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Category: Classic Rock

Foxy - Various - An Hour Of Temptation (CDr)

06.02.2020 Zulusho 2 Comments

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A new evil has taken over the world of Animatronica finally decided! It's up to him and Fredbear to save the. Get it as soon as Mon, Jun Mcpedl Maps - uiia. We have a lot of different topics like nature, abstract and a lot more. So manipulative. I snort a laugh, looking down at the anchor as I shake my head. Slouching to make himself appear meek, he nods at my half-raised hand. I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake, and it seems I was correct.

Bianca and I have been through a lot together, I'd hate to get jealous after all this time. Then again, I suppose she gets plenty of compliments already, with that figure. Look out, the elf's got a silver tongue! Sadly, I'm afraid Bianca's a one-dwarf lady, even if she does enjoy a good compliment. Cass slashes her hand like a sword in front of her. Your help is Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me. I'm pleased to see you still live. I conjure a small smile of thanks for the trickster.

You didn't have to do that. I'm not gonna play by the rules in my own dream. He pauses, the gratitude catching him off-guard for a moment, but he recovers smoothly. Your gratitude is welcome, but not required. I lift an eyebrow at that. Always the sharp tongued one, the Dread Wolf. He barely notices my reaction, turning to look at Cass. Cass nods. We should get to the forward camp quickly. Solas follows. I huff a laugh and shake my head as I trundle on behind them, hopping over the low, broken down wall lightly.

I didn't really expect them to let me lead, but just as it is in the game, they step to the side and let me take point. Staff still in hand, I shrug and head down into the small valley, keeping a mental tally of the demons we'll face. An elite shade, a regular one, and two wraiths. I think. This is going to be a long day. But hey, more practice with this weird-ass magic of mine! That'll be helpful with the pain in the ass pride demon fight at the Breach. I won't bore you with the details, But suffice it to say, even with a few mishaps on my part, we made it alive to the temple.

Not that it really matters, but still. I sigh and slowly sit up, rubbing my hand over my face and stifling a yawn. I feel my bed jostling from underneath, and hear my dog flailing against the floor to squeeze her sausage body out from under my bed. She comes around and looks at me with great anticipation, and I can just hear the thoughts running through her head as she looks at me. I can go sniff the entire yard and take forever to pick a poop spot? Go play now? I groan at her and get out of bed slowly, ignoring her romping around my legs and pulling my clothes on, while groping at my PC's mouse to wake it up.

I enter the passcode to unlock it, then pull the chair out and sit gracelessly, letting my eyes adjust to the brightness of the screen as I scratch my suddenly rather itchy palm. That's where I'll send Fen'da'len Lavellan next. I check my email, and see salesman has posted a new chapter of 'Doughnut Rebel'. I immediately go to read, knowing it'll be a good start to my 'morning'. She doesn't disappoint. My palm still itches. Definitely coffee first. If you enjoy the story or this chapter in particular, please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts!

See the end of the chapter for more notes. Fuck you, you stupid, taunting, blinking atrocity. Time for a distraction. None of them sound remotely interesting. I check my email in frustration- nothing new. Not that there aren't several stories I desperately need to catch up on at some point I just haven't felt like it lately.

Idly, my mind traces back to the dream I'd had the previous night. So strange, dreaming in Thedas. Then again, I suppose it's not that strange, I do write multiple fan fics for the game, after all.

And it's my current obsession. Being a high-functioning autistic person does tend to lend itself to those lovely little obsessions quite well. There's not much I don't know about the damn game series, especially the latest release. Well, aside from the DLC's of said release.

Honestly, neither of them interest me, so far as I've seen. So, I haven't bothered buying them. Avvar, first Inquisitor, yeah cool, whatever blah blah blah. Deep roads? The nug king easter egg is cute, but not cute enough for fifteen bucks, sorry. You bet your ass. Well, preferably it and elvhen history in general will be the focus of DA4 instead, if Bioware has any sense. In any case, until that day comes, I'm stuck playing one of ten Inquisitors that I have save games for. No, wait, eleven now, with Fenlamea.

