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Loading... [root@localhost] init mercy Initiating system protocols... Initiating MERCY system... Loading files from encrypted network... N-001 - Primus | File loaded N-002 - Ladies | File loaded N-003 - holE | File loaded N-004 - fAst | File loaded N-005 - Safe | File loaded N-006 - rEdact | File loaded N-007 - reacH | File loaded N-008 - nEtwork | File loaded N-009 - Liam | File loaded N-01
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Welcome to the MERCY system! PLEASE refer to the HELPME file for further details. We Hope You enjoy our prodUctS. WARNING: Contains graphic violence. Discretion advised.
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I'm glad you think so. Thank you!
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Just had to get this out of my head, haha. I was feeling melancholic and I needed to shove that somewhere. XD
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Can't A Guy Visit A Friend?
thecalimack commented on thecalimack's story chapter in Can't A Guy Visit A Friend?
Oh. For this little thing? Well, much obliged, really. -
I'm rarely this idyllic and romantic: had to write it down when I had the chance. My notoriety for being an edgelord and very extra is a thing amongst my friends, apaprently.
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I had a friend. 'Had' is the keyword here. We weren't anymore. Some disagreements and differences of opinion skewed this view. I'm afraid our friendship is one-sided. I miss him dearly, my friend, a constant companion since childhood, often the brash one between the two of us. I daresay reckless, he often dove into trouble faster than I could pull him out of it. It was harmless childhood fights back then, although harmless was relative. And often they were for my benefit.
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I had a friend. 'Had' is the keyword here. We weren't anymore. Some disagreements and differences of opinion skewed this view. I'm afraid our friendship is one-sided.
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Thank you. I've been plotting the story and how I'd make each character less one-dimensional, so it's a bit of a revamp-as-I-go.
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OH SHOOT SORRY I THINK I'M THE ONE WRITING TOO MANY STORIES AT ONCE
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The King had been harried with work left and right. Whoever thought the life of a patriarch was luxury lived in sweet, blissful ignorance. If anything, the nobility below him had easier lives than he did. As a responsible ruler, he felt the need to make sure everyone stayed on track, at least everyone under his direct command. There was so much to do and so little time. He now understood the stress his father went through. There was a knock on the door of his study, and he allowed entry withou
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Glad to see you tune in. I just read through all your comments and I'm glad you noticed my hints. XD More to come, I promise.
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Chapter 10: Struggle Arden spun on his heel, dodging the quick lunge, before spinning on the other and kicking out Damal’s feet from under him. He waved a hand over Damal and his rigid body went lax. “Blood magic,” Arden muttered, tone carefully stoic. He felt something like a wave wash over him, but he brushed it off easily. “You need more than that to grip me, pet.” He watched as one of the brutes had a fireball ready. He needed no enchantment, he stepped off of Damal and leaped into the
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"William, could you bring these sheets down for washing?" Ellis turned his head and saw one of the king's personal chamber maids, Lottie, struggling with a hamper overflowing with sheets. He took the sheets, managing the weight but not expecting it. "Maker, what's entangled in these, rocks?" "I'm pretty sure that child Sullivan has tossed in a pair of greaves or two in there," she remarked, wincing as she straightened her back. "Glad to have someone worthwhile around." Ellis nodded and jos
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Many sought to serve their king personally, so the lines for interviews for staffing in the castle were handled not by the king himself but by proxies, who screened potential servants with the utmost diligence, making sure their background and personality would be welcome in the castle. All of this was overseen by the seneschal, who watched with a keen eye and silent judgement. The hall they were put in was crammed with people awaiting their turn, the cacophony of voices bouncing off every surfa
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“This suit is too stuffy.” “One suffers for art.” “This looks like someone puked colors over me.” “Hardly.” Arden rolled his eyes as he fixed the last tassels on Damal’s outfit. He looked pleasant, and he kept the man’s usually-unruly hair slicked down with a special gel that was all the rage lately. The fact that the ensemble was emerald-green was Damal’s displeasure alone. “There, now you will draw the attention of men and women alike and for good reason.” “I feel like a huge fucking lie.”
