text:
You'd think the color of the most photographed bridge in the world would have a more exciting name than "international orange." Something like "vermilion" or "terra cotta" or "burnt sienna" might seem more appropriate.
Whatever you call it, it's the vivid, unmistakable color of the Golden Gate Bridge, which turns 75 next year. But back in the 1930s, the now-iconic hue was a radical choice.
'Unique And Unconventional Treatment'
First, to set the record straight, the bridge is named not for its hue, but for its location. It's built above the Golden Gate Strait, the entrance to the San Francisco Bay from the Pacific Ocean.
The color came about thanks to Irving Morrow, the Golden Gate's consulting architect, who noticed the striking reddish-orange primer painted on some of the steel.
Morrow designed the bridge's lighting and its art-deco styling. He also championed the unusual color. Most bridges were gray, silver or black. It was expected that the Golden Gate Bridge would follow suit.
"He had to convince the Department of War, the permitting agency at the time, that the largest suspension span ever built at the time [should] have this wild crazy color," says Golden Gate Bridge spokeswoman Mary Currie.
The bridge's construction began in 1933. Two years later, Morrow made the case for the wild color in the 29-page document, Report on Color and Lighting, which he presented to the bridge's board of directors.
"The Golden Gate Bridge," Morrow wrote, "is one of the greatest monuments of all time. Its unprecedented size and scale, along with its grace of form and independence of conception, all call for unique and unconventional treatment from every point of view. What has been thus played up in form should not be let down in color."
The primer would need some added tones, but Morrow felt it was an ideal complement to the gray fog, the golden and green hills, the blue water and sky.
Who Paints The Bridge?
There are more than 10 million square feet of steel to paint on the bridge. It's constantly touched up, not just to keep up the color but to protect it from the salty weather.
Currie says one of the big myths is that the bridge is painted from one end to the other rather than continually touched up.
Paint superintendent Rocky Dellarocca jokes: "Yeah, you start at one end, and when you get to the other end, you retire." That's how long it would take.
Dellarocca spent two decades painting the bridge. Now he oversees some 30 bridge painters.
"Rocky dreams in international orange," Currie says with a laugh.
Painting the bridge is tough work. Only rain stops Rocky and his crew. But the bridge is wrapped in fog almost 70 percent of the time. And the winds can blow 60 mph — which can cause problems because workers usually use spray guns.
"There's some places it's so windy you have to hold the spray gun next to the steel — otherwise the paint will blow off at a 90-degree angle. That's why, to be a structural steel painter — bridge painter — you've got to be a little off-center," Dellarocca says.
A Special Brew
Buckets of paint are stored in an underground bunker near the bridge. Dellarocca estimates that 5,000 to 10,000 gallons are used yearly.
You can't just walk into a paint store and buy the Golden Gate Bridge color. You may find something called "international orange," but it's not this international orange. This is a special mixture formulated just for the Golden Gate.
"Over the years, I've had so many people call me," Dellarocca says. "They want to get this color because they want to paint their bikes, the trim on their house, their fence, their dog house. They love the bridge."
Dellarocca spent a good deal of time mailing chip samples to anyone who asked. Now you can find the exact paint mixture on the Golden Gate Bridge, Highway and Transportation District's website.
Color? I Can't See The Bridge!
San Francisco is regularly wrapped in the kind of fog poet Carl Sandburg described as coming "on little cat feet." When that happens, it's hard to see the color of the paint on the bridge. The cables curve upward but go nowhere, disappearing into the fog.
"But when this fog goes away," Currie says, "you'll see the beautiful Marin Headlands and golden hills as they reflect against this beautiful international orange."
It's an understatement to say that Currie and Dellarocca take great pride in watching over this bridge.
"People took care of this place before I got here, since 1937," Dellarocca says. "I'm going to take care of it, and when I retire, someone's going to come right behind me and keep taking care of this bridge."
Can he imagine the bridge any other color?
"No, it's the most beautiful bridge in the world," he says. "The Navy wanted to paint it black and yellow so it was more visible, but the [Golden Gate] Bridge District said no way."
No way, indeed.
STEVE INSKEEP, host:
There is nothing secret about what lies a few hours south of California gold country, one of the most photographed structures in the world.
Ms. KATIE SOMERS (College Student): I like it 'cause it's orange. That's Boise State colors, orange and blue. And it's orange, kind of.
Unidentified Woman #1: Ish.
Ms. SOMERS: Ish.
INSKEEP: That's college student Katie Somers visiting San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge, which turns 75 next year. That orange-ish color was radical for the 1930s.
NPR Special correspondent Susan Stamberg explains just how radical.
SUSAN STAMBERG: Orange-ish is certainly more fun than the real name of the bridge's color - international orange. Vermillion would be better, terra cotta, burnt sienna. Whatever you call it, it is the vivid, iconic, unmistakable color of the Golden Gate Bridge.
This particular day, on the bridge, with spokesperson Mary Currie, we are enwrapped by a cloak that regularly visits San Francisco on little cat feet.
Here's the thing. This is a foggy, windy day. Whats the point? I cant see the bridge.
Ms. MARY CURRIE (Spokeswoman, Golden Gate Bridge District): Right, but when this fog goes away youll see the beautiful Marin Headlands and golden hills as they reflect against this beautiful international orange.
STAMBERG: Here it comes. Look at that, the fog is moving and theres that tower; not clear yet, but as if you had a really bright orange pastel and you smooched it up - there it goes again.
(Soundbite of laughter)
STAMBERG: The color goes, comes, goes. And according to Marie Currie, was kind of an accident for which the bridge's consulting architect gets the credit.
Ms. CURRIE: It was Irving Morrow that saw the primer that was on some of the steel when it arrived here, reddish orange. And he had to convince the Department of War, who was the permitting agency at the time, have the longest suspension span ever built at the time to have this wild, crazy color.
STAMBERG: Because bridges were gray, black or silver, not orange-ish. During construction, Irving Morrow noticed how the primer grew luminous in the shifting atmosphere of San Francisco Bay. In 1935 he wrote: The Golden Gate Bridge is one of the greatest monuments of all time. What has been thus far played up in form should not be let down in color.
For paint, the primer color would need some added tones, but it was just right with the gray fog, the golden and green hills, the blue water and, when you can see it, sky.
Mr. ROCKY DELLAROCCA (Paint Superintendent): When I come to work every day, my heart goes like this when I see the Golden Gate Bridge.
STAMBERG: Rocky Dellarocca has painted the Golden Gate for more than two decades. Now he oversees the bridge's 28 painters. Tough work, only rain stops them. But theres fog almost 70 percent of the time. Wind can blow 60 miles an hour. And they're using spray guns.
Mr. DELLAROCCA: There's some places out here where you're painting out in the wind that, you know, it's so windy that you have to hold the spray gun right next to the steel, otherwise the paint will blow off at a 90 degree angle. Thats why to be a structural steel painter or a bridge painter, you got to be a little off center.
Ms. CURRIE: Rocky dreams in international orange.
STAMBERG: My dream at that moment is to get out of the wind, fog and cold. We head down to a storeroom full of buckets.
Going to guess, there's orange paint in there.
Rocky Dellarocca dabs the famous color on my finger.
You know what? It feels just like paint. But look how pretty it is on my finger.
Mr. DELLAROCCA: Yeah.
STAMBERG: This is beautiful orange. Its not an aggressive orange...
Mr. DELLAROCCA: No, it's a very...
STAMBERG: ...its subtle, it's got...
Mr. DELLAROCCA: ...soft orange, yeah.
STAMBERG: It's got browns in it or some blues...
Mr. DELLAROCCA: Dark, there's yellows.
STAMBERG: Yeah.
You cant go to a paint store and buy the Golden Gate Bridge color for your boudoir. You may find something called international orange. But it's not this international orange. This one is mythic. Another myth is about applying the paint.
Ms. CURRIE: They start at one end and go to the other end every year, and then turn around and go back - not.
Mr. DELLAROCCA: No. I always tell them you start at one end, and when you get to the other end, you retire.
(Soundbite of laughter)
STAMBERG: That's how long it would take?
Mr. DELLAROCCA: Yeah.
STAMBERG: More than 10 million square feet of steel get touched up continually year round. But not on this windy, wet day.
(Soundbite of vehicles)
STAMBERG: We stood on the bridge one last time, hoping the fog would clear -but no. We could see the vermillion cables curving upward, but going nowhere disappearing through the fog. Thrilling, really.
Mr. DELLAROCCA: It's the most beautiful bridge in the world.
STAMBERG: Can you imagine if it were another color?
Mr. DELLAROCCA: No. The Navy wanted to have it paint it black and yellow, so it was more visible. But the Bridge District said, no way.
(Soundbite of laughter)
STAMBERG: No way, indeed.
Mr. JERRY BURKHOFF: To me, color doesn't matter.
STAMBERG: Well, there's always a critic. New Yorker Jerry Burkhoff is visiting Golden Gate Bridge for the first time.
Mr. BURKHOFF: Any color you want to schmear it, it's great. Gray would be great.
STAMBERG: Well, good enough for New York bridges. But not this one, which I, growing up in New York, always thought was the color of gold. The Golden Gate Bridge is named not for its hue, but for its location. It is built above the Golden Gate Strait, that legendary passage from the Pacific Ocean into the San Francisco Bay.
(Soundbite of song, "San Francisco")
Ms. JEANETTE MCDONALD (Actor): (Singing) San Francisco, open your golden gate. You let no stranger wait...
STAMBERG: Im Susan Stamberg, NPR News.
Soundbite of song, "San Francisco")
Ms. MCDONALD: (Singing) ...outside your door. San Francisco...
INSKEEP: Indeed, she is. And you can watch Susan's narrated slideshow of the Golden Gate Bridge with photos past and present at NPR.org.
We wanted to hear about bridge you love so we put out a call on Facebook, and here are some of the replies:
Kimber Smith Fiddler has fond memories from Martin's Bridge in New South Wales, Australia. It's only a small bridge, he wrote, but it's got character and I know every bump, and going over it means going home.
Ryan Griffey(ph) enjoys the Aurora Bridge in Seattle, not so much for the bridge per se, but for whats under it - an 18-foot high sculpture of a troll.
And Leslie Potts treasures the swinging bridge that dangles between rock formations at a high altitude at Rock City Gardens at Lookout Mountain on the border between Georgia and Tennessee. She says: You can make kids splat themselves in the face with ice cream while screaming their heads off in delight.
It's MORNING EDITION from NPR News. Im Steve Inskeep. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.