I take a final sip of the last dregs of my coffee, and sigh, clicking my mouse over to bring up my ridiculously huge Three gigabytes, and proud of it, damn it. DAI screenshot folder. Flipping through my elven Inquisitors, I wonder which one my dream Herald self looked like, if any of them.

It'd be nice if I'd looked like Fenlamea. I managed to make her rather pretty. Black hair in a modded pixie cut, ocean-at-sunset-colored eyes, tan skin.

Well-placed, faded scars, tracing the pale branches of Mythal's vallaslin as they gently curve up her brow. Tasteful makeup, that accentuates her features properly.

It would indeed be very nice to have looked like her. I'll probably never know now, regardless. Dreams like that one rarely ever repeat, or continue for me. While I can control the course of whatever dream I'm having, while I'm in it, I cannot choose the dream. I wish I could. I'd never have another horrifying nightmare again, if I could choose not to. Sadly, as much as our personalities may perfectly align, I do not have Fen'harel's ability to manipulate the 'Fade'.

Lucid dreaming is as close as I get. My dog begins her pacing for the day, walking back and forth on a warpath across my room, going under my chair both ways, as always. She sits next to me, looking up at me expectantly. I look back at her. She wags furiously and edges closer to me, nudging her freezing cold nose under the bare skin of my forearm. I jerk away from the cold on instinct, and rub the chilled snot off on my shirt, trying to use friction to warm the spot.

Stepping stool? From whence did this sudden blockage in my writing come? Wherever it originated, it needs to go right the hell back to base. I've got stories to write. I start typing, because starting is usually half the battle anyway, when suddenly, my palm begins to itch again.

It had shut up after a bit of scratching earlier, but now, it's itching with the fury of Coryphytits when he doesn't get his way. Screw it, time to take my hairbrush to it.

When fingernails don't do the job, a hairbrush usually does. Snagging said hairbrush from behind my monitor, I apply the bristles to my palm liberally for a few moments. Finally, the annoyance subsides enough to ignore it.

Sighing in relief, I set my hairbrush back in its spot, crack my knuckles, and get back to work. I did a thing! Maybe I have. I'm talking to a dog, after all. But I swear she knows english half the time.

I look back up at my screen and check the word count. Three thousand isn't terrible. Oo, Adamant. Oh wow. Ok that's cool. Ahh, good chapter. Yes, I'm a tease, go read it yourself.

It's worth it. I close out the tab with a smile, and go back to the second desktop to look at what I've written. While I'm reading, I absently scratch at my palm, because yet again, it's itching. I huff a sigh of frustration at this fact, wondering if a mosquito got to me.

Damn bugs. I look at it in annoyance, only to realize I've somehow managed to scratch it almost raw in the time since I've woken up. The hell? I think back to while I was writing, and remember scratching at it quite fiercely a few times to make it shut up. I decide with a grimace to make a concerted effort to avoid scratching it any more. The last thing I need is an open wound.

Shaking my head, I read the last bit of what I've written, and take a deep, even breath, setting my fingers to the keys of my keyboard to continue the story. Yes, I'm skipping it because I don't want to bore you to death- any more than I have already I stifle a yawn and crawl into bed, having already brushed my teeth and showered and de-robed for the night. Flopping down onto my pillow and curling my arm under it, I tuck myself in, trying to get comfortable.

I feel the bed jostling, hear the thumping of my dog's limbs and the ripping sound of her claws scraping the carpet, as she wriggles her way out from under my bed. I hear her make her way around to the side of the bed I'm facing, and I roll my eyes, sighing. I flip the covers back and smack the bed, inviting her up for her nightly five minutes in my bed. Her choice, not mine. My dog is almost as weird as I am. She settles down and I toss the blanket back over her, trying once again to get comfortable.

I'm about to drift off, when -oh, there she goes- she jumps off the bed, returning to her troll dungeon under my bed.

I snort softly and finally drift off to sleep. This time, there is no floating, or swirling miasma of nothingness. No, this time, it's a blindingly green flash of light that nearly jolts me from my sleep.