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Ellis was giggling as he felt strong hands lead him forward. He held his hands against the blindfold so the light wouldn't peek through and hint at his surprise. "Honestly, Dallas. All this farce isn't necessary! And where's Benedict?" "Over here, Papa!" Benedict cheered behind him. "Daddy's just being silly." Sir Dallas Gallahad shushed their boy and urged his husband forward, a hand clapped on his shoulder and the other holding his hand. "We're almost there, love. Just a few more steps."
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Ellis's mother did him spite, she harried thieves in the dead of night. Put her son and his child to flight, they slew the babe, they slew his knight. Through ill fate, he'd survived, but with this, his loves had died, And now alone he must endure the days without child and paramour.
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Neal brushed aside some of the grime that had gathered at the engraving and pulled away the weeds around the gravestone. Brad appreciated the effort Neal had been putting in ever since they moved into the city. At the grave of his old boss, not for the first time, he wondered if anyone from his old gang left behind a family and if they managed to pass on to whatever afterlife there was. That was one thing about Brad; he never believed in an afterlife. His neighbors would call him a heathen for b
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When Neal was three, he always had a friend no one else saw. No one believed him, so they were scared when he knew things a three-year old had no business knowing. He had no business knowing swear words, or the Great Depression, or the second World War. He even spoke like someone from Brooklyn for a time, despite being three states over. It didn't make sense. As he grew older, he knew his friend was imaginary, in a sense. He was always by his side, giving advice, asking questions, and even tel
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His soul was not his own, and whoever made it wanted it back. How could he just give something like that back?
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It had been two weeks since Arden’s attempted kidnapping. Roland was expending as much resources as he could trying to find answers. Their prisoner was unwilling to cooperate, however, and all they had were a few leads from their camp just outside the city. He was filing away paperwork when there was a gentle, rhythmic rap on the door. Arden let himself in, still in his ‘Elliot Goulding’ disguise. His mask concealed most of his face and his garments were generally a different color from his regu
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I'm back, getting my creative juices flowing and trying to earn discreetly online. A lot has been happening at home and it's been driving me up the wall. It hasn't been the most pleasant experience and it makes me sad that I've been on and off with all my projects mainly because I'm in hiding with my family. But, I refuse to just stop and give up. I keep holding onto these little bits of myself that I feel matter. In the society I'm in, creativity is a waste of time most of the time. It's rather half-assed. I'd like to believe in the potential of a creative and adaptive mind. I'm definitely brooding something personal. Fights and arguments with my folks just fuel this fire to just be better than all of them, and hopefully step on them when the time comes. I've lost most sympathies for them, which I didn't plan and yet can't help but feel. So I came back with a few story updates. I'd been revising the flow and pacing for some of them, so I hope they're to your liking. I posted updates to my long-running series A Frigid Grasp and His Happiness. So have a read and enjoy! I'm aiming for weekly updates so please follow the stories if you enjoy them.
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Arden tested his magic on their way to the noble house, thankful to feel it coursing through him again. They didn't waste any time in making their move. Arden wore an unrecognizable outfit under his cloak and hood, his face hidden under a white half-mask that fitted neatly over his face. He was the very essence of the Mysterious Stranger. He shuddered when a nostalgic memory rushed him. That memory, he didn't need to recall. It was a traumatizing experience in its own right. Roland led them to
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Nathan studied the meal before him, a beautiful batch of lemon chicken with lemon-kiwi iced tea. Noel was gingerly cutting slices for them both, humming to the tune playing on the radio. It was serene. Too serene. "Babe, did something happen?" Noel looked up at Nathan with a soft smile. "Just in a good mood." That didn't answer anything for him, so he asked again. "Why in such a good mood, babe?" "Oh, just something went according to plan." He was serving them both slices of the chicke