text:
Does First Oral Intake After Emergence Predict the Incidence of Post-operative Vomiting in Children? (XOndansetron)
This study has been completed.
University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
Information provided by (Responsible Party):
University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier:
First received: November 8, 2012
Last updated: August 5, 2014
Last verified: July 2014
- Full Text View
- Tabular View
- No Study Results Posted
- Disclaimer
- How to Read a Study Record
Second only to pain, nausea and vomiting are the most uncomfortable complications of surgery and anesthesia. Unfortunately, our best defense against post-operative nausea and vomiting, a medicine called ondansetron (Zofran), is in dire national shortage. Consequently, non-pharmacological methods of prevention and treatment for post-operative nausea and vomiting have increased import. Following emergence from general anesthesia, children often request food and drink. There have been no studies to date that definitively determine the optimal first food or drink choice for these children. This study proposes to randomize children to either water or juice first intake following surgery. The investigators expect to find that children who consume glucose are less likely to vomit than those who first receive water.
|Post-operative Vomiting
|Other: Apple Juice Other: Water
|Study Type:
|Study Design:
|Allocation: Randomized
Intervention Model: Single Group Assignment
Masking: Double (Care Provider, Outcomes Assessor)
Primary Purpose: Prevention
|Official Title:
|Randomized Controlled Trial: Does First Oral Intake After Emergence From Anesthesia Predict the Incidence of Post-operative Vomiting in Children?
Resource links provided by NLM:
MedlinePlus related topics: Nausea and VomitingU.S. FDA Resources
Further study details as provided by University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill:
Primary Outcome Measures:
- Post-operative Vomiting [ Time Frame: 24 hr post-op ]Patients will be assessed for vomiting upon entry to PACU until 24 hours post-operatively.
|Study Start Date:
|October 2012
|Study Completion Date:
|December 2013
|Primary Completion Date:
|December 2013 (Final data collection date for primary outcome measure)
|Assigned Interventions
Placebo Comparator: Water
Water will be given as the study subject's first oral intake after emergence from general anesthesia.
|Other: Water
Experimental: Apple Juice
Apple juice will be given as the study subject's first oral intake after emergence from general anesthesia.
|Other: Apple Juice
|Ages Eligible for Study:
|2 Years to 18 Years (Child, Adult)
|Sexes Eligible for Study:
|Accepts Healthy Volunteers:
Inclusion Criteria:
- Dental surgery
- Tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy
- Strabismus surgery
- Age 2-18
Exclusion Criteria:
- Patient refusal
- Parent refusal
- Allergy / contraindication to ondansetron
- Prone to vomiting
- Inpatient
- Preoperative anxiolysis with ketamine
- Recovery location other than PACU
- Nil per os at baseline
- Presence of enteric tube
- Contraindication to any part of the study protocol
Contacts and Locations
Choosing to participate in a study is an important personal decision. Talk with your doctor and family members or friends about deciding to join a study. To learn more about this study, you or your doctor may contact the study research staff using the Contacts provided below. For general information, see Learn About Clinical Studies.
Please refer to this study by its ClinicalTrials.gov identifier: NCT01725399
Please refer to this study by its ClinicalTrials.gov identifier: NCT01725399
|United States, North Carolina
|UNC Chapel Hill
|Chapel Hill, North Carolina, United States, 27599
Sponsors and Collaborators
University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
|Principal Investigator:
|Jamie R Wingate, MD
|UNC Chapel Hill
|Study Chair:
|Peggy P McNaull, MD
|UNC Chapel Hill
More Information
Keywords provided by University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill:
Additional relevant MeSH terms:
ClinicalTrials.gov processed this record on September 21, 2017
|Responsible Party:
|University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
|ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier:
|NCT01725399 History of Changes
|Other Study ID Numbers:
|Study First Received:
|November 8, 2012
|Last Updated:
|August 5, 2014
Keywords provided by University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill:
post-operative vomiting
Additional relevant MeSH terms:
Postoperative Nausea and Vomiting
Signs and Symptoms, Digestive
Signs and Symptoms
Postoperative Complications
Pathologic Processes
ClinicalTrials.gov processed this record on September 21, 2017

subset: commoncrawl


text:
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All Comments
What were some punishments for the Black Slaves of America ?
You know, like whipping, why they did it, etc...
I googled your question....easy!
Were the modern slave trade and segregation punishment to Africans/African Americans for something we did?
I'm black and I wonder. I look at how the Jews suffered in the Bible partly because they didn't listen to God.
Those thing didn't just happen just in black in America. Blacks all over the world suffered. But to answer your question. I think you need to read the book "things fall apart" (not talking abut the Roots album). It kind of describes how Africa began to fall apart upon the arrival of the white man. Alot of it surrounds greed on some levels and hedonism on others.
We allowed ourselves to fall victim to White supremecy. so they torture that ensued at the hands of white people, was the reaping of the seed that we sowed ourselves.
In Slave days, were Black women ever hung like the men were?
or what was the most common punishment for women opposed to men?
You all must be very proud of your ancestors,arent you? Ps I would never hang such a beautiful woman like you.
Does anyone know any book about Black female slaves and how they lived?
I'm sorta writing a book about this and I need information about Black female slaves, slave auctions, slavery in the Caribbean, and the "punishments" and touture that the salves went through. My story takes place in the Early 1700s in the Caribbean and in Virginia.
'cane river' by Lalita tademy
and another book called "clottel" (written by some guy who was a slave)
If you really want to get pissed at white people read a book called "our ***" (not for the faint of heart)
good luck
Can anybody tell me why a black person would be a Christian?
Exodus 21:1 -- 21:7
These are the ordinances that you shall set before them:
When you buy a male Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years, but in the seventh he shall go out a free person, without debt. If he comes in single, he shall go out single; if he comes in married, then his wife shall go out with him. If his master gives him a wife and she bears him sons or daughters, the wife and her guyren shall be her master's and he shall go out alone. But if the slave declares, "I love my master, my wife, and my guyren: I will not go out a free person," then his master shall bring him before God. He shall be brought to the door or the doorpost; and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl; and he shall serve him for life.
Exodus 21:20,21
When a slaveowner strikes a male or female slave with a rod and the slave dies immediately, the owner shall be punished. But if the slave survives a day or two, there is no punishment; for the slave is the owner's property.
Religions change. There are many outdated practices in the Old Testament that neither Christians nor modern Jews follow. Otherwise, they'd still be sacrificing animals on top of a stone altar to atone for their sins, and executing guyren who hit their parents.
Who do you think had it worse, white slaves or black slaves in American history?
"In addition to slaves (who were mostly from Africa), Europeans, including Irish, Scottish, English, and Germans, immigrated to North America in substantial numbers as indentured servants, particularly to the British Thirteen Colonies. Over half of all white emigrants that arrived in the English colonies of North America during the 17th and 18th centuries may have been indentured servants
When the ship arrived, the captain would often advertise in a newspaper that indentured servants were for sale
Like slaves, servants could be bought and sold, could not marry without the permission of their owner, were subject to physical punishment, and saw their obligation to labor enforced by the courts. The large number of servants who ran away or committed suicide suggests that the conditions of life during the period of bondage may not have been so different for the servant and the slave. Female indentured servants in particular might be raped and/or sexually abused by their masters"
Do black people read about this in class with other white students?
Expect black people to post something that makes no sense, and then flag you or whatever. Some just can't face the truth...
Who do you think had it worse, white slaves or black slaves?
"In addition to slaves (who were mostly from Africa), Europeans, including Irish, Scottish, English, and Germans, immigrated to North America in substantial numbers as indentured servants, particularly to the British Thirteen Colonies. In the seventeenth century, however, nearly two-thirds of English settlers came as indentured servants.
When the ship arrived, the captain would often advertise in a newspaper that indentured servants were for sale. Like slaves, servants could be bought and sold, could not marry without the permission of their owner, were subject to physical punishment, and saw their obligation to labor enforced by the courts.Both male and female laborers could be subject to violence, occasionally even resulting in death. The large number of servants who ran away or committed suicide suggests that the conditions of life during the period of bondage may not have been so different for the servant and the slave."
Do black people know about this?
Black slaves and Indentured servitude isn't slavery. We are still treated as second class citizens today and get discriminated against 24-7 by racist like you. Why do you have a disdain for blacks? Did a black person beat you up or steal your boylfriend? You should talk to a psychiatrist about your hate for African Americans. £
Do you think micheal vick should have no punishment because of the color of his skin?
200 years ago black people were slaves.now the ncaap says black people shoudnt have to pay for the crimes today because of past history.the nfl could expell him for life on there rules.involving brutal killing of dogs.should he be given a lighter sentence even though if it was any other race white,hispanic,asian they would have to pay in full? no over emoitional answers please.
Its going to be another OJ ,
and that sucks
How can black people be Christian when the bible supports slavery?
Old Testament
The first, and most obvious, thing to remember is that there is no specific condemnation of slavery to be found anywhere in the Bible. At no point does God express even mild disapproval of enslaving human beings, robbing them of what freedom and independence they might have had. On the contrary, God is depicted of both approving of and regulating slavery, ensuring that the traffic and ownership of fellow human beings proceeds in an acceptable manner. In many cases, the regulations display a horrible disregard for the lives and dignity of enslaved individuals, hardly the sort of thing one would expect from a loving God.
Passages referencing and condoning slavery are common in the Old Testament. In one place, we read:
When a slave owner strikes a male or female slave with a rod and the slave dies immediately, the owner shall be punished. But if the slave survives a day or two, there is no punishment; for the slave is the owner's property. (Exod. 21:20-21)<
So, the immediate killing of a slave is punishable but a man may so grievously injure a slave that they die a few days later from their wounds without facing any punishment or retribution. All societies in the Middle East at this time were condoned slavery, so it shouldn't be surprising to find approval for it in this document. As a human law, the above would be commendable - after all, there was nothing quite so advanced anywhere else in the Middle East. But as the will of an all loving god, it's abominable.
As a side note, it should be observed that the King James Version of the Bible presents the above verse in an altered form, replacing "slave" with "servant" - thus gravely misleading Christians as to the intentions and desires of their God. One more reason to reject fundamentalist claims that the KJV is the only true and valid translation!
Yousir! Yousir! Black people can enjoy being Christian Slaves. Only we White people, Christian or Not cannot be slaves ( exclufing Slavic countries of course) Uhhh! The Original KJV used Slave. Only after about 1830 as slavery popularity was waning did it change to Servant.
Hope no offense to anyone of African Nationality or Descent. I oppose slavery or any discrimination by any measure except for performance. If I treat another as inferior. He has become my superior..
KJV is not the only claimed perfect translation. Many others follow. Just that KJV like it or not is the original source for all following English translations. Other claims as to translating from Greek, Roman and Hebrew texts are false until they produce the documents or the copies of the borrowed library/museum permits. And half don't even know Hebrew reads Right to Left that claim they translate.
Story about a man who stole a ham and had one chained to his chest as punishment - anyone know it/name/author?
This was a story we discussed in high school. I would like to reference it in something I am writing, but can't remember the name or author. We watched a video representation, but I'm fairly certain it was based on a story. The man accused of stealing the ham was either a slave or a free black man from a similar time period.
The father in "Sounder" was arrested for stealing a ham, but I don't think they strapped it to him before they killed him.
Post your question at www.whatsthatbook.com. Hopefully, someone there will recognize this book.
© adultlingeriepics.com, black slave punishment