The vision ends, and I have the beginnings of a massive migraine. Visions are a lot less pleasant in 'reality' than in the stories. They fucking hurt. Naturally, this is exactly when Cass decides to make it worse by yelling at me. Who attacked? The Divine, was she- was this vision true?

What are we seeing? I grit my teeth against the pain her demands are causing my head, rubbing my temples to attempt soothing the growing headache. I let my hands drop to my sides before I answer her, a growl on my voice as I start, "How many times must I say that I don't remember anything before today, before you realize it must be true?

I don't even know my own name; how would I know the answer to this?! She seems slightly taken aback by my response, but before she can formulate anything to say to that, Solas speaks up. I believe that with the mark, it can be opened, then sealed properly, and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.

I sigh heavily as I watch several soldiers and scouts ready themselves. Cass shares a nodding moment with a random archer who is mysteriously never seen again. Then, she nods at me. Welp, time to summon a pride demon.

I step up to the rift and lift my anchored hand up, calling the wolf's magic up and spitting it out onto the crystallized surface of the closed rift.

Good to know it's still working, I guess. The shards covering the rift shatter, and a flash of viridian zaps the -holy fuck that's huge- pride demon behind us. I back up and ready my staff as the spirit-turned-pissed-off-asshole roars and laughs, putting his guard up to full.

Well, at least, I'm guessing that's what it's doing. There's no health bars in 'reality', unfortunately. Bad timing, Cass. I'm keeping an eye on the rift. The moment it closes again, I'm opening that sucker. I've played this part way too many times to forget how it goes, damn it.

Cass is beating the demon in the shins with her shield, Varric is trying to wedge a bolt or two up its ass, and Solas is flinging ice at it as fast as he can.

I'll have to talk to him about how to do all that fancy staff twirling, later. There we go! The rift has closed and I can actually do something useful! Up goes my marked hand, and a surge of ancient magics later, it's open again. The bigass demon doesn't seem so bigass now, all huffing and puffing on its knees and shit.

I cast that awesome god-fist thing from earlier, right on its head. Just as the spell hits, the demon's head jerks down sharply, and it seems to be straining under the pressure.

Damn, what I wouldn't give for a health bar, to see how much damage that actually did. No more time for that, though, as I notice the two shades exiting the rift, just before it closes again. Naturally, they head straight for me. Because that makes perfect sense. The nearest one is about to bear down on me with its claws, and I raise my staff to block it, just as I feel a strange sensation slide over my skin. At the same time, I see a very soft green shimmer follow the feeling over me.

The demon's claw make it past my pitiful blocking attempt, but instead of getting ripped to shreds, there's only the slightest pressure, like a soft caress. The realization dawns, rather slowly for me: it's a barrier. Makes sense. Thanks Solas! At least, I assume it's him. I sure as hell don't know how to do that. Well, time to kill these idiots then. Crushing prison dispatches the first one, and some rubble smacking weakens the second enough for me to beat the fuck out of its face until it goes down.

Works for me. I'm gonna be sore as shit in a few days. Or, whenever I 'wake up'. With a glance up to the rift to check if it's ready for another bout, I send some more rubble at the pride demon, trying to avoid any of it falling on the combatants below.

I manage not to let it fall on anyone, but Solas does trip over it as he walks backwards to get some distance between him and the demon. Well, wolf, that's what you get for trying to mage tank!

I shake my head and look back up at the rift. Time to open again. Varric shoots the next stray shade through the eye, and Solas freezes the second one. I happily toss the largest chunk of debris I can find on short notice at it, shattering it into little pieces. With a nod to Solas, I turn my attention - and hand - to the rift, opening it one last time. Just as it bursts open, I feel the barrier on me go down.

Fortunately, nothing's trying to bash my face in at the moment, so it's not a big deal. I do the god-fist move on the bigass again, pouring a bit more power into it than usual.

