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Beloved Shadow
****At Henneth Annûn****
"You may sit," said King Mardil II.
A dozen or so rough and tired looking Gondorians slumped into chairs surrounding a crude wooden table that nearly filled the small side chamber. Mardil, seated at the head, signaled to a waiting servant and soon the table was set with food and drink.
After the men had finished eating, Mardil rose and addressed them. "You have all performed your tasks admirably. When this crisis is passed and the need for secrecy is gone, your names will be known and honored throughout Gondor."
The men smiled grimly in acknowledgement. The man at the opposite end of the table rose and bowed to Mardil, and answered, "We thank you for your words, Lord. But know that you would have our service without promise of glory to come, or even the silver pieces that you provide as compensation for our efforts. The cause itself is worthy of all toil, and it is honor enough to play a part in ridding Gondor of injustice and evil."
The other men raised their glasses and let out a hearty "Aye!" and drank. Mardil nodded to the speaker. "You and the men of your house are true Gondorians, Bergil III. A happy day it was that King Elessar released Beregond from his service to be a blessing to the House of Stewards."
At that moment a messenger entered, bowed, and spoke to Mardil. "Your father sends his greetings and wishes to inform you that your wife and son are in good health. He also requests a word on the status of the plan."
"You may tell my father that all but one of my team of smugglers has returned. The one who was captured was apprehended entering Mordor, but was caught with nothing but the clothes on his back. He is loyal, and will not utter a word of our plan. And even if he does, it is too late for Roggie, the Blue Istari, or anyone else to stop us now. Operation Vaccine is nearly complete!" declared Mardil.
The messenger bowed again and exited the chamber.
"How soon will the final phase begin, Lord?" asked Bergil.
"When you and those under your command complete your final run into Mordor, I will announce a date for the... procedure," answered Mardil. "All the preparations are made. You have the final list, don't you?" Bergil nodded. "How long do you think this smuggling run will take? Six days?"
"That would be my estimate, sir," answered Bergil.
"Good," said Mardil, smiling in approval. "Go ahead and rest for the remainder of the day. My men will see that you have all the equipment and provender you need for the journey. You leave with the rising of the sun."
Last edited by the phantom; 05-01-2007 at 10:38 PM.
Pile O'Bones
Join Date: Oct 2004
Posts: 14
Roggie was less than happy to be called from his steam sauna (originally a shower) to interrogate a political prisoner. He was willing to stake his power on the fact that he'd initially had others hired to do such things. However with Alli gone, the palace in regular motion, war on the brink...
He grumbled as he stalked into the dungeons.
"Man of Gondor, why are you in my country?" The prisoner did not respond, choosing rather to stare at the floor.
One of Roggie's representatives met his lord's eyes and spoke. "He carries nothing but that which is on his back, and this, m'lord."
He handed Roggie the spy's weapon, a beautifully crafted sword. Roggie inspected it with an eye for detail and spoke angrily. "What is your name, Ranger, and what is your business?"
The man did not speak.
Roggie demanded more harshly, leaning in to allow his own heat to draw sweat from the prisoner's brow. The man's discomfort was obvious. Roggie let a small ball of flame kindle within him, threatening. The man's eyes widened, but he did not speak. Even afraid, he was calm.
Roggie scorched the floor around his feet and the man cried out, "No!"
Roggie gestured violently, knocking his enemy's spy to the floor.
"Strip him," he said impatiently, "and find out what of his pretty little toes so delights him."
Roggie's guards were more than glad to find work, having been out of it so long. With Alli gone, their jobs had been to shuffle papers and look busy. One spoke again, hesitantly. "My lord, he said before you came, 'Rest assured that neither I nor my Lord wish to harm you or Mordorian citizens, but I cannot name my errand.' That is when we came for you. You know we would never normally bother you with such trifles..."
The Lord of Mordor grumbled, kindling slightly. He watched impatiently as the man's boots were removed. The man did not struggle, though he might have.
"My Lord!" cried one searcher, "he carries papers!"
Roggie did not touch them for fear of igniting them, but chose rather for the man who had found them to list their contents. If Gondor knew, so could his own men... whatever the contents.
"There is... my lord..." The man hesitated. Roggie growled and he continued. The Ranger spy watched the floor. "They are... drawings... and descriptions."
"Of what, minion? The palace? The casino? The countryside? Is Mardil trying to infiltrate? TELL ME!"
"They are, my revered lord... of a toaster, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Chuck Norris."
They questioned the Ranger, yet he refused to divulge his secret, though his name was given almost freely.
"Bergil," Roggie growled. "I have heard of you in my court."
After ordering Bergil to the dungeons for a prolonged period of uncertain incarceration with inattentive guards and less attentive cooks, Roggie disappeared to his chambers to mull.
Upon his desk he found a neatly printed letter, possibly from Lola, though it was uncertain. He had not seen her in a rather long time and had never quite learned to differentiate between her writing and anybody else's.
The sounds of his anger could be heard throughout the palace after he read that Mardil II had declared a Gondorian holiday for the following day, and that every person in the kingdom of Gondor was to travel to the nearest population center.
Roggie feared some dire stroke, but could not think what Mardil could possibly be hoping to achieve.
This post ended, consequently, on an uncertain note, with a smoking King of Mordor fuming in many literal ways within his study.
Dead Serious
"Hyarmenwë! Lord Hyarmenwë!"
The old Gondorian heard his name being called, and stumbled slightly in his flight. Elrogorn grabbed his arm, and hauled him back to his feet before he could even begin hitting the ground.
"Do not listen!" said Elrogorn in a hiss, "it is a siren!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" said Maika, "that sounded nothing like a police car or ambulance."
"No, it sounded like Angawen," said Hyarmenwë.
"The snotty lady Gondorian?" said Maika.
"The same," said Hyarmenwë with a half-frown. "Angawen!" he shouted into the ever-darkening graveyard, "is that you?"
"Lord Hyarmenwë," pressed Elrogorn, "we really shouldn't pause."
"Right," said Maika. "If we're going to go through with foolishly making for the gates, let's get it over with."
Beloved Shadow
Mardil II looked up from his desk as his father, Denethor IV, entered the room. "We've been expecting you to join us for some time, son," said Denethor. "Are you almost finished? The entire household is ready to join the holiday throng."
"Yes, yes... I'm just finishing my instructions to Bregor and Gundor. They'll be leaving in the morning." Mardil dipped his quill into a bottle of ink and continued writing.
Denethor sighed and sat down across from Mardil. "So, you still think you can work with him?"
Denethor shook his head. "He's a balrog, Mardil. A BALROG! Nothing good has ever come from his kind. He can't be trusted. You ought- "
"We've been through this before," interjected Mardil. "My mind hasn't changed."
"You say he's not wholly evil, Mardil, but the fact remains that he is moody, aggressive, unreasonable, and is easily upset," argued Denethor. "I'm telling you, you can't deal with someone like that."
Mardil laid his quill aside, pushed his chair back, and rose to his feet. "You forgot one thing, father- Alli. She can deal with Roggie, and talk sense into him when no one else can. All I have to do is make her see the benefits of cooperation, and she will see that Roggie complies for his own good as well as hers."
"Oh, sure, Alli will be great help until the day that, in a fit of rage, Roggie squashes her and fries her to a crisp," retorted Denethor.
"That's never going to happen!" returned Mardil. "I've seen them together. Roggie would never hurt her. Maybe others, but not her."
Denethor stood, walked around the table, and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. "So, you truly believe in Alli's ability to influence Roggie enough to risk the lives of your two most loyal servants?"
"Yes," answered Mardil without hesitation. "And surely my willingness to entrust Roggie with the lives of my men will convince him further that I wish to work with him, and not against him."
Denethor squeezed Mardil's shoulders and smiled. "You are firm in your beliefs- just the way a King should be."
All across the kingdom, in town after town, the residents of Gondor gazed in wonder at drawings and descriptions of anachronisms of all shapes and sizes. The collection of anachronisms was huge- the result of many many smuggling runs by Bergil and company. The rest of the collection was furnished by King Mardil himself, who had spent countless days and nights writing about the various anachronisms he saw during his stay in Mordor.
Slowly and surely, the entire population of Gondor was being vaccinated against the weakening dweomer. For, as Anakron had told Mardil behind closed doors, once an anachronism becomes commonly known in the real and present world, it loses its anachronistic power.
