#gwen001

[baashirdayne]

When Baashir Dayne couldn't focus he would walk around. And the sword of the morning found little ease when traveling. So he went to the pitch, but he wasn't familiar enough with the Reach. A man who didn't often socialize outside of his own people didn't approach others. Nor did he find himself chatting with men over tales of war. He didn't find himself impressed with the warfare they took part in around Westeros. For every great warrior there were ten who would die in Dorne sooner than survive a conflict against his own blade. His tongue moving over his lips, he walked through the darkness of the reach, eyes trained before them.

The sword of the Morning cut the figure of a warrior, dawned in banded armor as he always wore in the other regions, his sword on his right and his dirk on his left, the flowing cloak wore the falling stars of Starfall. Edged with silver and white. Pushing his hair back and away from his face, he continued walking, letting his feet take him until he was back at his apartments.

He made out the shape of her before seeing her, the orange orb of her candle highlighting blond curls. The lord didn't slow his steps nor did he try to walk softer, if he had ears she already him coming and if she didn't, he wouldn't accused of approaching this woman with undo intent.

"I'm afraid not. I've no talent for brushwork." A casual conversation, his eyes going to the canvas, scanning what he could make of the image he took a step closer and leaned forward. "Perhaps some Reachmen." Working on a self portrait he imagined. He'd heard many tales about the Reach as one would hear of any regions. Highgarden, easier for the snakes to hide.

And he glanced at the woman, he did not know her. He didn't know whether she was a lady, princess, or queen of some kingdom. She didn't look like a Reachman, she had the look of those from the west. Or the Crownlands. Even in the shimmering light of candle one could see her beauty, illuminated by the Gods.

Hmm, he thought, looking back at the painting.

who: @baashirdayne when and where: random wheel spun starter, using a random prompt as a sentence starter. this is a flashback thread, back to when the realms met in the kingdom of the reach.

there was a figure stood within the garden, dimly lit by the flickering embers of candles that lined the gravelled path of one of highgarden's seemingly endless amount of land. in the distance she knew there would be endless fields of golden roses beneath a starry night; the hues of the sky had long since turned pink and light blue, and soon they would turn even darker. the figure was dressed in shades of champagne, if not for the threads of gold and crimson running through the borders of her skirts; it was rare to see this specific lioness adorned in shades of gold, for where there was the most gold was in the tresses of a mane.

pinned, somewhat loosely, where there was enough ringlets to come loose to frame her face; only startling emerald hues were fixed upon something that was entirely beautiful.

beautiful, in a way that was not natural. it were not the seemingly endless amounts of natural beauty one could find within the reach, superfluous at best: there was no sense of beauty needed for true human survival, and yet the gods had bestowed a land that were naturally beautiful in a show of their benevolence. to create a sense of fascination and peace for their creation. this were no beautiful flower, or natural pool which glistened with shades of blue - it were a canvas. manmade beauty, which perhaps at times, even rivalled the beauty of the gods.

an easel had been left within this section of the garden, perhaps left unattended by another who had decided to attend the excessively extravagant ball within the feasting hall. the sound of music continued to play from the distance, a tune she had known since she were a girl: only the nightingale no longer sung, and the cage had become more of a home than the top of the world ever was.

upon the canvas, were figures; only she could barely see it, considering the darkness that stretched over the garden. taking a step toward one of the candles that were lit up to illuminate a path, she swept it within a dainty hand, careful to hold it by the base rather than where the wax would burn her: using the flames to look upon the image. there were two figures, seemingly clad in lavish dress, holding empty bowls; in the background, there seemed to be a world on fire. and yet, their plates remained high, bountiful, with fruits. all bright crimson fruits. her gaze flickered toward the seven pointed star that both the figures wore, though she were unable to tell if they were meant to be men or women. and finally, at the bottom, there was a title.

the stranger's mercy.

her brows furrowed slightly, finding herself fixated upon the image of the burning world on the other side of the window in the painting, though when she heard the sound of gravel, she turned. only, the way she turned did not imply surprise, or even shock, or alarm. almost as though she were ready to accept, acknowledge, or cast away whatever it was the world had brought upon her now. instead, she found a man stood before her she did not know in the slightest. her hand wrapped around the candle, silently bringing it between them. she knew not this man - and she would have no qualms with setting him on fire if she needed to. "does this illustration belong to you, my lord?" she asked, ready to make it clear she were not planning on torching it.

[baashirdayne]

who: @gcuienveres where: walking through the library notable details: the pair are engaged after dating for a period of time, they have not set a date just yet which is the cause of some media speculation. after spending years in roughly the same social circle, they meet again in paris when bash moves there after he and myriam end their years long relationship.