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Wednesday, 7th December, 2005, 09:33 PM #1151
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you're both wrong, tristol's diary had lotsa spoilers
Friday, 9th December, 2005, 01:35 PM #1152
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Just wow! What an update...
Thanks very much for all the effort you put into these two stories!
Sunday, 11th December, 2005, 12:44 AM #1153
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*waits in suspense*
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 12:54 AM #1154
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Nooo, need update!
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 01:06 AM #1155
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Writing it at this very moment. It ran away from me, so it's about twenty pages right now, which would be making it one of the longest updates I've had so far.
I'll post it when it's finished.
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 01:16 AM #1156
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*laughs with maniacal glee*
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 03:46 AM #1157
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Cliffhangers and a moment of supreme DM rat bastardry.
Oh Cyrics scrawny *ss Florian said with a look of disgust. That smells wretched down there.
Fyrehowl gave a high-pitched involuntary whine as she stood looking down into the darkness. The stench was heavy and wet, something that had permeated the air of its source for some time, and something that was still present, not simply an old scent lingering on the air.
Why couldnt they just have just stayed with incense, gaudy flowers and bad art for their basement? Nisha asked.
Make room for the bad poetry? Clueless asked with a smirk.
Yeah, something like thats around here somewhere. Tristol said. But this smells a bit different, and more like a working laboratory.
Laboratory? Toras asked.
Back in Halruaa. The aasimar said. Necromancers and some transmuters had workshops where theyd work with corpses. And this smells almost like those.
Remind me never to visit your home Nisha said, sticking her tongue out.
Its not all like that. Tristol replied. Its usually much more pretentious.
Kiro chuckled and stepped past Fyrehowl onto the stairs.
Theres a single hallway down here. He called up from below. Its dark, but thats about it. No traps.
There was a distinct pause from below.
No obvious- traps at least.
Florian looked down the stairs before turning back to the others.
Hes a cleric. She said. Go help him Nisha.
Nisha nodded and followed along after Kiro, but, true to the cleric of Sutekhs word, there was no evidence of traps or wards as they walked down the corridor towards the doorway at its far end. But there was something, though it was momentary.
Kiro spun around, looking for something behind them in the hallway.
What was that? Nisha asked him.
Nothing. He replied. I thought that Id heard something. Nothing there though.
He hadnt heard much of anything actually. But back in the darkness he could have sworn that hed seen the stone ripple like so much open, standing water. And what was more, hed been certain that the stone had rippled with the waves of something passing under its surface, cresting above the surface of the floor like a stone diving sea serpent before once again slipping back below the level of the corridor.
Kiro could only shrug. Whatever it was, it was gone and there was no sign of it reappearing as he watched. Still though, it was unnerving, and periodically he looked back to see if it was following them. But as they reached the end of the hallway, there was nothing there, and so he and Nisha called up to the others that the coast was clear.
Once they had gathered at the end of the hallway, they stepped into the chamber at its end. It was fairly small, and a closed door stood directly opposite from them as they entered. But that wasnt all in the chamber. There were four alcoves inset within the wall, set in positions impossible to have seen before entering the room.
And, just as their maker had intended, flickering pinpoints of light erupted into being underneath the visors of each of the four elaborate suits of armor standing in each of the alcoves as beings other than himself passed under their gaze.
Ah sh*t. Florian said.
One of the baroque suits of animated armor flared with internal light as it raised a crossbow, firing a bolt of flame at Toras, striking the fighter in the side. The others raised melee weapons: an ice shrouded mace, a sword dripping acid, and a metal club sheathed in sparks and flashes of electricity.
Tristol acted first, turning one of the helmed horrors into a pile of dust outright with a disintegrate spell.
Meanwhile, Clueless was dodging a series of blow from one of the others, making it seem slow by comparison.
Oh you will regret that Toras said, raising his sword and ignoring his injury as best he could as he charged one of the constructs seeking to flank Clueless.
Moments later, thee of the constructs were destroyed and the one holding only a flaming crossbow was looking at them, seeming to waver between firing at them or giving up. When Clueless put his hand out, prepared to cast a spell, the construct dropped its weapon onto the floor and stepped back up into its original position.
Well, that looks like it was the extent of the security. Fyrehowl said, giving a hard glance at the single quiescent Helmed Horror.
The last guardian gave no reply, and remained still and inactive. Whatever limited self awareness its maker had granted it, it was apparently enough to make it realize that it was incapable of putting forward any effective opposition if it wished to remain alive.
Toras and Florian both kept looking at the helmed horror regardless though, even as the door was opened and the stepped into the chamber beyond.
Looks more like a prison. Clueless said with some discomfort.
The chamber was relatively spartan, resembling a cellblock more than a laboratory. There were six doors leading off from the room: three on the north side, two on the south side, and one larger doorway across from the entrance.
Prison? Kiro asked as he examined the two south doors. Not quite.
The cleric exhaled onto the glass window set into one of the southerly doors. The vapor in his breath spread across the surface, freezing almost instantly into a spider web pattern of frost.
What the Fyrehowl said.
The lupinal walked across the room and stood next to Kiro, looking through the window of first door and then the other. Both doors were metal and both were frigidly cold to the touch.
Not quite a prison. Fyrehowl said. Specimen storage. Frozen.
Indeed, looking through the windows set into each door, they could see two small holding cells. The walls were caked in frost, and a single slumped corpse was positioned in the center of the floor, unceremoniously dumped there after they had apparently expired during torture or experimentation.
Inside the first of the frozen chambers was a naked human. His flesh was bleached and blue-white from the exposure to the cold, but it was evident that he had died long before he had been frozen. The body showed evidence of surgical scars and burns, and a caustic burn across its neck, but there was no evidence of the typical signs of frost burn and tissue death from exposure to freezing temperatures while the victim had still been alive.
Poor sod. Fyrehowl said with a sigh. Got to wonder what he did to get on the fiends bad side.
Does he need an excuse? Kiro asked. It seems like he feels entitled, and anything not judged to be of a similar standing in power, wealth, or race is simply a subject to do with as he pleases. Whoever this guy was, Siddhartha didnt perceive him as a person, just a subject for experimentation.
Clueless frowned and looked at the other doors. It was likely that some of them contained living subjects.
The next chamber also contained a body, but one that was anything but human.
What what is that thing? Fyrehowl mused, peering through the frost-dusted glass. An Alu-Fiend?
Slumped in the center of the chamber was a slim, lithe form with angular features, pointed ears, and a set of leathery, bat-like wings sprouting from her shoulders.
Possibly. Kiro said, peering at the corpse. Its odd to see a half-fiend based on mortal blood other than human, but Tanarri arent particularly selective I suppose.
The elven half-fiend was marked in a similar way as the dead human one cell over. Surgical scars dotted her chest and abdomen, and from bruises on the inside of one arm, and blue-black tract marks across the other suggested that she had been repeatedly bled and infused with some substance or chemical mixture. Either way, she hadnt survived it obviously.
Not an alu-fiend. Tristol said. Its a fey-ri.
Not one of my relatives for sure. Clueless said, giving a skeptical look to first Tristol and then the corpse in the cell.
Fey-ri. Not Faerie. Not fey at all. Tristol replied. Its a specific sort of Tanarri blooded half-fiend gold elf. The name refers to half-fiend gold elves of a specific elven family that was largely killed off centuries ago on Toril. But she fits the bill: half fiend gold elf.
Ugly and evil. Florian said. Still didnt deserve whatever seems to have happened to her though.
Nothing we can do for them now. Toras said. Theyre too mangled to easily raise from the dead. And lets be honest, we dont know anything about them, so it might not be a wise idea to randomly bring them back.
No objections from me. Skalliska said as she walked over towards one of the doors on the opposite wall.
The kobold wandered across to one of the doors and touched it tentatively, then the next, and then the next. She didnt bother checking for traps or wards. After all, this was the fiends private workshop and laboratory as far as they could tell, or an antechamber to it, and it would have only been a hindrance to trap things that he might conceivably be using on frequent occasion.
None of them are cold. She said, turning to the others.
None of them are unlocked either. Clueless said as he tried the handle of the first door.
Anyone inside them? Nisha asked.
Clueless looked into the chamber through the glass plate and jerked back as a poorly dressed human banged at the door from the inside.
Help me! Youve got to help me! The man screamed, his voice muffled by the thick door.
Woah! Clueless said, moving back a few feet.
The banging on the door stopped as the battered looking human looked at his potential saviors through the glass.
Who are you? Florian asked.
The mans eyes twitched and quivered with nervous exuberance.
Please! Youve got to let me go before the fiend returns! Hell going to
Tell us who you are. Florian said, cutting the man off. We wont let you go unless we trust you, and dont think that youll be dangerous to us.
The man tried to calm himself enough to answer.
Im a mercenary. The Rakshasa hired me to hunt someone down, several people actually, several months ago. We only managed to find some, but not all of them. He refused to pay us, and when we demanded partial payment, he killed some of us and imprisoned the rest of us here.
Hmm. Florian said, glancing at the man.
True enough, he had the build for mercenary work, if a bit thinner from lack of food, and his clothing was correct for someone who would have worn armor atop it. Plus, the story fit perfectly with what they had come to expect from Siddhartha.
Anyone object? Florian asked her companions.
No one could find any real reason to say otherwise, and so Nisha picked the lock and they released the cells occupant. He shouted with glee as the door opened, and moved to embrace the first person he could, presumptively to hug them and thank them.
Kiro deftly stepped up and in between the released prisoner and Florian. The moment the man hugged Kiro, Kiros voice echoed in his head.
Please leave now and do not attempt to touch any of these people here. As a greater doppelganger, you could do too much harm if you did.
The man they had released stiffened slightly as he hugged Kiro, but was still smiling to the others, still crying with happiness at his release from captivity.
Who are you? The man asked Kiro, projecting his own telepathic voice.
Kiro released him and answered calmly, still in his head.
Youre free. Go about your way. I dont have any say or stake in what you do after you leave this room. Thats entirely irrelevant to me, and thats all you need to know. Smile at us now and be on your way.
Thank you all. The released man said to them. I cant thank you enough. Do you have a spare blade I can use? Ill need it in the jungle if I try to make my way back to the portal I came here though.
He didnt show outwardly any indication of his and Kiros mental discussion.
Back down the corridor youll find some weapons on the floor left over from some of the guardians we took care of. Toras said.
The man smiled and bowed.
Thank you. Bless you all.
He turned to leave, only looking back once to smile for one last time before leaving. In that moment though, minds touched one last time, first from the doppelganger and then Kiros response.
We will not meet again. Nor would you recognize me if we did.
Indeed. And some might not recognize you, but you wouldnt so much as even see me.
Well, theres one good deed to our names. Nisha said, beaming a cheerful smile around the room which Kiro made a point of returning equally.
Its a start. Fyrehowl said. I still feel guilty over the meal earlier.
Uggg, you had to mention that. Florian said, looking a bit sick. Especially with how much this place smells.
In any event, weve got two more doors. Clueless said. Nisha? Would you mind picking the lock to this one?
Nisha nodded and picked the lock without complaint. Unlike the last door though, the second door, and the third as well, did not contain windows into the rooms beyond them. Unable to have any advance warning of what might be lurking within, they had their weapons out and ready as the door was swung open.
Nothing lunged out at them, much to their relief, and they peered into the chamber beyond.
Large and spherical, it was significantly larger than the first cell, and from the edge of the chamber where it met the door, extending several feet into the room were delicately inscribed warding sigils, all pointed inwards. The chamber was intended to keep and contain something, and that thing was immediately obvious.
Uhh close the door? Florian blurted out as she looked into the chamber. Now?
A fleshy orb, roughly eight feet across hovered in the center of the wardings. At first they suspected it to be a beholder or some manner of beholder-kin, but it deviated from them in several ways. It had no central eye, nor did it have a mouth on its body. Rather, numerous eyes dotted its leathery body at random, and a number of thick tentacles extended out from its flesh as well. Some of those tentacles ended in eyes, some in fanged, almost reptilian mouths, and some were simply shaped for use in grappling objects.
Holy hell what was that?! Skalliska blurted out.
Hes got a bloody Deepspawn. Florian said.
Which is what? Clueless asked. Im not familiar with them, outside of having heard the name, and now apparently having seen one.
Bad things. Very bad, very hungry things. Florian said, putting her foot at the base of the door, like it might help keep the thing contained in its cell, should its wardings fail.
They eat people. Tristol said.
Like Skalliska if she was hungry and desperate enough? Nisha asked.
Skalliska didnt object. She just shrugged.
They eat people and then can spit out copies of them after a day or so. Florian explained. Those copies have memories of the original person, and even skills, and theyre under the control of the Deepspawn.
Its a monster factory basically. Tristol said.
Hmm. Fyrehowl mused. Well we know now where Siddhartha might be getting replacements for experiments he does.
So Skalliska said. What do you suggest we do with it?
Well Toras began.
How about we dont? Florian said, cutting Toras off abruptly.
Why? Fyrehowl replied. If we end up leaving after killing Siddhartha, were just going to be condemning this thing to death by starvation. That doesnt exactly leave me feeling good about myself, dangerous creature or not.