New assignments to Mordor fell to almost nothing overnight. The evil curse of the Blue Wizards was being undone. Roggie's realm was no longer growing.
Last edited by the phantom; 05-17-2007 at 01:52 PM.
Alive without breath
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla
Posts: 6,153
Smilog shivered and cowered below a tombstone. He looked at his blooded hands, shaking uncontrollably. He fought the tears that were welling in his eyes but he could not stop it. A thin hand gripped his shoulder and he yelped.
"Come along, old bean," said a kindly voice, "what's the matter with you?" it was The Barrow Wight and his sword was now deep red. Smilog avoided the Dead man's eyes and picked up his axe again.
"I've never killed anything before," he said slowly, "I felt so horrid." At that moment a great snarling werewolf leaped at them and Smilog immediately swung his axe wildly, not seeming to care that he was inches away from decapitating The Barrow Wight. The beast fell to the ground and made no further sound. Smilog fell to his knees, "What am I doing?" he cried.
"Courage," said The Wight, "you must have courage. There is nothing for it." he gripped the Dwarf by the arm and lifted him up. The whole graveyard was filled with the enemy and all seemed to be going wrong. The screams of the Mordorians as they were slaughtered filled Smilog's ears and he looked towards the south where he saw his father doing battle with a Wereduck. At last his nerves gave way to a feeling of duty. He leaped into the battle and did great deeds... so he said.
Tollin, with a fit of rage upon him, swung his morning scar left and right. He had come to the very end of the Were army. Behind him only the blackness of Mordor, before him the sea of foes. Sweeping were creatures aside like dead leaves on the forest floor. Even the very largest could not stand before him, his eyes were like fire and his face was terrible to behold. The Barrow Wight saw him as he decapitated a Werewolf. Thinking that next to Tollin would probably be the best bet for safest, he made his way towards the Minotaur, slashing as he went.
Pallando's face was set like stone. He could see that all was going well. If they could defeat this minotaur resistance before the dwarves arrived, then his victory would be assured. But he looked to where Tollin was, and saw that he would to great damage to his plans if not dealt with. None could get close to him. With a wide grin, Pallando poked Alatar and then pointed at the Minotaur. The Brown Wizard nodded and took out his bow.
With a suddenness that made some Were creatures step back, Tollin stopped his slaughter. The Barrow Wight rushed over to see what was happening, but two Mordorians stopped him. A long blue arrow stuck out from Tollin's chest. It burned him and was buried deep. He raised his Morning Star and swooped it across the line of foes that now approached, but another arrow soon hit him. Falling to his knees, Tollin cried aloud. The Were Creatures stepped back and whimpered slightly as he took up his weapon and killed three more.
A third and a fourth arrow soon followed. Tollin fell to the ground at the last and did no more. Satisfied, Allatar gave no more thought to him and turned his attentions to the rest of the battle. The Barrow Wight, on the other hand, dashed to Tollin's side and saw that he yet lived.
"Come on, old chap," he sniffed, "stiff upper lip, wot-wot?" Tollin smiled vaguely and looked up at the sky.
"Alas," he said, "this is my end, I fear."
"Don't say that," mumbled The Barrow Wight, "Let me get rid of those arrows and perhaps I'll find that Elempi chap."
"It's too late," Tollin sighed, "the arrows are poisoned anyway. My mind is going, I can feel it. Farewell, you old Wight. Do not vanish in the sunlight. Be sure to haunt your old barrow for many years. As for me, I go to a long rest. At the least, I have not spent my last moments in that blasted labyrinttthhhh. If only that Dwarf were here, I could thank him properly. Farewell, my friend, farewell"
Tollin smiled and breathed his last.
Riveting Ribbiter
Join Date: May 2005
Location: Assigned to Mordor
Posts: 1,795
The winds of change continued to blow, aided by the very large fans some of the Were-creatures had chosen to bring to the battle. Panakeia found the winds most annoying, as no matter which way she turned, her hair ended up in her eyes, sending her arrows (conveniently abandoned by an unnamed archer, who, mid-battle, had been recruited for the Mordorian Ollimpic Archery Team and so left the fighting behind) wild.
"Oww!" Luggie cried. Panakeia's arrow whizzed through his/her handkerchief and dragged the fabric betwixt its/their fingers. "You gave me a hankie-burn."
"Sorry." She shot another arrow in the air, but where it landed, she knew not where. Up and up it went into the sky, until it could be seen no longer. Most likely, it did not land in the side of an enemy.*
The Were-creatures pressed in from all sides. Panakeia was nearly out of arrows. What did it matter anyway? Outnumbered as they were, they were doomed. She ducked behind a tombstone with Elempí.
"What can we do? We're trapped and practically unarmed. Is this really the end?"
*It was later determined by the use of highly sophisticated and anakronistic physics equations that Panakeia's arrow was launched at an angle of exactly 72.6583 degrees from the graveyard surface with an initial velocity of 23.6 meters per second. Therefore, it should have followed the usual laws of projectile motion and landed 32.8 meters away from its starting point in Panakeia's borrowed bow after 4.658 seconds of travel. This, of course, does not account for air resistance, which was greater than usual on this day due to the effect of the winds of change.
No arrow was found in that location, but it is said that a mysterious arrow landed that day in a tiny Mordorian village far from the battle, and became the inspiration for a collection of love poetry. Was it the same arrow? To this day, the answer is not known.
Itinerant Songster
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,051
Elempi knew that he no longer had the powers of Anakron, yet he had healed Smilog. It didn't make sense. How could it have happened? Had Smilog somehow healed himself? Did he have perhaps an accelerated recontitution of which he himself was unaware? Or did this have something to do with Illamatar? The moment the thought of Illamatar came into his mind, his hair folicles (those that remained) started tingling. Maybe it really was Illamatar!
Well, it was good information, if it were true, to keep in his hip pocket, as it were, for later. In the meantime, there were missiles of various kinds flying hither and yon, Panakeia loved him, and Luggie was being an ayessess yet again, and the blue wizards were brown, or was it purple? And planes flying high in the sky were sending out flares spelling strange words in the sky: "Mardil's Anti-Anakronism Innoculations - Free for the Taking" It felt like Arm-a-gettin'. So Elempi whipped out his #2 pencil - and flourished it in the air all around him as if it were a real sword. Too bad it didn't do him any good. Instead, it caught the attention of one of the Wizards, and a skein of power came at him just as his pencil was beginning a four beat measure to the tune of The Eighteen Twelve Overture playing in his mind. The skein made contact with the pencil, and .....
..... the skein scattered. Elempi stared at the pencil, unchanged.
"Hmm, do you suppose lead or graphite is proof against spells cast by rebellious Istari?"
"Duck!" cried Panakeia from not far away, and Elempi did so.
"No!" cried Panakeia again. "Duck at 3 o'clock!"
"Oh, that kind of duck," Elempi commented, but was tackled to the ground by said Duck before he could do a thing. Duck proceeded to beat on Elempi with its bill, armed as it was with rather long, dripping canines. Elempi's face screwed up in disgust at the thought of a teeth-equipped duck even as the stuffing was being beaten out of him.
"Watch out for the glasses!" Elempi cried.
"Oh, sorry," said the duck, and proceeded to smash up his face but studiously avoiding his glasses.
"Much thanks," said Elempi through puffing lips. He wondered if Luggie might get his manhood back in time to save him. Then he passed out.
Last edited by littlemanpoet; 05-24-2007 at 05:37 PM.
Alive without breath
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla
Posts: 6,153
The dead body of Tollin lay, as most dead bodies do, still. Most dead bodies, mind you. One dead body was stood up besides him with a sword drawn, beating off the approaches of several were creatures. The Barrow Wight swung his golden sword this way and that, slicing heads, arms and faces wherever he saw them. But as he laughed in the midst of battle, he heard the neighing of a horse. To his horror, a great purple rider drew up before him, holding aloft a mighty sword.
The Farsegul laughed and pulled back its hood, yet there was no head, only a small potato floating where a brain should probably have been. Above the potato was a crown seemingly made of lettuce. It laughed again and said in a voice cold and terrible, "Old fool! Do you not know death when you see it?"
