Certainly I’d never heard Jimenez’s name before picking it up. Entirely happy I did, anyway – whoever first rec’d it yes, this does deserve a Hugo nod way more than some of the other nominations.

The plot itself is quite well done, but absent any of the stylistic flourish wouldn’t really have been anything that memorable. The layered framing devices – and the way that they intrude on the narrative in a hundred different ways, switching from depicting the action to saying how it was staged and presented or how the narrator heard the tale told – are really just fantastically well done, enough that even when it got all meta and self-referential I was still enjoying it more than enough to just go with it.

Not that our heroes aren’t fun in their own right. They’re both at times profoundly unlikable, and other times utter idiots, and always totally and completely incapable of intelligibly expressing their feelings. It’s great, love them. Even if on occasion I also wanted to throw rocks at them. The main supporting cast – or at least Defect the tortoise and the moon/empress herself – are even better, really.

Though as far as characterization goes its the extras where the book really shines. It has a trick I really, really like where little snippets of the internal monologue or history of some fellow traveller on the road or sentry being gutter from behind are interspersed into the action in italics like this. Diegetically this would be the chorus in the theatrical performance, but regardless it does a shocking amount to make the world feel like it’s full of actual people and not just mannequins forming a backdrop for the characters who matter.

The book fits into the honourable tradition of modern SFF with cool-eyed and unsentimental portrayals of feudalism/imperialism, war crimes and general oppression (including in this case very plot-relevant and character-informing ableism) but only a vague and attenuated sort of 21st century homophobia, if that. Like all modern queer genrefic it’s also at least kind of in conversation with the looming shadow of Burying Your Gays, with a bait and switch tragic heroic sacrifice that seemed very conscious and pointed.

The framing devices lend themselves well to the book being written in a kind of mythic register, which I very much enjoyed. The epilogue felt like an intrusion of history on mythology, and I do mean that as a compliment, full of messiness and ambiguity and short on heroes and golden ages or utopias. Overall very much enjoyed the book, perfect reading for being stuck in a waiting room for a passport renewal.

[annelidist]

the incentive system ruina: fairy tale of the forgotten ruins has going on with SP, total EXP, and checkpoints is really cleverly designed. in ruina, skill points (SP) are a valuable reward - spending them is how you progress your player character's current class, altering the balance of their attributes and unlocking new skills. while delving into a ruin, you can return to town to resupply basically whenever you want - but, if you accumulate a certain total amount of experience in one trip, you get rewarded with SP upon returning, and the best way to earn experience is to explore the dungeon and engage with its various rooms and setpieces (monsters reward comparatively little exp, so just hanging around near the entrance and farming encounters won't get you far). similarly, you can rest in town to fully restore your party for free (including their MP, which is otherwise a scarce and carefully managed resource), but doing so advances time by a day - and if you can make it through a leg of the dungeon within three days of starting it, you're rewarded with SP for your trouble.

the result of all this is that even though the game is not particularly hard on the face of it, the player is constantly incentivised to take risks and push their party's limits - just a little further, just a little deeper, knowing you could pull back to rest and safety but hungry for the reward danger offers. it'd be a lovely tension in any game, but it's just perfect in the context of a dungeon RPG.