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Portal: Before They Were Cores
Before they were cores:
IDS (Pendleton, Wheatley)/Portal 2 Electrician. Black hair. Bright blue eyes.
He's probably one of the most plain and average employees of Aperature, working twice as hard and trying to be as good as the rest. Normally he just did basic repairs and maintenance and due to his clumsiness and poor judgment, he was kept from working on the more crucial projects. When something doesn't work Wheatley resorts to the last tactic: hit it until it does. He's an electrician, not a hacker. Even if he claims to be one. Nearly fired on several occasions, Cave Johnson saw Wheatley's determination, and Cave couldn't help but think of himself and comparing to Black Mesa: Always feeling like you're a step behind the top dog. Finally, Cave gave Wheatley a choice to become something great, someone important, a chance to prove that the average guy can be just as valuable as anyone else. And when Wheatley agreed without a second thought, Cave k
Far Cry 3 Fanfic CHAPTER 1
Everything was black.
Had she gone blind?
What was going on?
Where was she?
She couldn't think. Her head pounded like a jackhammer eating away at the inside of her skull. Something was blocking her thoughts.
What was her name? She couldn't recall.
Her feeble questioning ended as she faded back out of consciousness.
The ground was cold and hard. She felt something jabbing into her ribs, just below arm, but she didn't have the strength to move. It felt as if an elephant were sitting on her back, pinning her beneath it.
She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. Not only did her eyelids feel as heavy as lead, but she didn't want to look. She knew she was in a bad situation.
It was strange, she couldn't remember anything, yet somehow she knew it would only get worse if she saw where she was and what had happened. She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't bear the thought of the despair that would follow when she did.
What on earth had happened to her? She wondered. She tried to remember what
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More