"Well, actually-" began the wight,
"Die now and curse in vain! This is my hour!" The sword of the Farsegul burst into flame and its horse let forth a bellow. The flames stopped and the Purple Rider coughed, "Sorry about that," he admitted, "the horse has been eating too many peas. It's got a bit of wind, you see. But anyway, you will die!"
The Pink horse was spurred at the Barrow Wight, but he leaped aside just in time and sliced the head from the hideously dressed creature. Up from the ruin rose the purple figure, its sword in hand and its potato a flame. "You!" he cried, "You have killed my steed!"
"I know," answered the Barrow Wight, "cutting off heads usually does the trick."
"Don't be fascias," snapped the Farsegul, "I am the lord of the purple Riders. The Wizard Emperor, I am. Witch King had been taken apparently." Thus their swords met in battle and for a time, the Barrow Wight was beaten back, and forced to his knees by the strength of the creature. The sword was pointed at the neck of The Barrow Wight, "Dead man," cried the Rider, "Only by a dead sword canst thou die. So Die now, be you living or dead." He raised the blade to strike, but he stopped.
Horns! Horns on the hills! The Dwarves had arrived!
The skies were filled with strange signs and messages and it was not long before Smilog's head began to swim. Khuz was laughing in the heat of battle, hewing off feet and heads when they came low enough. Smilog felt sick. So much blood. So many screams. He had got into diplomacy to avoid this sort of thing and now he was in the thick of the thing he had most feared. Chopping another Werewolf in half he cried aloud, "How long will this night endure?"
"About five hours," said a voice, "Fear not, oh Smilog, son of Khuz, the time is coming when you must face great perils."
"No thanks," he replied, "great pearls, now that's another matter."
"Listen to me," the voice grew louder, "not for nought didst thou find thy way to being assigned to Mordor. Indeed, hast thou not seen the signs in the sky? The Wizard's fall is near."
"Now, do you mean 'wizard's' plural or singular?" asked Smilog as another Were duck fell to his axe, "because there are a bleeding lot of wizards around and I for one would-" He stopped and listened. The horns were heard on the winds. The Dwarves were near! The Dwarven host was here!
Eidolon of a Took
Join Date: Sep 2002
Location: my own private fantasy world
Posts: 3,561
Upon entering the graveyard, Skittles tripped and fell into an open grave.
She landed facedown upon a fresh corpse, which was somewhat unnerving. The body was wrapped in cloth, but a stench still clung to the obscured figure. She struggled free and stood up, panting. "Hissyfit!" she cried. "Hissyfit! I've fallen!"
In a few minutes, the triangular face of her trusty friend appeared at the edge of the rectangular patch of sky. "Apparently," Hissyfit remarked dryly.
"The grave is too deep to climb out," Skittle complained. "I need help."
Hissyfit yawned. "I don't have opposable thumbs, I don't see what you expect me to do."
"Find someone who does!"
"Oh very well," Hissyfit sighed, looking very put out. Her face disappeared, and Skittles settled down to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
For a time, Skittles amused herself by forming shapes out of the damp, freshly churned earth. Then that became boring, and she peeked inside the wrapping to look at the corpse, which looked about as good as it smelled. She let her imagination wander, envisioning various ways to kill Hissyfit. The stench became more and more overwhelming, and darkness took her. The stars wheeled overhead, and every minute was as long as a life age of the earth.
Eventually, she began to see the folly in waiting. For a cat. So she mustered all the strength in her pale arms and dug her hands into the loamy walls of her prison. For a moment or two it seemed as if she would be able to scale said walls, but then it came loose in her hands and she fell back. Cursing, she stood and brushed herself off.
A wereduck flew overheard, blood dripping from its beak, and Skittles gaped upwards. New resolve struck her, and she screamed like a madwoman (fittingly) as she again attempted to claw her way to freedom.
Several more times she flung herself at the walls, only for the dirt to tumble down around her. This gave Skittle an idea, for she was both insane and resourceful. She unwrapped the body and wrenched one arm from its decaying socket. It made a rather disgusting squelchy noise, but Skittles had no time to waste on squeamishness. She began to hack away at the dirt with the exposed humerus, causing a cascade of falling earth to accumulate around her.
Eventually, after an immeasureable time spent digging with her macabre tool, Skittles succeeded in widening the grave and knocking down enough dirt to raise her towards the surface. She dropped the arm and scrambled out of the grave.
Hissyfit lay nearby, curled up on a fleece blanket, purring in her sleep.
Skittles said something to her, which I cannot repeat, but roughly translated, meant, "What are you doing?"
Hissyfit awoke and yawned. "Oh, so sorry," she said. "Someone just happened to leave that blanket lying there and I was done for."
"Argh!" Skittles cried, but made no move to act on her previous fantasies. She could not harm her somewhat-faithful companion, as much as she might wish to.
She spat mud out of her mouth and wiped her face, then, drawing forth a switchblade, went to look for someone to punish.
She came across an army of Orcs, and slaughtered them. Then she lay waste to a flock of wereducks. A pack of werewolves sought to eat her, and she left them in various stages of bloodied ruin. She met a terrifying creature with a bouquet of flowers for a head, and sprayed it with industrial strength weedkiller. Insert whatever other foes were lurking about the graveyard, and imagine a suitable fate for them [here].
Eventually, exhausted, she lay down her weapons, and fell asleep underneath a tombstone in the likeness of the Eiffel Tower. She had many dreams as she slumbered there; one in which she floated on a sea of poppies, one in which Tom Felton professed his undying love for her whilst juggling flaming accordians, and one in which a wheel of cheese came to life and tried to eat her.
Last edited by Diamond18; 06-16-2007 at 06:31 PM.
La Belle Dame sans Merci
Alli caught sight of Skittles through the battle and from then on, her almost reliable friend had her undivided attention. A mistake had not been made when Roggie declared the woman warlordess, for she was fully more than capable of rendering once terrifying armies to states much worse than death. Alli watched bloody piles of former bad guys whimpering throughout the graveyard as Skittles passed them by, with Hissyfit daintily avoiding getting blood on her paws.
Not very long later, Alli saw Skittle fall down upon a grave and rushed to her aid, all enemies between them having been conveniently hacked and slashed. Alli knelt beside her and wiped away blood (which turned out not to belong to Skittles) and found herself at knife point.
"Skittles, it's me, Alli. Please don't flick the blade."
"How do I know," Skittles said accusingly, "that you are not just another werecreature cleverly disguised to look like Alli?"
"Because... um... you cat likes me?"
And true enough, Hissyfit was twining about Alli in an affectionate and distinctly undignified manner. Alli had always been this way with cats, really, and she was happy to know that Hissyfit was no exception. Until Skittles spoke again.
"Yes, well... Hissyfit is probably now WereHissyfit and is just cosseting up to her own kind." Skittles moved a finger threateningly over the switch of the blade and Alli refused to lose her immense cool by looking nervous.
"Come off it, Skit, I could tell you your life story if you wanted to. I'm the one who bliddy hired you for this job and let me tell you it's pretty you got us out of that battle. Why weren't you here sooner? I mean, now that you've killed all the bad guys, we can end the climactic battle scene and everyone can write their denouements so we can finish this story once and for all!"
"You woke me up." Skittles muttered obtusely.
"Like you were really sleeping when I got here." Alli shot back.
"I was dreaming of cheese."
"I'll get you a big brick of the stuff later, just come on, will you? The Phantom's got some concluding to do with Roggie before we can write 'El Fin' and forget this adventure ever really happened."
"You employ ghosts!?" The knife was again at Alli's throat.
"No... I mean..."
"Who is The Phantom?"
"I don't know. I mean... I've never heard the name before in my life. It just came to me. I think..."
The graveyard around them, bloody and dark, twisted, and perfect for not very nice occurances, suddenly turned the most brilliant shade of Good Gold (a quality of light trademarked by Deities Unlimited), cleaning itself faster than Tom Felton could have flicked a wand and said that cleaning spell Tonks used on Harry's stuff in that chapter in Book Five where the Order shows up at Privet Drive. Alli looked in wonder at the new and improved setting: graves stood straight, fresh graves were filled with dignity, and daffodils and daisies sprouted up with seemingly unnatural speed. The sun came out ("But I thought it was night?") and the world seemed to play that dawn melody, you know the one, it's got flutes to symbolize birdsong, and maybe an organ or something, but it does that thing with the crescendo and then a flock of song birds flitter away into the changing sky while maybe a small herd of deer blinks pastorally from their perfectly innocent persuits...