It tumbles to the ground, and it's gotta be close to death, because I can see its arms trembling as it starts to get back up. Time for a finishing move, then. I aim my staff at it, because this spell totally drained me last time, and fuck that.

I imagine a giant fist around that huge ass mofo, and visualize it crushing the demon, like I'd crushed that mini boulder earlier. I'm told later - by Varric, naturally - that the sight of a demon that big, crumpling in on itself, was one for the history books.

But I wouldn't know, because I'd closed my eyes in concentration by this point. Also, because I never tried this again on anything that humongous. Not a good idea at all , in hindsight. But hey, at least it looked cool. By the time I released the spell, it wasn't because I chose to, but because I didn't have a choice.

The thread of my mana that pulls energy from the Fade very nearly snaps, and I end up on my hands and knees, vision fading in and out. I distantly hear someone calling out to me - though they only know me as 'prisoner' - but I can't even concentrate enough to tell who it is. I fumble as I feel for my right pocket, the unfamiliar outfit causing me no end of problems, as I try to find the damn slip of open fabric.

Cass said only use the potions if I absolutely need them, and I desperately need that lyrium vial, in that damn pocket that I still can't find. A faint pressure on the right side of my hip, then a song that clings to my skin as I make out the faint glow of blue before my face. I reach for the glow and totally miss it, but I feel the cool glass pressed into my hand, and I sink to my haunches, tilting my head and the glass back in unison. Oh, sweet, sweet relief, oh shit I needed that. Lyrium buzz!

Okay, I'm awake now. My senses return to me in a rush, sharpening everything around me. I look to my right to see Solas kneeling next to me, raw concern bared on his features for one moment, hidden the next. Smart wolf knew what I needed. Good to know. At first, I think he's going to chew me out for being so reckless, but instead, he purses his lips - mmm those lips - and jerks his shiny head back toward the rift.

I nod and stand, moving in range of the gaping hole in the veil, and flinging my mark's power at it. It sputters petulantly, resisting the closure. I push harder, feeling for the edges, binding them together slowly and tightly, until there is nothing left to bind.

I yank my fist back to seal it, and it works! It's sealed! I watch the ball of energy shoot up the tether to the Breach itself, and brace as much as I can for the impact that I know is coming I'm shoved utterly off my feet by the resulting shockwave, my head smacking against some of the rubble I'd tossed at the pride demon.

Lights out. I figure at this point, I'll wake up. I mean, it seems like a reasonable point to do so. But no. Not a chance. You know how in the game, you just wake up in your little house at Haven? Well, what they skip in the game, is what happens in all the little notes you find scattered around that Adan writes, about the days you're knocked out. Yeah, I didn't get to skip that.

Honestly, I like this version better. I'm falling. Well, okay, my body isn't, but my mind sure as hell is. Falling, falling, falling, down into the green sky. I can see the ground, but it's still far away yet, and doesn't seem to be getting any closer, actually. But I'm still falling. What the fuck, Fade? Well, this is annoying. I can barely catch my breath for the wind whipping past me, but I make a valiant effort anyway, because it feels like my head's about to explode if I don't get some air.

In it goes, and a burst of relief flows through my body, almost as strong as the lyrium zinging through my veins. Create an account. Remember me. Facebook VKontakte Google. November 27th, , pm. Ah, everything in this apartment is so quiet lately! You think I would have gotten used to it, but it is quite the contrary. I have gotten to see Neji and Tenten as of late, which is always a wonderful occassion, of course!

But I still have heard no word from or about Gai-sensei. It s truly bizarre not being able to see him when I want. And, as unyouthful as it sounds, it can get kind of Still, life is going well! I just have not been I suppose that is to be expected if one lives alone, but Mulling over things that do not need to be thought about.

The original inhabitants, like the Swahili to their south, are of mixed Arab and Bantu African heritage, and speak a Bantu language called Chimina. Somalis from various other areas, speaking standard Somali and several dialects of it, also live in Baraawe. The musicians heard here play regularly together in various combinations.

2 thought on “Foxy - Various - An Hour Of Temptation (CDr)”

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