Is it intelligent? Toras asked.
Uh why are we worried about letting it loose here in Carceri anyways? Nisha asked. Its like letting a slaadi lose in Mechanus. Brief, but incredibly fun.
Florian paused and held up one hand.
Ok. Point. She said. Lets at least see what it has to say then.
The door swung back open to reveal the Deepspawn hovering much closer than it had originally been. It now hovered at the very edge of its magical prison; it had been listening to them talk about it.
Several of the aberrations eyes swiveled and dilated, focusing on Florian, Fyrehowl and Clueless as they stepped into the room. From the doorway, Kiro peered in to watch.
Who are you? one of the Deepspawns vaguely draconic mouths said in a surprisingly glib tone.
Florian glanced back at the others before responding.
First, tell us who you are, and what youre doing here. She said.
Several eyes the size of plates all turned to focus on her. The creatures tentacles wriggled and two of them rubbed against one another, some form of bizarre nervous affectation like it was pondering the situation and how to properly answer.
My name is Furnacefang. The deepspawn replied. I feed, I learn, I answer questions to he who feeds me, and I provide to him copies of those I am fed. My life is relatively simple. If I obey I am fed and I am spared the treatment given to those others within this place.
How long have you been here? Clueless asked.
Since the memories of my first feeding flooded my mind. The creature replied, speaking in tandem through both of its tentacles sporting functional mouths. a considerable time. Roughly a century.
Why does your master feed creatures to you? Fyrehowl asked.
To keep me alive. Furnacefang stated bluntly. But that is secondary for him. He uses me to punish prisoners, to dispose of failed experiments, and to produce more subjects for his work.
And you enjoy this I take it? Florian asked.
It is what I am. Furnacefang replied with an idle shrug of its left mouth and several more of its other tentacles.
You are uncertain of what to do with me. The deepspawn continued. I would greatly prefer to be released from my prison cell in this place. I have everything I require, but nothing more. Understandably, my existence is a rather sterile one.
One of Furnacefangs mouths gave an audible sigh and several of its eyes allowed their lids to droop.
One moment please. Florian said, motioning the others outside of the deepspawns cell with her.
I dont mind letting it go. Fyrehowl said. It cant do much more than devour fiends here, and its unlikely that itll do much more harm than that. It was imprisoned here intentionally, so some of the odd effects of Carceri might apply to it, with gates not functioning properly for it if it attempts to leave the plane.
I dont trust it completely. Florian said. But thats just my experience with them from back in Amn. Clueless?
I say we wait till were done looking around. He replied. Then we let it out once its safe to do so. It cant do much harm out in the jungle.
Florian nodded and stepped back into the room with the deepspawn.
Have you come to some agreement? Furnacefang asked, tilting its fanged mouths to one side in a strange approximation of how certain mundane animals expressed a questioning attitude.
Umm Florian said. Lets just say that well release you. But only after were finished exploring the full extent of this place, once weve killed the fiend who keeps you here, and after weve broken the wardings on this place.
Furnacefang hissed softly. It had been hoping for something more immediate, and two of its jawed tentacles undulated slowly in deliberation.
If the wardings are broken on this place I can release myself. The Deepspawn said slowly, speaking with one mouth while the other gnawed at the air. The walls are simple stone, even if magically molded into their desired shape. The wards on this room are linked to the larger ones that extend over this entire palace. Break them, and I can handle myself.
And you will not harm us if we do so? Florian asked.
I have no need to do so. It replied.
Kiro peered at the bloated aberration as if he was judging its trustworthiness. He shrugged and nodded in agreement to Florian.
Fine. Florian said. When were finished here, well break the wards and youre free to go, so long as you dont interfere with us, or anything that were doing here.
Agreed. Furnacefang replied. From what I know, gleaning from the memories of my food, the wardings for this place are contained behind a heavy, sealed door located in the laboratory that joins the room outside of my cell here. The door is likely protected by traps, though I do not know what sort.
They nodded to the tentacle and eye studded creature before leaving and closing the door behind them.
Well, we know whats through one of these doors now at least. Clueless said.
How about the last cell though first? Florian asked. Hopefully its something a bit more mundane.
Maybe. Clueless said. But youre right. Its best to know what all the fiend has bottled up in here before we go in further.
Florian walked to the last cell door and giggled the handle. It was solidly locked.
Nisha, if you could get the door? Clueless asked.
Deepspawn Florian said with a shudder.
Nisha unlocked the door and stepped aside, giving the door a tug and swinging it open.
What they saw inside, bloody and suspended in a column of light, made the deepspawn mundane by comparison.
The fiend hovered several inches above the ground, unburdened by the constant downward tug of gravity. In that tiny way at least, the Astral plane had something to offer him. Siddharthas robes dangled and drifted in the wind, really psionic currents of thought manifesting themselves as pressure or force in the silvery void. And out into the endless empty expanse of the void was where he was currently looking, staring out at nothing in particular as he stood on a balcony of the tower where hed been summoned.
It was hers, her primary residence during their collaborative work upon the Astral, though he suspected that she kept at least one or two demiplanes accessible from her personal chamber which now stood at his back. He deeply wished to examine the room for evidence of such, to say nothing of simply being allowed to observe and learn from the patterns of magic that she had embedded into the towers structure to shield it from detection. That same magic, or some variant of it, also managed to shield the tower from the full force of the continent sized astral storm that seemed to perpetually rotate around the godisle down below where the structures foundations sunk deep, wisely or not.
The storm wasnt natural; it was too large and too powerful to be. Yethmiil also suspected that it was her magic that kept the storm anchored in place, swirling around them and hiding their activities from the Githyanki, and most of all, from the Guardian. All other potential concerns paled in comparison to that entity.
Of course, he was seemingly relegated to a secondary role in it all, especially after his failure on one of the secondary godisles they had been stripping and mining. Of course, that godisle was far from the region surrounding her tower, its godisle and the storm surrounding it. The storm overlapped another eight islands of stone and forgotten faith, all of which were similarly shielded, and all of which ultimately would be of use to them.
So why did you call me here? Yethmiil asked without turning around.
She was there behind him, hed sensed her approach, felt her eyes upon his back. In the purity of the Astral, he could even sense something palpable on the air from the very nearly living magic and dozens of contingent spells effectively painted on her person. Extravagance suited her.
Because I can. Because you must obey. She whispered back with a chuckle. Do I need any other reason?
No. He replied. But outside of simply displaying your power, why did you take me away from my own affairs? I was busy.
You were amusing your own petty interests. They can wait. She said, seemingly without regard for his own personal exploits.
As you wish. He said.
My interests take precedence. She continued, matter-of-factly. And already youve been made aware of the price of failing achieve what portion of them I hand over to you. Or do you forget that exquisite intimacy?
He didnt give a reply. But none was really needed.
She stepped forward and out onto the balcony, dragging a claw across his shoulder as she passed him and spread her hands across the railing. She disgusted him at the very same time that he envied her and appreciated her power, probably the closest equivalent thing to feeling lust that he possessed.
Ghyris Vast has outlived his usefulness. She said, looking up and out into the tumult of the storm where the distant magical envelopes visible under her sight could be seen surrounding the other godisles she had claimed, much like holes punched in the silver sky.
Oh? He asked, honestly curious what she had done with the Bleaker.
For the moment. She replied with some idle satisfaction. But in the event that I need him in the future I havent killed him, which was tempting. Idiot insane mortal. Hes brilliant for his kind, but it was a task getting him to focus enough to teach me what his research had shown, and how to construct the bloody thing. I ended up simply stripping his memories from him moment by moment. Immortality does not imply patience.
As youve made patently clear Mistress. Yethmiil said rather bluntly.
Rather than take offense though, she laughed.
Indeed I have, and you will never be in a position to know otherwise. But outside of my ability to pull your strings and make you dance in a puppet show for beings even more marionettes than yourself, I have something else for you to do when you are ready.
He inclined his head curiously, letting her insults and pretensions pass.
I want you to be ready to assume control of a cessation of our activities at several outlaying godisles in the next month. When the goblins and the gith are done there, you will handle the deconstruction of the towers and the stripping of any evidence to tie the two of us to the defiling of the unlamented dead. Cast the blame on Giths wretched mortal progeny, and if were lucky, Vlaakith can face the Guardians wrath in place of us, and perhaps even in place of her own renegades working in our name.
He nodded silently.
Give me the additional forces needed to ensure that there are no witnesses left alive when we cleanse them godisles of evidence.
You will have what you need. She said, smiling a mouthful of fangs up at the void.
Good. He replied. Then allow me to return to Carceri and finish cleaning up things of my own there.
She shrugged and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. It wasnt much of an answer, but it was all he needed as he strode back out of her chamber.
The figure suspended in a column of pale red light was a Farastu Gehreleth, and though it was horribly bruised, burned, and covered in both recent marks of torture and old surgical scars, it was alive. Slowly its fatigued and bruised ribcage expanded to draw in a ragged breath, exhaling it with equal labor a moment later. The creature hung onto life out of what seemed to be spite, something that its kind possessed in spades.
The light that suspended the fiend above the ground stretched from floor to ceiling between two rune scribed disks, while on a table just out of its reach, had it been free to move its arms outside of the light, sat a tray of various implements of surgery and torture.
Next to the tools of its tormentor hovered an orange crystal that sparkled with magic of unknown purpose. And then, there was the open book of notes and observations, all penned in the familiar hand of the Rakshasa. The book noted with a dispassionate medical style of observation the subjects tolerance to pain, its immunities to certain mind probing spells and psionic effects, and anything that it might have said during periods of excruciating pain or duress. The notes treated the fiend as chattel rather than a living being.
But what was perhaps most noteworthy, outside of the gehreleth itself, was that it lacked the obsidian triangle that was the prized birthright of each and every member of its race. That triangle was its link into its racial collective memory, and the link of its deity and creator into its mind. But there, on the other side of the room, a triangle of cold, black volcanic glass was held suspended from a chain within a localized antimagic bubble.
The gehreleth had been cut off from its race and its creator, made to be alone, truly alone, for the first time in its existence, and then taunted with the damningly close proximity to torture it even more. Perhaps Siddhartha had intended to attempt to draw information from the triangles link to Apomps, the deity/creator of the Gehreleth race. After all, with his palace situated in the jungles of Cathrys, surrounded by an unknown number of Gehreleths lurking in the depths of that scarlet hell of nauseating flora, he might have considered it a worthwhile attempt to tap into their racial memory if only to warn himself of any attack by others of their kind on his home.
Meanwhile, as they examined the chambers macabre contents, the leths eyes were rolled back in its head, and two diamond shaped bumps surrounded by discolored scar tissue stood out against the slick brown and gray flesh of its head: the hallmarks of healed trepanation. It had been through horrors in that chamber that they could scarcely imagine.
The fiend groaned and coughed as it sensed them enter the room, spewing fine droplets of tar and bloody phlegm into the air and onto the floor directly in front of where it was suspended.
He knows you Yethmiil. It softly crooned, rage having long ago given way to wishful thinking and a complete disregard for its own chances of escape. He knows you. He knows you well. The Three Faced Lord will torment you far more than you ever could I.
Fyrehowl looked over to Clueless, and then to the others. Yethmiil? The name was new to them. And it was obvious that the fiend, in its depression and torture borne incoherence, had assumed that they were someone else entirely when they had entered its cell.
The gehreleth mumbled incoherently to itself for several moments before stopping and suddenly sniffing at the air. It gave a confused wrinkle of the fleshy ridges above its eyes, realizing that Yethmiil whoever that was, was not the person who had entered its cell.
Fyrehowl was standing in front of the leth when its eyes shot open with sudden ferocity, pupils constricting as its rheumy eyes focused on her.
Who are you? It croaked. You are not Yethmiil. Nor do you wear his mark.
The Rakshasa you mean? Fyrehowl asked, not flinching as the fiend glared at her with a fluid mixture of arrogant, implicit hatred of what she was, and almost pitiful levels of hope.
The gehreleth tilted its head to one side for a moment before answering.
I/We knew him as Yethmiil. He may go by other names.
Lord Siddhartha. Clueless answered the fiend. That was what he called himself.
The leth snarled at the mention of the name. An almost unfathomable well of hatred was boiling beneath its skin as they watched it. The creature was struggling to contain it in order to have rational communication with them.
What can you tell us about him? Fyrehowl asked.
The leths eyes turned towards the triangle across the room.
Give me the triangle. It said.
Answer our questions. Florian retorted.
The fiend turned to look at the cleric.
Give. Me. The. Triangle. It repeated slowly and tensely.
What does it mean to you? Toras asked.
EVERYTHING! The fiend screamed. It was shaking, trembling, losing self-control.
I am alone The fiend whispered. This you cannot fathom this feeling. You cannot know what this means.
The fiend was drooling and its eyes were glistening at the edges.
I cannot hear Him. It whimpered. We are vessels for Him, and I have been emptied, made nothing, devoid of His whispers, His caress, His love. Everything that I am and was made to be has been stripped away from me. I have nothing left to give for I am nothing without that.