Alli was slightly blinded by the Good Gold, but she grinned.
"Illamatar. You couldn't have helped sooner?"
"Come off it. You know English. You even know Mordorian and Gondorian. Get with it. And who's The Phantom, and what's he got to do with Roggie?"
"Oh fine." The etherial llama who had appeared between Alli and Skittles, harmlessly impaling his incorporial form on Skittles's unopened knife, settled into place. "I thought that since the battle ended (Good Guys winning, of course), and the werecreatures were destroyed, and all danger had passed, I could give you back your Seer powers without it unnecessarily effecting the outcome of the story."
"Are you kidding me? Do you REALIZE how much it would have helped if I'd been able to foresee any of this stuff? Do you REALIZE HOW MANY PEOPLE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED!??!?!"
Alli shrieked hysterically, taking out her anger on Illamatar. He merely yawned.
"Go forth, young Alli," (she grumbled about being called young), "and finish this story. A contract must be signed and all characters must have, what we call in the Undying Lands, Their Final Word."
And so it was that every single character, none excluded, was conveniently transported to wherever their author had in mind to write their final scene (or two, if they're just going to be that way), with no care paid to logic, continuity, or anything else.
Alive without breath
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla
Posts: 6,153
When the army of the Dwarves had met the Were creatures there had been an almighty noise. Swords smashed, Axes hacked through heads, shields were splintered and there was the ever present shouting of dwarven voices. Dashing through the field, Smilog had met with the Dwarven King, Dave, and had told him all he knew of Mount Zoom and the plot of the Istari.
The Lord of the Farse Gul rode forth and stopped before the Dwarven King and Smilog. He laughed and threw back his hood, revealing, once again, the potato head and odd crown.
"Now comes the hour of doom!" cried the Farsegul King, "by my hand, oh Dwarven King, your doom now comes." He raised his sword and let forth a great screech of bone chilling depth and pain. The Potato headed one leaped down from the horse and stepped towards the Dwarven King. Dave lifted his axe in challenge to the creature, but a kick from the Lord of the Farsegul rendered the Dwarf floor bound. Placing his foot on the neck of Dace, the Farse gul raised his sword and plunged it down.
"No-ooo!" cried a voice, old and strain. Khuz leaped in the way of the sword and took the blow to his heart. Smilog cried out and swung his axe at the Farsegul, but his blade passed through the neck area.
"HA-ha-ha!" boomed the Farsegul, "No living creature can kill me!"
"Then its a good job I am there then, wot-wot?" The Barrow Wight stood before them with a bow and arrow. He fired. The arrow shot through the air with odd precision for a man with only half a left eye. Straight through the potato it sailed, carrying it far off into the middle of the battle where it had fallen upon a torch, burst into flames and been hacked at by frightened Were creatures. One Were duck picked up a slice and tasted it. He was about to shout 'Urica!' as he had just invented crisps, but was carefully cut to pieces by an insane Skittles.
The Farsegul fell pathetically to the ground and did not move another muscle. If it had any muscles. Which it didn't. Ahem...
Khuz lay dead upon the feild of battle, the rest of the Dwarves flooded into the Graveyard, but soon found that they were not needed. Smilog knelt next to his father and looked into his dead eyes. The Dwarf slowly stood to his feet and then dropped his axe to the ground. Tears filled his eyes as he watched the Good Gold stream into the Graveyard. The Barrow Wight threw the bow and arrow away and walked up to where Smilog stood.
All was still and silent. Looking back, The Barrow Wight could see that they were nearly half a mile away from the Grave yard. The barren wastes of Mordor was all about them, only a refection of the good gold came their way. Smilog was silent. The Barrow Wight lifted his head and nearly fell back, a tall figure stood before them, his wild hair and terrible eyes looked like the very pits of Angband. Blue fire seemed to envelop him and the staff he held seemed to be made of white stone.
"Death!" cried Alatar, "Death take you all! DEATH!" he lunged at Smilog, but the Brown Wizard was stopped by the Barrow Wight who held forth his golden sword. The cold dead light that had once filled the dead man's eyes was gone, now there was a bright white light that shone forth. Alatar stepped back.
"Leave this place," said the Wight, "you have no business here. Let the dead lie in peace." In a flash, Alatar vanished. The Barrow Wight sighed and looked to Smilog. The Dwarf was walking away towards the north. "Where are you going?" The Barrow Wight asked.
"I know not," replied Smilog, "so much has happened these last few days that I do not understand. They say that there is a man upon the Mountains of Cirath Ungol who can help those who have lost their lives and yet live. They call him Séar the Seer in Gondor, others call him Phil the Career counselor."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Mount Zoom is not my place. It never was. Roggie I always despised and avoided. My father was right, that job killed me. Although, it is he that has died in life. I live and yet know not why. Where is Tollin?"
"He is dead."
"Ah." Smilog sat down on a stone and sighed, "I thought as much, you know. What would have happened if I had never found him in that Labyrinth? I expect he cursed my name with his last breath."
"Nay, not so." The Barrow Wight placed his sword back in its place, "He thanked you for letting him live his last days in insanity." There was a pause. "Or something like that. Now, Séar the Seer, you say. Which way is he?"
Never again was Smilog the Dwarf seen in Mordor or Gondor. But, on the 23rd of December, five years later, The Barrow Wight returned to his home with an old, shaggy Dwarf holding a broom. It was said that the Barrows had never been so clean.
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
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From graveyard battlescene nightmare to Good Golden Day Elempi suddenly found himself in autumn mildness amidst the Eat all yen fountains of Can Sing Ton Guard Inns. Elempi was standing before a yellow stone gazebo which stood at one end of the fountain pools. He looked away form the building and saw Panakeia at the far end of the walkway between two pools, and she was dressed in white, holding a bouquet.
"Panakeia? What happened? How did we get here? Where'd you get that awesome gown?"
"Psst! Anakron!"
Anakron? Elempi turned around and saw Lûgnût standing proudly in a black tuxedo (an orc in a tuxedo is an incongruence that one cannot get prepared for), and Elempi gasped at the sight. But he kept enough wits about him to say, "Don't call me that! I'm Elempi!"
"Oh whatever," Luggie waved dismissively. "This is your wedding, silly! And look at the luscious maid of honor!"
Elempi had noticed the orc dressed in a saffron gown, but had tried to ignore it, for there is only one thing harder to get used to than an orc in a tux.
"If this is a wedding," Elempi argued obtusely, "where are all the guests and what about the music?"
"Do you expect them to stand in the pools?" Luggie protested. "Look!" Luggie gestured to all four sides of the Eat all yen fountains, where stood hundreds of orcs, trolls, dwarves, humans, and Gondorians, too. Even Roggie stood at the back of the crowd, nodding benevolently. There were Alli, Aimíe, Skittles, and Igor.
"But I didn't propose properly! And where's my ring?"
At that moment, triumphant organ music let loose from the gazebo and anyone that had not been standing stood up. Panakeia started her slow march down the central walkway. All eyes were on her.
Last edited by littlemanpoet; 06-22-2007 at 08:56 PM.
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Join Date: May 2005
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Panakeia felt the heat of the crowd's gaze on her white-clad figure. She blushed. This was all so unexpected! One moment, she had been on the edge of defeat, lost in the midst of a battle and the next - she was here, wearing the exact gown she'd spotted in a shop window (and fitting perfectly!), and waiting to walk down the aisle at last. How was it possible? Was this even real, or had she indeed fallen in the battle, leaving this scene to be the last fevered imagining of her dying brain?
A whiff of chicken-scented breath from the Orcish maid of honor assured Panakeia that this was no dream.
"Go on, then," the Orc half whispered, half giggled. "Best not to keep them waiting."
Panakeia put one foot forward. Even the shoes were perfect - a pair of the very same shining, white, rhinestoned creations she had longed for. Everything was just as she'd imagined it.
But then, in a whirl of skirts and petticoats, she turned and fled without a word, leaving the guests to stare puzzledly after her.
"Gosh," said Lûgnût. "I wonder what that was about."
To be continued...
Last edited by Celuien; 07-08-2007 at 11:51 AM.