"And over here, yes, this is where we used to study together." Bash knew he would remember. They didn't really study together. They studied at the same time and some times they were there on the same days. And then he also remembered when Myriam came into the library, and how that night went as well. Bash took out his phone, his thumb hoovering over the messages app before he opened the camera. "A rare moment alone. Quite nice, right? They said no one would bother us here."

Bash stepped close to her, looking around the empty room and then smiled as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "We can go down to the town as well, if you like. What do you think? I came back here a while back, came to speak with the lacrosse team. I don't know why they chose me, perhaps it's because we do still donate." Bash thought the boarding school made his life better and he would always write them a check, have something repaired, and donating to the build fund.

"Oh, yes, there's another thing." He took her hand, walking, talking and talking and talking. Bash didn't know why he was talking so much. Yes he did. "Do you want eclairs?" She would say no but he would ask anyway. It was important to ask.

[hackgit]

[Media] ​​Pentest Tools

​​Pentest Tools A collection of custom security tools for quick needs. Some useless/not working scripts have been archived and some others have been moved to their own repository to get more visibility, feel free to check them:👇 https://github.com/gwen001/pentest-tools #infosec #pentesting #redteam

[iniyabasnet]

@gwensgold​ location: the pale stallion date: 17th may, 2021 time: 2pm

Iniya had once read a quote that said something along the lines of harbouring a grudge is poison to the soul. They could see why this was true, but it didn’t stop them from doing it anyway. They enjoyed holding a good grudge, it allowed them to feel as though they had some control over situations where they had very little, and usually prompted her to become particularly motivated in proving the subject of her grudge wrong in some form.

Gwendolyn Goldsmith was one such subject. Iniya had only been nineteen when they had tried and failed to buy The Pale Stallion, outbid by a fucking heiress who held grandiose ideas of restoring the pub to its so-called “former glory”, but six years on, the wound still smarted when prodded. Which, unfortunately, was more often than they’d like, given that they often found themself in Farringdon, just streets away from the building which should have been hers. In an impressive display of stubbornness, she had refused to actually enter the pub since losing it, but now that they were under the control of the gang who had claimed it as territory, it seemed only right that they pay the place a visit in an attempt to understand Death a little more.

It was, as they suspected it would be, underwhelming. If Gwen had made the place look beautiful and inviting, they would at least have a begrudging respect that she had succeeded in creating something impressive. But it was dirty and dim, just like its clientele. Yet she still pointedly took a seat at the bar as soon as she caught sight of the blonde head on the opposite side of it, running a hand admiringly over the striking piece of wood before quickly removing it upon realising how sticky it was. “Double scotch, please. Whatever your nicest is.” Their eyes met, and Iniya raised her eyebrows slightly. “It’s been a while, Gwendolyn. I’m surprised you haven’t run this place into the ground yet.”

[morcfcrarum]

come back.  even as a shadow, even as a dream.  --euripides 

tw: grief

gwen doesn’t know how she gets home.  the streets pass in a daze, and it’s only when her hand touches the cold metal of the latch on the door that she comes back to herself and realizes where she is.  home.  is it truly home anymore?  she steps inside.

theo’s boots are by the door.  she was supposed to mend the hole in the heel when they got home.  does that matter now?  her heart aches, breath catching painfully in her chest as she tears her gaze away from the ownerless boots.  half her soul has been ripped away.  at least he knew, at the end.  she’s too numb to cry.  then she sees the envelope on the table, her name written in theo’s familiar scrawl.

it’s in her hands, and she’s opening it, revealing a letter.  a letter from theo.  a letter he must have written before they left to fight.  he knew.

my love, if you’re reading this, it’s because i didn’t make it.  i’m sorry.  i’m so sorry.  divines, he- despite her hands shaking, she sits at the table to read on.  the tears begin to burn her eyes, but she fights them back.  he speaks of a dream of a life together, a family, a dog, a beautiful house.  he speaks of baby names he’d thought of- a whole list, because he wanted a child so badly.  a child to give the childhood he never had.  he speaks of being grateful that he’d landed on her doorstep that one night, grateful she’d given him guidance and purpose.  then, oh, then-

i’ve been trying to find the perfect ring to propose to you.  i knew i wanted to spend my whole life with you, grow old with you.  i spent two months before i found it, and i wanted to propose when we went on that picnic date.  but then everything went to shit, and i just had this terrible feeling.  i hid the ring in those boots you were going to mend.  her eyes snap to the boots, and she lets out a quiet sob.  one hand covers her mouth, trying to hold herself together.  there’s more to read.  you don’t have to wear it, but i want you to have it.