The gehreleth hung like a rag doll in its suspending column of force, defeated, broken, begging for the only object that meant anything to it.
Please The fiend continued, looking up at them, drops of watery tar dripping from the corners of its eyes. Give it to me. I BEG OF YOU!
I dont know Fyrehowl said. We cant trust you.
You come to kill my tormentor? We have something in common then. It whimpered. Please
The leth hung its head and ignored them, not caring what they had to say to it. It didnt matter, because unless they provided it with its link to Apomps, they could rot for all eternity. It continued to ignore them until it felt the weight of a metal chain around its neck, and something erupted within its mind, flooding its senses.
I hope we dont regret this Fyrehowl said.
The moment the gehreleth touched the obsidian triangle, its eyes went wide and it clutched the triangle with obscene, religious ecstasy. In fact, its entire body seemed to undergo a ferocious seizure before it began to whisper to itself, having a dialogue with a being that wasnt present in the room.
yes we shall no as you wish father/mother I will The Gehreleth clutched the triangle and looked up at its would-be saviors. No, they do not know.
Umm ? Clueless said warily as the fiend smiled up at them and something happened.
As the leth looked at them, for a single moment they watched as its eyes turned a solid, glossy black, and they had the sensation that something powerful, something terrible, was staring back at them through- the fiend. It smiled, and then as it blinked, its eyes returned to normal.
I/We will help you.
Kiro stepped back into the room. It seemed that hed stepped out for a moment when they had been deliberating about giving the fiend back its link to its deity.
Alright. Talk to us then. Tristol said, though Fyrehowl and Florian remained skeptical.
I/We will give you what aid I/We can. Revenge for all these petty tortures. I/We do not forgive. Not anything. And your adversaries deserve torment more than most.
The fiends earlier expression of weariness and depression was gone, replaced with utter and complete resolve.
Why should we trust you? Kiro asked. Why do you hate them? Any specific reasons?
Does it matter? The gehreleth asked, looking at the cleric awkwardly for a moment, a look of suspicion in its eyes, but it shook it off and continued. I/We offer to you aid and information and ask nothing in return but that you break the wards concealing this place from the rest of myself/ourselves.
The leth motioned emphatically to its scars, bruises and even more graphic hallmarks of the tortures that it had been subjected to.
This is the only reason that you need to know. It hissed.
So what can you do for us? Clueless asked.
Break the wards and we will raze this place to nothing but blood and scarlet glowing rubble under the void. It replied. But that it only momentary satisfaction for petty crimes against myself/ourselves. We can help you more, later.
How so? Skalliska asked.
Xideous. Xideous will help you. Return to Sigil and my/his/our eyes and hands will bring you to where he is. Xideous is one of our greatest, and you have earned a debt which he will repay for you when the time is right.
Where is he in Sigil? Kiro asked, openly curious.
That I will not say. The gehreleth replied firmly. Xideous has important work, and his/our enemies would slay him in an instant. He will find you and bring you to where he is hidden when the time is right.
Now go and find Yethmiil, Siddhartha, whatever name he calls himself presently. Slaughter him, cut out of his bleeding heart and feast upon it while he still lives. Take revenge for what he has done and what he is. He does not deserve to live upon this most blessed soil of the Father/Mother. His essence sullies it.
They left then as the fiend began to once more whisper to itself, or the triangle around its neck, ignoring them entirely. The experience left them with the impression though, than the Rakshasa was involved in larger things than they had yet fully come to witness and understand the importance of. And so, with that in mind, they opened to door to his laboratory, hoping to find some further answers to the questions raised in the back of their minds by the fiends gehreleth prisoner.
What they had seen in the holding cells could not have prepared them for the horrors that sprawled out in front of them as they stepped into the fiends perverse laboratory. Dozens of bodies lay chained to slabs and workbenches that filled most of the floorspace in the chamber, while others were suspended, either living or preserved in death, within tanks of bubbling alchemical fluids.
What in Mystras name was he doing down here? Tristol asked with disgust as his eyes wandered across chamber and its grisly contents.
Several tables held mortals, and among their number, some of them were copies of the same original person, experimented on in ways that must have been attempts to further enhance the abilities of his unwilling puppet-like assassins. One human subject, breathing in ragged, forced motions of her chest, had apparently had gills grafted to her waist. Others had limbs, additional eyes, and even apparently internal organs grafted onto them from other species, all in some warped attempt to improve them.
This is sick. Fyrehowl said. At the very least, we need to put them out of their misery.
None of the subjects appeared to have been given any drugs for the pain, and most of them were in comatose conditions, or their minds had simply given up any meaningful interactions with a world that only gave their bodies agony upon agony without respite.
Looking further, they saw an ogre nailed to a table with what might have been the eye of a dragon grafted into one of his own eye sockets, bulging and deforming the side of his head as the flesh had been coaxed to expanded and accept the alien organ.
But the mortal experiments were the least of the Rakshasas sins. Those were reserved for a half dozen minor tanarri, baatezu, and yugoloths. The fiends lay twitching and shrieking from the metal slabs they were bolted down to, and for a circle of the three types of fiends, it appeared that tubing, pulsing with flowing blood, reached between bronze valves implanted in their necks, sharing blood between them.
A spinagon twitched and gasped for breath while a pair of vrock wings grafted to its back twitched spasmodically, dripping puss from between the ensorcelled stitches that held them in place within swollen flesh that rebelled at their very touch.
Next to it, a piscaloth jerked in the midst of fever-wrought delirium next to an already dead amnizu. Their heads had been severed and reattached on one anothers bodies.
What. The. F*ck. Florian cursed. What was the point of any of this?!
The pursuit of knowledge without ethics. Kiro said. He simply put to its furthest here. Or at least as far as he could, given that he seems to be exiled in some way or another.
I guess it makes sense. Clueless said. For him at least.
Kiro shrugged. In context it does I suppose.
Fyrehowl closed her eyes briefly and snarled before walking over to where Nisha stood in front of a pair of thick bronze doors. The tiefling had walked past most of the horrors of the fiends experiments without glancing at them, and Fyrehowl, along with most of the others, likewise wished that they had done the same. The ghoulish experiments spread through the laboratory would be haunting them in their nightmares for some time to come.
How does the door look Nisha? Fyrehowl asked.
The Xaositect looked up from where she had been peering into the lock.
Big, heavy and mundane. She replied. Itll take some time, or a summoned Goristro to kick it in. And theres a magical trap somewhere.
Hmm. Kiro said, stepping up to peer at it.
Nisha wriggled her nose. Smell the ozone?
Kiro and Fyrehowl nodded.
I wouldnt suggest touching the door. Not quite yet Nisha continued.
Allow me. Kiro said, bowing his head in prayer.
Suit yourself. Nisha said, backing up a bit.
Kiro touched the lock and a shower of blue-white electrical sparks burst through the air as the clerics touch frayed and dispelled the wards on the doors locks.
You might find it a bit easier now. He said, helping Nisha back up to her feet.
Nisha smiled and went to work picking the doors. And though it took her some time to finally turn all of the tumblers into their proper position, finally they swung inwards a few inches with a dull, heavy pop.
Toras stepped forward to push the doors open, but as he did, a rush of air from beyond, and into the lab made their eyes water with ammonia, and the heavy stench of rotting flesh and spilt blood, even worse than within the lab itself, or their time upon the Astral.
Yethmiil left his keepers chamber with a sour mood stewing heavily upon his mind. His keeper. He preferred to call her that as opposed to anything else. It suited her, and it allowed him to deny her a bit of influence and prestige in his own mind, even if he had to feign obedience anywhere else. But she had power enough to enforce her mandates, and that extended to what he had to do as well, it was simply a fact of his current existence that he had to accept, even if he seethed under her.
Our fortunes have changed before, and they will again. He whispered to himself as he stepped out from the entrance of one of her towers and out onto the frozen, stony flesh of their godisle foundation.
And the next time they do, I intend for our positions of rank to reverse themselves. Your contempt makes for a waste of my abilities.
The stone was cold beneath his bare feet, and for the first time during his current excursion into the silvery void, he didnt hover or fly, he walked. By some bizarre combination of gloating contempt, the dead power serving as a surrogate for what he could not express to his mistress, and also humble respect, Yethmiil chose to walk upon the bare flesh of the godisle.
The complex of towers that loomed behind him as he left, they had all been constructed upon that single massive godisle, one of the largest that he had ever before seen. Despite his own nature, the expression of horror frozen into the petrified face of the dead god beneath his feet it gave him pause, and perhaps something close to fear. But he was in no position to question his collusion with his mistress there upon the Astral and there upon that broken corpse of shattered divinity. Such was his punishment, and he trusted that she knew what she was doing, or at least he was forced to trust her.
He glanced down one last time at that long fallen deity, its life snuffed out by its own transgressions, murdered and exterminated. He couldnt help but worry about what they were doing while the silvery light glinting from the center of the godisle reflected back into the void and back into his own eyes. That gleaming reflection was the last thing of the Astral that he saw before opening a gate back to Carceri, back to his palace, and back to more petty matters of murder.
The heavy, reinforced door swung open into a single, enormous chamber lit by flickering, sporadic flashes of green light: excess energy bleeding off of the dweomers anchored into the stone like swarms of fiendish fireflies humming about and feeding upon the dead. And the dead were everywhere.
The floor of the chamber was littered with dozens of bodies, all in various states of decay, ravaged and tossed aside like trash and refuse after they had been put to brutal, sadistic use.
Tempus Florian said with a hushed whisper as she covered her face with her sleeve.
Every inch of the chamber, the walls, the floors, and even the ceiling, they were all spattered with blood and gore, the fluid and entrails of the dead having been drawn and painted as patterns of runes in infernal, those runes then swirling about to form the shapes of other runes and higher order structures on the walls. In blood and bile, the magic saturated walls were an artists canvas and a poets tablet all at once.
Shes f*cked in the head. Toras said with disgust as they read the words upon the walls.
With the scarlet litten orbs seeping hate and chaos into the starless void, so my own black heart burns with envy, hatred, and dispassionate rage.
Dancing among the dead I slather myself in their still warm blood and laugh at the yet living as they consign themselves to death, knowing full well that torment ends not there. My grasp is long indeed and I shackle them in chains of iron, envy, and fear, all fueling the inevitable.
Hatred within hatred, indignity and exile for the prisoner and warden of the doomed alike. Let the hatred rise and soar in pitch and effect and crush the souls of the objects of my loathing.
Bend, twist, and forge the fires of hatred and pain to mask from sight and scry both my servants home and the inviolable truth, the unseen rationale behind my bloodlust.
Let the skies burn and the seas boil along with my heart as it is unfilled and wanting. The screams of others as they die by my hand my only solace.
I can see that you appreciate my sisters handiwork.
Siddharthas voice rang out from behind them. The fading spiral of light from a closing gate backlit the Rakshasa, framing his robed figure in the doorway ominously as he appeared from out of nowhere.
Accept my apologies for not having been present to kill you before now. I was busy elsewhere.
The fiend extended a hand out towards them, magic already flickering from the tips of his claws.
But unfortunately, youve seen too much, this game has gone on for far longer than I had intended, and now it will be ended.
The fiends whiskers twitched and his lip curled as he prepared to invoke a spell. But before he could incant a syllable, there was a sharp metallic crack and a high-pitched whistle from Florians crossbow.
The bolt, a blessed bolt, shot across the distance in a flash, time itself seeming to hang still in a single moment of breathless uncertainty before it struck home, dead center on Siddharthas heart.
He looked down at the bolt in his chest as it buried itself inches deep, a mixture of surprise and befuddled confusion momentarily replacing that smug certainty from just moments earlier before his eyes rolled back in his head and momentum hurled him backwards. The impact splattered blood across the hallway and flung the fiend through the air and onto the floor, spread-eagled on the stone, motionless.
Last edited by Shemeska; Tuesday, 13th December, 2005 at 07:38 PM.
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 04:17 AM #1158
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Dammit - I was just getting really, really fond of Siddhartha !
And where lies the rat-bastardry? The fact that they killed the guy they were so worried about with one shot? Assuming, of course, that they have killed him.
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 04:33 AM #1159
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Nice Shot. (The real question is... did it take?)
Excellent update Shemmy. You keep making 'em longer and longer...
Tuesday, 13th December, 2005, 05:16 AM #1160
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"Wait...Why are you smiling?" was one of the next things she said.
But as for what the case actually might have been, you'll have to wait till the next update.
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The Associated Press is reporting that eight years after Johnny Ramone lost the battle with prostate cancer, he'll be publishing the story of his life in his upcoming autobiography set to be released on April 2nd, 2012 on Abrams Books. The book includes a foreword by bandmate Tommy Ramone (aka Thomas Erdelyi) and an epilogue written by Lisa Marie Presley.
According to his wife Linda, he had begun compiling his memoirs soon after his diagnosis with cancer. The Associated Press quotes:
"It is a really powerful book because his whole life has gone before him and he knows it's going to come to an end, and he really needs to tell everybody what he's feeling inside, so that's what makes it so amazing," she added later. "That is the biggest, most powerful thing, writing a book when you know you're dying."
You can read the full AP article here. Fun fact: Apparently Henry Rollins had his hand in putting this book together.