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Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,051
Elempí's jaw dropped. His eyes bugged out. He looked very unprofessorial. Especially in a groom's tux. What was Panakeia doing? It was obvious that she was high tailing it, as impressively as any white tail deer, out of the wedding. But what was she doing it for? Elempí was so dumbstruck that he didn't even bother to correct his ungrammatical thought.
Once over the initial shock, his eyes began to rove here and there, noticing the huge throng gathered there, half of them watching the receding high tail of Panakei'a headdress, half of them watching Elempí to see what his reaction would be. How embarrassing! He wanted the Fountains to leap up and drag him down under water. He was humiliated. Humilitated, even. Homogenized and horrificated. Subliminealized. Stumped. His legs gave way and he fell in a heap on the walkway.
"Woe is me. She doesn't love me. She has run away because she has realized just in time that she doesn't want to marry me." Someone kicked him in the leg. Hard. "Ouch!"
"Get up, you ninny!" cried Lûgnût. "She wants you to chase her down! Any orc can see that! She's behaving like any lovestruck orc-lass, she wants to be caught and tackled and pulled brought back by the whisker hairs."
"Don't be silly. Especially when it's disgusting," Elempí grumped. "She doesn't love me."
Lûgnût kicked him again. "Get up, you lousy excuse for an orc!"
"I'm not an orc!"
"Thank Illamatar! You'd make an awful one! Now go get your orc-lass and bring her back!"
"My woman, you mean."
"Whatever, just do it!" Lûgnût turned to the crowd, who had hunkered down close as they could to catch every word. "What do you say everybody, should Elempí go tackle his bride?!?"
"Yes!!!!" came the roaring reply, "Tackle the bride!" The words formed a chant. "TACKLE - THE - BRIDE! TACKLE - THE - BRIDE! TACKLE - THE - BRIDE!"
"All right! All right! Enough already!" Elempí dragged himself back to his feet and began to walk the way Panakeia had run.
"You better run!" cried Lûgnût. As if on cue, or queue, or mind the gap, or whatever, the band that had showed up for the reception, "Plink Foyd", started riffing on Lûgnût's words, and the lead singer was really getting into it.
"You better run all night and run all day....! ..... Run Run Run Run Run!" Mysteriously, a Wall started abuilding right behind the group on which videos of screeching lorries and varied misbehaving hooligans careened from scene to scene. Elempí couldn't help but get into the spirit of it, and he began to run.
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Many heads turned to watch the spectacle of Panakeia running down the high street in her wedding regalia. It wasn't everyday, after all, that a runaway bride turned up.
Out of breath and with aching feet, Panakeia ducked down an alley and leant against a tiny blue building. She ruefully pulled off she shoes, still sparkling under a layer of dust acquired during her flight. This was not the happily-ever-after ending she had wanted. But neither was the garishly over-perfect wedding she had fled. True, it might have been something taken directly from a magazine. But after so many struggles - the battle, Anakron's identity switch, death and undeath - it wasn't right at all. Panakeia simply wanted to leave Mordor fade into a quiet obscurity with her beloved Elempi, never to be heard from again. Except, perhaps, as a rumor in an epilogue.
But would that ever happen now? Panakeia hoped that Elempi would understand her flight was not about doubts about him, but had only been because she was overwhelmed by the setting. If only he could find her now!
But Panakeia wasn't entirely sure that she could find herself. The route she had taken had been haphazard, and Panakeia hadn't been paying great attention to her path. She was lost. She would have to contact someone - somehow!
The answer came as she looked up at the tiny blue building. Public call. She could try to call someone from there, and hope that she could make it back to the Can Sing Ton Guard Inns in time to explain things. Even if it wasn't exactly what she wanted, the noisy display was better than missing her wedding entirely.
Panakeia tried the door. It wouldn't budge. That made no sense at all. Why would it be locked? She tried again, shoving against the door with all her might, and closed her eyes as a curious tingling sensation passed over her.
When she opened her eyes again, Panakeia gasped. This couldn't be the inside of the tiny box. It just wasn't possible.
"What?" she cried.
"What?" came a louder, equally surprised answer from behind an odd structure in the centre of the spacious room. A man in a suit came out from behind the...thing, waving a small, blue-glowing device in front of him. "Not again. Why is it always brides?" He waved the device in fron of Panakeia, and she stepped back.
"What?" she said again, meaning to say, "What is that? And what is this place? And...what are you talking about?" For the man was speaking again, and Panakeia couldn't make any sense out of his rapid commentary.
"Been around things pulled out of time, have you? Leaves a trace. Particles. Sort of a magnetic effect. Must have been what pulled you in here. There. That ought to fix it." He kept waving the little glowing thing in front of her.
Panakeia gasped again as a tiny glowing stream of dust rose from her gown and trickled away across the room.
"You wouldn't happen to want to go to Chiswick, would you?"
"Chiswick? What? No. I was in the Can Sing Ton Guard Inns."
"At your wedding. And you don't want to be late. Right then!" He ran back to the middle of the room and threw a switch.
There was a sudden lurch, and Panakeia nearly lost her footing. Then another lurch, and the man ran back across the room to fling open the door. They were in the Guard Inns, only a little way from the Eat all yen fountains.
"There you are." Panakeia, feeling rather dazed, stepped out the door. She whirled to see it close behind her, and her jaw dropped as the blue box faded into thin air.
She continued to stare, spellbound, at the spot where the box had been, until a noise from the fountains roused her from her daze. Lûgnût and a few scattered guests were running up to her.
The orc started to ask a thousand questions, but Panakeia cut it off with one of her own.
"Where's Elempi?"
"Tsk, tsk," the orc smirked. "Ran away from your own wedding."
"Where is he?" she repeated crossly, in no mood for delay. She needed to explain to Elempi.
"Off looking for you."
Panakeia groaned.
Last edited by Celuien; 07-24-2007 at 08:32 PM.
Itinerant Songster
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,051
Elempí ran until his legs ached, then jogged until he could not keep his breath, then walked until he realized that he had no idea where Panakeia might have got to.
"Well that was ripping silly!" he said aloud to himself in his best imitation of Limey dialect (such things were notorious in Dweomer ridden Mordor).
He looked around. He was near a big building surrounded by a tall black wrought iron fence, outside of which was a sign reading Wessman Stabby. A red-robed almbudsman orwhateveryoucallit stood by a gate in the fence, allowing some people through and turning others away (sometimes with an entertainingly swift kick). Elempí went up to him.
"Pardon me sir," he attempted in his best imitation British, "did you happen to see a - erm - bride run by?"
The redrobed man's thick gray brow rose. "A bride, you say?"
"Yes," Elempí nodded encouragingly.
"Running, you say?"
"Yes sir," Elempí nodded even more encouragingly.
"Whatever for?"
Elempí sighed. He was going to have to explain. "We are to marry, sir."
"I dare say not, if she's running, don't you know!" The almbudsman laughed at his own wittiness.
"Sir," Elempí attempted again with extreme patience, "did you see her?"
"Ah, um .... No. I should say not."
"Oh. Well, thank you anyway. I must be-"
"But there was a white robed nun came in just before you got here, and I thought to meself how frilly a nun's getup it seemed."
"Well that might be her then, wot?"
"I'm thinking that it might indeed."
"Spendid! May I go in?"
"I should say not!"
"No? Why not, sir?"
"It's a special day. Rites and observances and all that. Can't go in if you're looking for your bride."
"Oh. But if I was going in to observe the rites, then I could go in?"
"Well then, may I go in?"
"What for?"
"To observe the rites this special day, sir!"
"By all means. In you go!"
"Many thanks, sir!"
"Mind you watch out for the statues! They're a bit lively today!"
Elempí hustled into the Stabby, wondering what on earth the man could mean. He passed through the oversized double doors and found himself in a spacious hall. All manner of men and women were walking about, wearing all manner of styles and periods of costume. There were many empty pedestals. And all the personages seemed to have a gray cast to them. That would make it relatively easy to find a white dressed nun, he thought. One grayish fellow seemed friendly enough.
"Hello there, I'm wondering, sir, if you might have seen-"
"Greetings. And who might you be?" The man's hair was wild and worn over his ears. He wore a frock coat and seemed in bad health.
"I'm Elempí of Umbar, sir, and who might you be?"
"William Wilbur of Forth of Fifth."
"You don't say!"
"I just did."
"Well, so you did, sir. Did you happen to see a nun dressed in white? Or a bride who looked like a nun? Or a n-" Elempí stopped, confused.