i’m sorry i had to leave, my love.  but even though i’m gone, i’m still there.  my love for you, for what we had, is still there, and i know we’ll see each other again in another life.  until then, please don’t hide yourself away, gwen.  live your life entirely.  when i see you again, we will have everything we’ve ever wanted, i promise.  

i love you, wholeheartedly.

there are droplets staining the bottom of the letter, and it takes a moment for gwen to realize she’s sobbing.  when she does realize it, her knees give out, and she falls to the floor with a thud, sobs painfully wracking her entire frame.  her entire being.  she’s wailing, crying out until her throat is hoarse and she loses her voice.  crying until she cannot give any more tears.  she manages to steady her breath somewhat, and she pulls herself over to the boots- his boots- and reaches inside.  sure enough, there is a beautiful ring, with a stone to match the color of her eyes, and the cold knife in her heart twists.  she slips the ring onto her left ring finger, sending a silent promise to never take it off.

i love you, wholeheartedly.

[the-emrys-bordeaux]

One second Emrys had been stood next to Mallory enjoying the New Year festivities, the next he was slumped against a wall with a large, sharp piece of wood sticking out his lung. Emrys had tried to move, but that moment had been so agonisingly painful he hadn’t dared do so again. He knew he had only made his injury worse, and feared injuring himself further by trying to move again - even to pull it out. Not that Emrys thought he had the strength. It felt like with every drop of blood he lost his strength wained even more. 

Emrys wasn’t sure what would happen if he bled out entirely, it’s not like it would kill him. He had no wishes to find out regardless. 

He began shouting out Mallory’s name, hoping she was close enough and well enough to hear. He paused, thinking he could hear someone shouting back. There it was again. It wasn’t Mallory’s voice, but... Gwen’s! Thank god she was alive. Emrys considered her family and was overjoyed to know she was alive. She sounded close by but Emrys’ wasn’t able to see exactly where. 

“Gwen? Where are you? Are you alright?” He called out into the air thick with dust, listening out for a reply.  @gwendolyncaris

[hackgit]

[Media] ​​Find subdomains on GitLab

​​Find subdomains on GitLab You need a GitLab token, if you don't have any you can easily create a free account on gitlab.com or use my github-regexp to find one or more... https://github.com/gwen001/gitlab-subdomains

[hackgit]

[Media] ​​google-search

​​google-search Performs searches on Google and display the resulting URLs, as simple as that! https://github.com/gwen001/google-search

[hackgit]

[Media] ​​bxss

​​bxss My alternative to XSS Hunter to find blind XSS. https://github.com/gwen001/bxss

[baashirdayne]

"Yes, it should still be there. I've not heard anything about a closure from Omer." And while Omer no longer lived in the town, his mother made herself comfortable there. Bash knew this because he insisted on stopped there with Gwen and of course, he forgot to tell the guards who followed them but it was a small town and they were easily located. Bash, of course, was proud to introduce Gwen to Mother Florent and it came with a tray of cookies.

"Yes, yes, there will probably be more. Why not? They've the future King and his sibilings here." Bash walked them to the chair, taking a seat and pulling her into his lap, his arm around her waist. His fiancee did not often allow for these moments but Bash knew when to play his card correctly. They were alone, none around save for the guards who waited near the doors.

"I said I was sorry." Bash kissed her shoulder. "You must forgive me. They shouldn't ask such questions." And he shouldn't have said I agree with the Americans, send her home.

who: @gcuienveres where: walking through the library notable details: the pair are engaged after dating for a period of time, they have not set a date just yet which is the cause of some media speculation. after spending years in roughly the same social circle, they meet again in paris when bash moves there after he and myriam end their years long relationship.

"And over here, yes, this is where we used to study together." Bash knew he would remember. They didn't really study together. They studied at the same time and some times they were there on the same days. And then he also remembered when Myriam came into the library, and how that night went as well. Bash took out his phone, his thumb hoovering over the messages app before he opened the camera. "A rare moment alone. Quite nice, right? They said no one would bother us here."

Bash stepped close to her, looking around the empty room and then smiled as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "We can go down to the town as well, if you like. What do you think? I came back here a while back, came to speak with the lacrosse team. I don't know why they chose me, perhaps it's because we do still donate." Bash thought the boarding school made his life better and he would always write them a check, have something repaired, and donating to the build fund.

"Oh, yes, there's another thing." He took her hand, walking, talking and talking and talking. Bash didn't know why he was talking so much. Yes he did. "Do you want eclairs?" She would say no but he would ask anyway. It was important to ask.