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DENVER — Forever Cheese Inc. is recalling Ricotta Salata Frescolina brand cheese with the lot number T9425 and production code 441202 due to possible listeria contamination.
Colorado health department officials said Tuesday that 14 reported illnesses in 11 states, including one in Colorado, may be linked to the cheese.
Forever Cheese, based in Long Island City, N.Y., says the cheese was sold to distributors for retailers and restaurants in California, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Massachusetts, Maryland, Maine, Montana, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, Ohio, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Washington and Washington, D.C., between June 20 and Aug. 9.


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PHOENIX — Mayor Greg Stanton released the following statement Wednesday after the Supreme Court said a California ban on gay marriage was unconstitutional.
The statement has not been altered in any way.
"In our country, the most cherished promises are all people are created equal and the government must treat all people equally. Today's rulings from the Supreme Court go a long way to keeping these promises. I share in the joy of the LGBT community and allies for these momentous decisions.
"It is only a matter of time until marriage equality will be the law of the land for the entire country. Because of the Supreme Court decisions today, full equality is inevitable and will come sooner rather than later. Arizona must now live up to our values of freedom and individualism by being a leader and proactively repealing our discriminatory laws instead of being dragged along reluctantly."


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i am 5'4 128 size b small c and wanting full round pornstar type breast..should i choose more cc's? i only tried on 400 n 450 ccs at my doctors office n thot 450 looked good but ne advice on size
Wil Hp 450 Cc Under Give Me a Nice Ful Pornstar Lookin Boobs..was Wonderin if the 450 Hp Cc Will Work
Doctor Answers 6
Will 450CC HP implants create porn star look
You have a fair amount of extra skin. You will need to select a large implant to fill in the skin and create the shape that you want. I would suggest at least 600CC. Large implants placed behind the muscle can create the fullness you want and provide you with all the advantages of under the muscle placement. Remember any implant that you try on will look smaller once it is inside. So select an implant 1 size larger Good Luck
Implant Selection Process
Unfortunately, there is not a general rule of thumb or objective criteria to implant selection.
Your plastic surgeon will perform several measurements of your chest wall and breast anatomy and determine a range of implants that both fit your chest wall and reach your desired goals.
The next step is to try on this range of implants in the office with your doctor. The key to this success is showing your surgeon the body proportion you desire with a bra sizer and allowing your surgeon to guide you to the right implant. It will be much easier to communicate in implant cc's than cup size when determining the appropriate implant for you.
I wish you a safe recovery and fantastic result.
Dr. Gill
Learn more: http://www.drpaulgill.com
You will need lift
Your pictures are taken by you while holding your arms up. This is causing a mild lift to your breast and is misleading to the true position of your breast. You can get large implant to give you the volume,but be ready for lift later on. Bigger you go ,more sagging later on.
You might also like...
Pornstar breasts
You may want to go larger than that if you want to achieve a porn star look. I usually have the patient look through breast books that we have to help determine size. Also, there are different shapes/profiles and I would recommend the high profile ones for you.
Learn more: http://www.surgery-plastic.com
450cc implants may not be enough when added to what you already "bring to the party."
Thanks for including photos; they help, but are not a substitute for a direct physical examination and measurements taken at your plastic surgeon's office. As you know, your final breast volume is not dependent entirely on your implant choice, it is the implant volume PLUS your own breast volume that determine the final size. Shape is determined by your present shape in your own skin brassiere, and the position of your nipple areola complexes.
It appears as if your nipples are at or slightly above the level of your inframammary creases, and with your arms down, they appear to point forward rather than downwards. If you only wanted to go up a bit in size and yet achieve a youthful, "perky" look, a full lift plus small(er) implants would be the best recommendation. If you want full, high, and round breasts, you need to allow your surgeon to choose the volume that best "fills up" your breast skin brassiere, and this will likely be around 600cc, perhaps more. (450cc adds approximately 1 and 4/5 cups to your present size, but 600cc adds 2 and 2/5 cups to your present size.) You can help your surgeon by trying on implants in a bra and stretchy top, then allowing your surgeon to add 50-100c to the chosen volume, since implants ALWAYS look smaller when in the body (particularly under the muscle) as compared to sizing. Don't fear choosing "too big," as this additional amount is what minimizes the potential for "This is not what I chose--it's too small!"
Once the proper implant volume is chosen (sterile sizers in the operating room are a good idea in cases such as yours), then the breast pocket diameter allow choice of the appropriate implant profile (base implant width) for that volume. I suspect that moderate plus or high profile will yield the best match to your requests and anatomy. Good luck!
Learn more: http://www.mpsmn.com/html/breast-augmentation.html
These answers are for educational purposes and should not be relied upon as a substitute for medical advice you may receive from your physician. If you have a medical emergency, please call 911. These answers do not constitute or initiate a patient/doctor relationship.