"I did. She went to the poets' corner." William put his hand to his mouth to whisper conspiratorially. "Watch out for the busts!"
"Many thanks!" Elempí grinned. He wondered what busts the man was referring to as he made his way down the long, tall, and relatively narrow hallway in the direction of what was supposed to be the poets' corner. He hoped he would know it when he saw it. And he hoped Panakeia would be there.
Last edited by littlemanpoet; 08-17-2007 at 08:36 PM.
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Amdist the celebrating throngs gathered in Wessman Stabby, there was one very forlorn figure snuffling in a nondescript corner of the building. Indeed, with her drab brown dress and bloodshot eyes, she looked as nondescript as the dusty corner.
And who, of all the celebrants, had reason to be sad? It was, of course, Panakeia. But how had she gone from bridalwear to yesterday's laundry?
After arriving back at the Guard Inns to find Elempi as missing as she had been earlier, Panakeia had fled once again, this time to her little flat. She had to search for Elempi, and there was no way to run an efficient trek through the city in her gown. And so she quickly changed to traveling clothes and then, as she left again, handed her elaborate wedding dress off to a passing Orc whom she noticed looking at it longingly. The dress had only brought her bad luck, despite being quite fashionable, and Panakeia didn't want it. And then she went off in search of her beloved.
The search proved to be more challenging than she had anticipated. Elempi was nowhere near the Guard Inns, as far as she could tell. And worse, the ever present crowds had grown denser. No matter how much she tried to move against it, Panakeia found that the crowd was slowly and irresistibly pulling her along to the southwest, and before long, she found that she had been shuffled into the vast halls of Wessman Stabby, where a celebration of some kind was in full swing. Even the Orc who had claimed her gown was there. But she didn't see Elempi.
Seeing the dress reminded Panakeia of the day's disaster, and she hurried away to as distant a corner as she could manage to have a good cry. She did not know how long she sat there before a gentle tap on the shoulder brought her back to reality.
Last edited by Celuien; 08-26-2007 at 08:50 AM.
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Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,051
Elempi came to the Poets' Corner.
"I wouldn't go there if I were you," said a voice. Elempi looked around. "Over here. No, here. No no no! Over here." Elempi found the source of the voice. It was a dreaded bust. None other than Sir Water Scotch & Rye, to be precise.
"I always thought that scowl was very lifelike," Elempi remarked.
"Of course it is! Now don't go over there."
"Over where?"
Sir Water Scotch & Rye indicated to his right with a nod of his head, which set his shoulders rattling on the pedestal.
"Never you mind! Just don't go over there!"
"Why ever not?" Elempi asked.
"You'll be stepping on deadmen's bones, that's why ever not!"
"Erm, that is hardly avoidable in this great Stabby, don't you think?"
The bust rolled its eyes. "You do not want to step on that particular grave."
Elempi went over for a look. Jeff Chaw Sir. "Shouldn't that be Sir Jeff Chaw? And why have I never heard of him?"
A deep groan came from beneath the ancient stones.
"You stepped on him," the bust accused.
"Did not."
"Maybe not with your feet, but with your words."
"That hardly counts."
"It counts most of all!"
"Whatever. Have you seen a bride?"
"A bride? Here? Whatever for? There's no wedding today."
"My bride ran away. Cold feet and all that. I'm trying to find her."
"I'll tell you what I saw if you get off that grave."
"I'm not on the grave."
Elempi looked down. The groan came again from deep beneath his feet. "Why, the stones moved!"
"Hmph!" cried Sir Water Scotch & Rye.
Elempi stepped off the grave. "So what did you see?"
Elempi groaned. In harmony with the voice from beneath the stones. It was actually pretty nice to hear. It sounded a bit like 'Illamatar Save the Queen'. Well, it would have to a pack of hounds. At any rate, there was no white gowned bride in the Poets Corner, so Elempi forsook the place and Sir Water Scotch & Rye and ambled on up some steps beside massive sarcophagi in honor of much dead royalty, until he stopped, listening to a sound that seemed familiar somehow. It was coming from a little corner tucked away between the tombs of Deadwood the Confettior and Henpecked IV. Someone was sniffling. Crying, even. The someone was not in the white bridal gown, but it would not hurt to ask. Maybe this person had heard from Panakeia and was weeping in sympathy. Poppycock, you twit, Elempi said to himself. But why not?
He tapped on the weeper's shoulder.
"Pardon me, but have you seen a bride running away from her groom?"
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That voice! Panakeia would know it anywhere. How Elempi came to find her, she didn't know or care. He had found her, and that was enough. She leapt to her feet and threw both arms around him, nearly knocking Elempi off his feet.
"You found me! You found me! Oh, you wonderful you." Passersby in the Stabby started to gather to watch the impending happy ending.
Elempi looked rather startled, but happy at the turn of the events. There was one question, however.
"Why'd you run away from me?"
Panakeia's eyes and mouth went round. "Away from you?" she cried, and her arms circled tighter. "Never! It was just Roggie, and the Orcs, and the crowd, and all the fuss and bother. But no! I didn't run from you. And..." - here her voice dropped to a whisper - "I'll never run away again."
There were no words for the remainder of the reunion. The watchers cheered, and from above, someone dropped white rose petals. As luck would have it, the observance for the day was a general wedding ceremony for all comers, and Panakeia and Elempi hardly knew what happened before being handed an official triplicate stamped form proclaimed to all the world that they were, in fact, wed.
"Ready for another adventure?" asked Elempi.
"We've already started one," Panakeia replied with a bat of her lashes.
And so they left, faded into the crowd. It was said that they eventually found their slow way out of Mordor and came at last to Umbar where, as must happen at the close of every comedy, they lived happily ever after.
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Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat.....
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During this time, it is difficult for us to track the status of the numerous events that happen downtown each week. Please double-check with the event organizer through their website or via phone to ensure the event is still happening.
Events for January 13, 2020 › Visual Arts
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Events for January 13, 2020 › Visual Arts
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
*If you have a NEW Dexcom G6 transmitter, follow these directions. The "old" way below will not work for transmitters with serial number 81****.
The Dexcom G6 CAN be restarted! There was a lot of hype when the G6 came out because Dexcom claimed that it was not able to be used beyond the initial 10 day wear. Thankfully, this is not true.
I want to mention a few things before sharing how I restart my sensors. Please do this at your own discretion. The G6 is FDA approved for 10 day wear only and it is possible that the sensor isn't as accurate the longer you wear it. I extend my sensors at my own risk, and so should you. Additionally, I've extended mine successfully, but of course cannot guarantee that yours will.
Second, this method will not deliver blood glucose readings during the restart and warm-up period. You do not need to worry about the sensor expiring before you start the process (other methods require this).
Here's how I restart my sensors (using the Dexcom app with an iPhone):
- Let your sensor expire.
- Start a new sensor session and chose "no code". You do not need to remove the transmitter.
- Let the warm-up session start and run for about 15 minutes. I set a timer on my phone.
- After 15 minutes, STOP sensor. It will warn that you cannot start a stopped sensor, but this is not true.
- Start another new sensor and chose "with code". (Choose this only if you have the code for the sensor you are wearing. Do not enter a code from another sensor or make one up. If you do not have the code, choose "no code". You will need to calibrate with this option, but the sensor will still restart.)
- The sensor will warm-up for two hours and start giving readings after
That's it. Literally. It's super easy.
Have you used another method to restart your G6? I'd love to hear how. There are lots of ways to do it, but I've found this to be the easiest.


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Google Incorporation has announced great features for businesses, attempting to bring the social network to the enterprise for Google+ .Google+ is attempting to build some character, according to a post on its official blog. Clay Bavor, Product Management Director of the Google Apps platforms, posted Wednesday morning that the social butterfly, er, network, is venturing in earnest into the space of collaborative enterprise solutions, currently filled by the likes of the recently-Microsoft-acquired Yammer. Google+ does seem to be sticking with its true colors, focusing on tailoring existing features in Google+ to be used effectively for an enterprise environment.Here is the full coverage of the Google Incorporation has announced B2B featured for Google+ to bring entrepreneurs.
Google says about B2B feature for Google+ :-
Bavor says that some of the features have been pilot-tested and will be "moving into a full preview mode" and rolling out to Google Apps customers throughout today. The existing features include the ability to restrict posts to those within the organization, hold a Hangout or group video meeting, from within Gmail, Calendar and Docs, and administrative features unique to an organization's network. Hangouts have been one of the more innovative and unique features of Google+. Google+ also pioneered the powerful, if time consuming and complicated, Circles feature, which allows users to restrict their sharing to particular groups. The administrative tools Google is releasing are surely a necessity for treading into the enterprise space, something the company talked about prioritizing in late 2011.
B2B featured will be free till 2013 :-
The business features will be free until the end of 2013; no mention was made of what the cost may be when this preview period ends. During this time, users can expect to see additional features added to the service. Google Apps for Business customers currently pay a fee for the use of premium versions popular Google products such as Gmail, Calendar, and Talk — however, Google has shuttered the Google Apps for Teams element of its service.
Previous announcement of Google+ :-
In a separate post on August 3, Google's Director of Engineering, Max Ibel, announced that the company would be phasing out its Google Apps for Teams product, the goal of which was to allow organizations "to collaborate using non-email applications from Google like Google Docs, Google Calendar, and Google Talk." The choice, obviously, is likely due to its new venture with Google+ for businesses. Just to be clear, Google Apps for Business will still be around.
Internal motto of B2B for Google+ :-
Google has perfected the art of shutting down products that most people have forgotten about, and this all appears to be well-timed: In June, a deal was struck for Microsoft to acquire Yammer, a startup focused on bringing social network and collaborative tools to the workplace. It would be a reasonable play for Microsoft to combine the collaboration features of the popular enterprise social network with its cloud-based productivity tools in Office 365. This would place the two titans of tech toe-to-toe in the battle for a share of the ever-increasing user demand for cloud-based solutions.
The potential for impact with this product is serious, and could possibly disrupt web-conferencing, enterprise social networking, and cloud-based productivity markets. The main question is whether Google can overcome the scarlet G+ on its chest and its diminishing network effect to convince businesses that its services are powerful, widely adopted and here to stay. Honestly, a pivot from a social-only network to a niche business one doesn't sound like a bad idea right now.
Guest post contributed by Jacob Monroe
Jacob Monroe is a Willamette University alumni who works in U.S. Green Building Council and part time blogger.Catch him in Twitter


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Tom Morello Debuts Comic Book Series 'Orchid'
Tom Morello's music tends to pack some punch, whether it's his work with Rage Against the Machine or Audioslave or his recent solo recordings as The Nightwatchman.
The same can be said of Morello's new graphic comic series, Orchid, which he unveiled Wednesday night at the San Diego Comic Con.
"It's like 'Lord of the Rings' meets 'Battle of Algiers,' " Morello says. "I wanted to craft a story that has the same visceral impact and political clout as the music I've been involved in."
Orchid's protagonist is a 16-year-old prostitute who discovers there's a greater purpose in her life. Dark Horse Comics will release the first of Orchid's 12 issues on Oct. 12.
Morello has also written a score for Orchid. Each song from the soundtrack will be available free with the purchase of each issue.
Speaking of music, Morello's next Nightwatchman album, 'World Wide Rebel Songs,' is slated for an Aug. 30 release on New West Records. While past Nightwatchman releases were mostly stripped-down acoustic efforts, the new 12-song album finds Morello working with a full band and playing electric guitar.
"The same guy who nervously yet bravely stepped up to the open mic nights with an acoustic guitar is definitely there," Morello says. "But I felt fine with bringing out the heavy artillery when needed. Sometimes big message need a big sound."


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IT'S the great Southampton ball hunt.
Saints are challenging fans to play Find the Ball on an epic scale by hiding 500 limited edition footballs around the county today.
And, if you are lucky enough to spot one, not only do you win it but you can also 'earn your stripes' by winning Saints' new kit before it goes on sale.
Simply take a selfie of yourself with it and post it to Twitter with the hashtag #EarnYourStripes to enter the contest.
Ten winners will then be drawn at random and invited to collect one of the first home shirts off the production line at an event next Friday evening, the night before the kit officially goes on sale.
And you can also send your selfies to email@example.com and see Monday's Daily Echo for an update.
WestQuay is one of the places the balls have been left and Saints stars Jos Hooiveld and Paulo Gazzaniga were at the shopping centre to meet fans and sign autographs.
Hundreds lined up around the shopping centre to get autographs and their pictures taken with the star pair.
Southampton school pupils Barnaby Taylor, Charlie Harrigan and Joe Case, all 14, said they were thrilled to meet two of their heroes.
Barnaby, who goes to King Edward VI School, said: "They were great to chat to and they are looking forward to the new season. We chatted about last season and they said they were hoping we could build on our success and stay in the top ten."
The boys added they hoped new manager Ronald Koeman brings in top talent like Belgium striker Romelu Lukaku.
If you need some help tracking down the balls make sure you add 'southamptonfc' on Snapchat as the club will reveal clues where to find the balls throughout the day.
Saints staff were out at 5am today dropping balls in places including the Common, Winchester Cathedral and Eastleigh town centre.
Where to find the balls:
- Bargate
- WestQuay
- Southampton Train Station
- Southampton Airport
- Ocean Village Harbour
- St Mary's estate
- The Common
- Stadium
- Outside doors in some housing estates
- Hotels
- Oxford Street
- Mayflower Park
- Above Bar Street
- Guildhall
Eastleigh: Shopping area
Winchester: Cathedral
New Forest: Training ground Houses around the corner


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The Partitions Page of the Configuration Editor allows you to edit the server partitions.
Here's what the Partitions Page looks like:
The page is divided vertically in two parts.
You can choose the orientation of the page by clicking on the appropriate button ("Horizontal Orientation" or "Vertical Orientation" ) at the right of the page.
The left side of the page shows the partitions defined on the server. This is where you can add or delete a partition.
The right side of the page display and lets you edit the details of the selected partition in the left side.
An ID is mandatory for the partition.
A Cache Size is mandatory for the partition.
A Suffix is mandatory for the partition.
Check the Enable Optimizer checkbox to enable the optimizer for the partition.
Check the Synchronization On Write checkbox to enable the synchronization on write for the partition.
This section allows you to specify to the server the attributes that should be indexed and their cache size.
Use the Add... , Edit... and Delete buttons to set the indexed attributes.
The following icons can appear in the Partitions Page.
|Standard Partition
|System Partition


text:
Minimal Thickness Concerns
- Practice Implant Restoration
- Minimal Thickness Abutment
- Implant Design Help
- Help for Implant Proposal
- Help With Implant Crown
- Minimal Thickness Concerns
- Veneering Structure Not Fitting
- Second Implant with CEREC
- First Implant Restoration
- Implant Screw Retained
- Implant Crown 31
- Help to Restore Implant
- 1st Custom Abutment
- Designate ScanPost or TiBase
- Help With Implant Crown Design #12
- Implant Bridge Abutments
- Implant Abutment Question
- Implant Design Dilemma
- Crown Seating on Abutment
- Imaging ScanBody
- Implant Retained Bridge
- Help With Implant Proposal Multilayer
- Imaging of ScanPost Complex
- Veneering Material Split Case
- Implant Bridge Abutment Help
- Screw Retained Implant 30 Crown
- First CEREC Implant Restoration
- Implant Abutment Design 8
- Implant Placement Split Screw Retained
- Implant Will Not Seat
- 29 30 Screw Retained Crowns
- Tissue Level Difficulties
- 19 Cemented Implant Crown
- No ScanBody in EDIT MODEL
- First Digital Case
- First Digital Implant Case 2
- Implant 9 Facial
- Veneering Structure Fit
- TiBase Proposal
- Help Lateral Implant
- Too Tall Variobase
- Fitting Of Split Crown
- Smooth Out Whole of Abutment
- Tissue Level Proposal Input
- #2 Screw Retained Implant Crown
- Help with #s 18&19 Crowns Fit Abutments
- Implant Crown Design 30 and Imaging
- Implant Split Case Questions
- Weird Implant Proposal
- Help With Healing Abutment
- Design Help Tooth 22
- Implant Help Base Line
- Split Implant Case Open Margin
- Two Abutment Bridge
- Implant Crown Proposal and Model Axis
- #6 Implant Split Minimal Thickness
- #s 8 9 Implant Cantilever
- Implant Position, Help with Split
- Anterior Split Case Minimal Thickness
- First Implant Restoration Tissue
- Implants 18 19 Position
- Fitting of Split Veneer Crown
- 9 Implant Crown Needs Provisionalization
- Critique of Implant Proposal
- Design Implant 19 Crown
- Help On Splitting Implant Crown
Course Description
In this video, Dr. Mark Fleming discusses a submitted case where the doctor was concerned about the minimal thickness of the abutment. The thread can be viewed here: https://www.cerecdoctors.com/discussion-boards/view/id/58361
Related Workshop
Provisionalizing and Restoring Implants with CEREC (Formerly Level 3)
CEREC will produce highly esthetic implant restorations with optimized occlusion and contacts, whether you are treating a single tooth or complete quadrant. Fabricating chairside implant restorations opens an avenue to be more productive in one's office whether you are temporizing an implant with a custom healing abutment or provisional restoration or fabricating the final restoration. This workshop is designed to get users familiar with all aspects of restoring implants with the CEREC technology.Learn more ›
Related Workshop
Fundamentals of Guided Implant Surgery with Cone Beam
This course will give you the experience to utilize the Dentsply Sirona Cone Beam CT (Galileos or XG3D) for surgical planning of implants and may help you to understand the fundamentals of guided implant surgery. Intended for clinicians who are interested in, new to, or moderately experienced with implant therapy. This two-day lecture and hands on workshop will take you from A to Z in all aspects of guided-implant planning using the Galileos/XG3D and the CEREC, as well as provide a complete understanding of all the different...Learn more ›
There is no quiz associated with this course.