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Groene at the Legislature: Teacher absences, substitutes
Mail: Southern statues symbolize suppression
More opinion
Senate: Vote no on Graham-Cassidy health care plan
Fall: Good time to spray musk thistle in rosette stage
More Ag News
The holidays are rapidly approaching and with that comes Donnas Community Christmas Dinner.
Even though Donna has moved from North Platte, her vision of a community dinner continues. This year the dinner will again be held at Harvest Christian Fellowships North West campus gymnasium, 2607 Rodeo Road, from 2-6 p.m. on Friday, Dec. 6.
Just as Donna has done for many years, we will be serving a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.
Santa is due to arrive around 5 p.m. and there will be entertainment throughout the afternoon.
This free dinner is possible only with the donations and volunteers from North Platte and the surrounding area. If you would like to contribute, either through a financial donation or with volunteer help on the day of the dinner, you may call me at 308-534-4563.
Donations may be mailed to 1501 S. Dewey; please mark your donation Donnas Dinner.
We hope that you will partner with us as we continue Donnas tradition of a Christmas dinner for our community.
By Carla Freeman, Harvest Christian Fellowship, North Platte
Flatrock Publishing, Inc.
1300 E 4th St., Suite F
North Platte, NE 69101


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A collection named India. Cringe.
I continued reading. Color Nirvana. That doesn't sound so bad.
At first, I just noticed the model before I even noticed the name of the collection. However, upon closer look, this is what I saw on the bottom part of the ad.
Curry Up Don't Be Late? Yogo-ta Get this Blue?
Oh my inner demons. Who came up with these names?
Has anyone else seen this ad aside from me? This reminded me of the post that Neela had blogged about a while back about a line of cosmetics for South Asian females (and males, I suppose). But for some reason, and please correct me if I am wrong, I don't really think this new collection is meant for the South Asian community.
What should they do? Throw slumber parties and purr to each other, "Darlin', let me try the 'Keys to my Karma' on you. It'll look faaanastic." If the collection were called China, what would the nail polish themselves be called? Mao Mao Red? Dumplings White? Even better, Fortune Cookies Yellow.
This is absurd. Let's wear culture in the form of nail polish. I've never purchased anything from OPI before and will make sure that I never will. In fact, I might just write them because I hope they're not rejoicing in their conference rooms thinking that this was a great idea.
I'm India Mood for Love. Psh. Get outta here.


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Anti-austerity strikes cause chaos across Europe
FIERCE protests have left Europe in chaos as millions of workers went on strike against cuts they claim have made the economies worse.
Trade unions in Spain, Greece, Portugal and Italy are staging a series of demonstrations on the organised European Day of Action and Solidarity with "general strikes" against austerity measures that are blamed for driving up unemployment and pushing down growth.
AIrports across the country were forced to cancel flights, with Heathrow cancelling 39 flights while passengers on an easyJet London to Athens flight faced a delay of two hours 30 minutes, while a Manchester-Athens flight was delayed for two hours 10 minutes.
This year unemployment is expected to reach record levels of 10.5 per cent in the EU and 11.3 per cent in the euro area – forecasts predict these rates will climb even further in 2013.
In Rome students pelted police with rocks in a protest over money-saving plans for the school system, while riot police arrested at least two protesters in Madrid and hit others with batons, witnesses said.
More than 60 people were arrested in Spain and 34 injured, 18 of them security officials after scuffles at picket lines and damage to storefronts.
Protesters jammed cash machines with glue and coins and plastered anti-government stickers on shop windows. Power consumption dropped 16 percent with factories idled.
"We're on strike to stop these suicidal policies," said Candido Mendez, head of Spain's second-biggest labour federation, the General Workers' Union, or UGT.
As protesters demanded an end to the "unbearable" measures, there were also angry scenes in London's centre.
On Oxford Street protesters clashed with police during a demonstration against the sacking of 28 Crossrail workers which had been planned to coincide with European strikes.


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This Canon PowerShot SX260 HS Black 12.1 MP CMOS Digital Camera is an ultra-slim camera with a powerful 20x Optical Zoom, Optical Image Stabilization and 25mm Wide-Angle lens is only the beginning of its attractions. You will see detail you never thought possible through the huge zoom and wide-angle lens, while the cameras 12.1 Megapixel High-Sensitivity CMOS Sensor and DIGIC 5 Image Processor deliver the rich, clear low-light performance that is the hallmark of Canons HS SYSTEM. 1080p Full HD video in stereo is more beautiful than ever, with new high-resolution, high-speed processing. Sophisticated advancements include improved Smart AUTO that optimizes settings for 58 predefined shooting situations, Face ID that prioritizes pre-registered faces, and GPS for tracking and recording your shooting locations. It comes with 16GB Memory Card, Extra Battery and More.
$299.00 Canon PowerShot SX260 HS 12.1 MP CMOS Digital Camera with 16GB Memory Card, Extra Battery and More – New 2012 Model
Posted 04/17/12 12:38pm inRakuten.com Deals


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AUSSIE superstar Hugh Jackman returned to Melbourne on Friday night for the Australian premiere of X-Men: Days Of Future Past a happy man.
"I tell you what, it's great to be back home and not on the X-Men diet," Jackman said.
"This City, the food is too good, I've seen my mother-in-law, everything is really great."
Jackman was all smiles on the frenetic red carpet that attracted hundreds of fans to Melbourne Central.
Although there were plenty lined up to see Jackman, there was one of his X-Men co stars who attracted the biggest cheers.
Our money would have been on Peter Dinklage, who plays Tyrion Lannister on the Game of Thrones television series.
Dinklage is one of the most recognisable actors in the world thanks to X-Men and the smash hit Game Of Thrones.
"The fans for X-Men and Game Of Thrones kind of cross pollinate, they are the best," Dinklage said.
But it turns out Chinese actor Fan Bing Bing got the biggest reaction, with the Chinese superstar greeted by fans from her home in tears at meeting their idol.
Fan is considered a fashion icon and was ranked first on Beijing News' list of the 50 Most Beautiful People in China in 2010.
She has appeared in many Chinese films including an appearance in the Chinese version of Iron Man 3, which features an extra four minutes of footage filmed specially for Chinese audiences.
The premier was sponsored by technology company TCL and it was also a charity night for the Fight Cancer Foundation, off which Jackman is an ambassador of.
The Australian actor said he was humbled by the reaction after going public revealing he had a second skin cancer cut off his face this week.
Jackman said if what had happened to him makes the public more aware, then that's a good thing.
"I think Australia knows, I don't know if you guys realise this, the American doctor told me that the fastest decreasing rate of melanoma is Australia.
"So make sure you get checked up, wear sunscreen unlike me as a kid, get check ups, that's the important thing."


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Published on
On March 11, an earthquake with a magnitude of 8.9, hit about 80 miles off the eastern coast of Japan. It was the largest in Japan's history. At 9 p.m. in Hawaii (2 a.m. EST) U.S. Army Garrison-Hawaii started posting information about the earthquake and subsequent tsunami on Facebook and Twitter. They continued to post and Tweet throughout the night. Soldiers and their families were able to find evacuation information and important updates on the social media sites managed by U.S. Army Garrison-Hawaii, 25th ID and Pacific Command. In this week's Social Media Roundup, we examine the importance of social media in the hours following the earthquake in Japan. We will also outline the steps taken by multiple Army organizations and military leaders to update and inform the public using social media.


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Frances May
Frances May Poems
- Messy Mess Mess My room is a mess, I must confess, and ...
- Parents Like dodging raindrops from summer skies, we brush ...
- Rainbow Drizzle I seldom see those like you or me that is ...
- Rain Rain on my window Rain on the ground
- Blaaaah - My 10 Second Poem Plastic grass and paper ...
- Imperfectly True Be proud of your flaws for they make you ...
- Choices Please don't clip my wings, Don't nail me to the ...
Spike Milligan, Bob Dylan, Noel Fielding, Bill Bailey and Emily Dickinson. When a shrinking machine is invented, these people will live in my jacket pocket -I will feed them biscuit crumbs and corn on the cob. I hope to infuse a spoonful of wit with a dash of profoundness and mix the contents of my disorganised mind together to make something both entertaining and thought provoking. more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Comments about Frances Maymore comments »
Joyce Halvorsen
Dear Frances: It has been many years but I haven't forgotten you or your wonderful books. I've re-read your poems in 'The Poet's Cat' many times. There is something about your deep connection to the real things of the earth and people of Wisconsin written into your poems that I too appreciate...When I read your poems I'm immediately transported by your words back where I too belong. Perhaps you recall me from years past. I'm a writer too. I doubt I would have ever published or continued my writing if it hadn't been for your encouragement. I've been invited back to Edgewood College to speak to the English classes there about writing and very much hope I can see you again or at least correspond from here time to time. I've published several books - two of which are poetry books. Once I know exactly the date and times I will be at Edgewood, I'll let you know. Perhaps we can meet again. I hope you are well and that you have continued your writing. Send me your address and I would be glad to send you one of my books as a gift for your wonderful constructive advise on writing. If you want to look up my web site and examine two of my books, go to your browser and type in Allene Joyce Ghost Dancer or Allene Joyce Seasons of the Heart For my first two published books I used a pen name which I've since abandoned - because I found most of my readers and friends could not find me in the computer under a pen name. So I've gone back to my real name of Joyce A Halvorsen. Won't you please send me a sample of your writing or where I can purchase your lastest books? Thank you with kind regards. Joyce email@example.com or phone 352-365-4395
Messy Mess Mess
My room is a mess,
I must confess,
and just like my brain
it's disordered, I guess.
There are shoes on the desk,
and socks on the floor,
books on my bed,
and in my clothes drawer.
PoemHunter.com Updates
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Super Don Flamenco!
Notes and Credits
The awesome Spanish guy from Punch Out!!, it's Don Flamenco with a cape!
I chose red not just because it matches his shorts and gloves- red's my favorite color! Also, I'm disappointed to find out that Don Flamenco is not a playable character (only Little Mac is)
Post a comment telling me what you think.
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Android has increased its lead. According to new data, roughly 79% of all smartphones shipped globally were Android based handsets. Global smartphone distribution also increased greatly, with 990 million devices being sent out in 2013. If you're keeping track, that's 782.1 million Android handsets shipped in 2013.
The overall growth was 41% year-over-year, with Q4 being the benchmark for succeess. In Q4 2012, 217 million smartphones were shipped, while Q4 2013 brought us 290.2 million smartphones. The overall number of 990 million for 2013 was an increase over the 700.1 million units shipped in 2012. Impressive numbers, but growth has slowed.
Android's growth in 2013 was 62%. While impressive, it's the slowest rate in Android's history. That trend could reverse in 2014, though, as emerging markets and mid-range devices become the new standard. With new markets opening up, worldwide growth is prime for explosion. In the US, we've likely seen the tipping point.
Android's growth can also be attributed to forked versions, of which there is a 137% surge. Much like Amazon did with their Kindle lineup, China and other markets are taking Android and using it more as a support system than a standalone OS. It's still Android, but perhaps not the Android we're familiar with.
As for the competition, Apple's iOS has a 15% market share, while Windows Phone is a distant third at 4%. Both platforms shipped a record number of devices, but are slow to gain traction on the world stage. Apple has made important inroads into China, but are less successful in other markets like India.
VIA: Strategy Analytics


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Ordering David Spade Concert TicketsHow to order tickets for David Spade:
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David Spade Tickets
A source close to David Spade said this tour will be better than any other before and the new hits are out of this world. When you are dying to catch the latest on David Spade, then trust that you can rely on us for all the latest intel. At TicketsMore.com, you dont need to worry about pre sale passwords or fan club codes to order concert tickets! With the release of the new album, David Spade could be coming back to the touring world soon! We got a source close to David Spade sources late last night to confirm that the new album will be released just after the new tour dates are released. When David Spade starts touring, you can order tickets at TicketsMore.com! We just recently verified that tickets for David Spade show go on sale next week. According to sources close to David Spade said that the new album will be amazing and out soon. Source near to David Spade say that this newest album is going to be stunning with all the collaboration on it.
David Spade Schedule
Nov 3rd, 2017
8:00 PMDennis Miller & David SpadeWinstar Casino - Thackerville, OK
Nov 17th, 2017
10:00 PMRay Romano & David SpadeTerry Fator Theatre - Mirage - Las Vegas, NV
Nov 18th, 2017
10:00 PMRay Romano & David SpadeTerry Fator Theatre - Mirage - Las Vegas, NV
Dec 1st, 2017
10:00 PMRay Romano & David SpadeTerry Fator Theatre - Mirage - Las Vegas, NV
Dec 2nd, 2017
10:00 PMRay Romano & David SpadeTerry Fator Theatre - Mirage - Las Vegas, NV
David Spade Concert Tickets
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