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Latest News
Operation Savage Garden II and Operation Firefly Report (2000-09-19)First a little bit about the 2 big airsoft events we sponsored this summer, including Operation Firefly in the UK in conjunction with AIRSOFT.ORG, and Operation Savage Garden II in the US, in conjunction with BlackRain7. Both events were smashing successes where RedWolf Airsoft proudly sponsored the events with raffle giveaways.
Operation Firefly, UK
The event was a runaway success with coverage from local media, and hundreds in attendance. We donated a brand new Marui M1A1 and a 500FPS upgraded APS2 Sniper Rifle to two lucky winners of the Firefly raffle. Being one of the premier airsoft events of the year, Redwolf Airsoft was pleased to be a part of the success.
Alex, the event sponsor, gave thanks and said the winners of the M1A1 and APS2 were both extremely excited.
Operation Savage Garden II, USA
Located in the beautiful woodlands outside of Lake Tahoe in the USA, this fun-filled yet grueling 3-day event was met with a sizeable turnout. RedWolf Airsoft was physically on hand at the event (see event photo above) to show our support for the sport's development in the US. Apart from donating a Marui SG1 to a lucky raffle winner (who you see on the left here), we also handed out giveaways for participants to remember us by! The events, while long, were lots of fun and while by day 3 everyone was pretty tired, a look back reminded us all that it was worth the trouble for absolutely incredible fun! We here at Redwolf Airsoft will look to support more events to foster airsoft whether it be in the US, UK, France, Italy, Norway, Sweden...where ever!
So if you see us at the next major airsoft event, do come by to say hello!


text: All Colours Deluxe Remi Clip Ins By Beauty Works 140g SKU bwclip Be the first to review this product In stock As low as £120.99 Qty - + Add to Cart Add to Wish List Add to Compare Overview Our clip-in system has been cleverly designed using a unique three piece system, using a lace weft structure the hand selected hair is compacted onto three easy to use flat weft strips. Allowing you to wear your hair in a variety of hairstyles that our completely discreet and lightweight. Featuring a protective silicon layer on each clip to cushion your natural hair and protect breakage. Our deluxe clip-in extensions our made from hand selected 100% remy cuticle retained human hair to create a natural look you would normally associate with permanent salon hair extensions. The cuticle retains the hairs natural shine and vitality allowing the hair to behave tangle-free throughout its lifetime. This hair type is reusable and can be heated, styled and washed just like your own hair. And while remy human hair can be more of an expensive pick, with the proper care, it is durable and can last many months. Each pack contains a full and thick set of hair extensions compacted down on to three easy to apply clip-in pieces, perfect for a big night out or every day glam these clip-in extensions are a cost effective way of achieving hair that you can apply yourself. Pack Contains: Large piece: 2 x 11". Nape piece: 1 x 8" weft Weft contains 140g


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Congratulations to Crafts from the Cwtch, winner of the Creative Photography Contest Award with their entry, Pixie Winslet.
The votes were close, but Crafts from the Cwtch just pipped the other entries to the win.
Crafts from the Cwtch wins the beautiful Creative Photography Prize from Fyberspates and donated by Jeni Hewlett herself, a skein of hand-dyed Sheila's Sock yarn (shown in petrol blue).
In second place, Crea in the City wins the amazing crocheted clock from CrocheTime on Etsy for her entry, A Yarny Hair Day, and Bear Ears' Dark Side of the yarn wins a beautiful duo of handmade cold process soaps from Kismet's Companion on Folksy.
I will be contacting each of the winners tomorrow. For now, congratulations to all who took part, the standard of entry was very, very high.


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As Metal Gear Solid 4's release date draws near, more and more info about the game's expected to spill out. Some of it from people who have played through the thing already. People who sat through a lotta cutscenes. Some of them up to 90-minutes long. Nintety. Minutes. Sure, you can pause them, and skip them, but ninety minutes? Bring popcorn.
MGS4 has '90 minute' cut-scenes [CVG]
UPDATE - CVG say it has 90-minute cutscenes. GamePro beg to differ, saying that "sounds like an exaggeration", though in saying that they fail to provide a "corrected" figure.


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text:
If you have questions about the programme, you can contact ESA's Education Office. However, due to the large number of e-mails that we receive, we ask you to read carefully the entire website prior to contacting us, in order to make sure the information you are looking for is not already detailed there. Finally, when sending an e-mail please include a specific subject title.
If you can't find the required information, contact ESA's Education Office at: flyyourthesis @ esa.int.
Please note that the information detailed above is subject to change without prior notice.


text:
Datto utilizes Hybrid Cloud Technology to improve redundancy and allow users greater protection of their systems and data. Hybrid Cloud continuity is simple in concept yet robust in feature set; it leverages the advantages of local backup and the security of the cloud.
It starts with workstations and servers protecting data locally across the Local Area Network (LAN) to the Datto appliance. From there it is automatically transmitted to the secure Datto cloud. This technology improves fault tolerance while reducing the reliance on bandwidth speed. The local Datto device can act as a restore hub for everything from files to application and system fail over, it can also act as a staging environment for offsite transfer. Scheduling off-site data transfers can be critical for bandwidth management and carries no risk of having unsaved backups. In addition, should the local device be compromised data that was transferred to the Cloud can act as a replica site for the business. A local only backup option cannot ensure data integrity should a site wide disaster occur.
Hybrid Cloud Technology is employed on all Datto solutions, including Datto SIRIS 2.


text:
Ron Paul appeared on CNN today with Wolf Blitzer and was asked predictably (how many times have people asked this question now?) if and when he will support McCain, why he will NOT support McCain (hmm, perhaps because RON PAUL IS STILL RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT!!! — not to mention McCain is virtually the polar opposite of what Paul is and what he stands for) and why he is still running for president. I think Wolf might have missed the "why don't you run third party?" question this time though.
But you've gotta love this interview. The media still doesn't understand why Ron Paul refuses to play the game all of the other major candidates do/did. It's fun to watch the perplexed, confused media try to make sense of someone with a solid moral and ideological foundation who actually follows his principles.
Filed under: Ron Paul | Tagged: bestseller, book bomb, CNN, constitution, democrat, economy, foreign policy, Iraq War, John McCain, libertarian, NYT Bestseller List, politics, Republican, Ron Paul, Ron Paul Vs. John McCain, The Revolution: A Manifesto, Wolf Blitzer |


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I realize this included spending money but before you try to shake your finger at me, we
decided that minor thrifting would be acceptable, as long as you don't leave the store spending more than $10.
So, yesterday I found a small cast iron skillet for frying eggs, wooden
handled whisk and my favorite, this sweater coat...all for less than $6. Isn't the
pattern cool? It's doesn't even look like it had ever been worn, the yarn is smooth with
no piling. My husband thinks the tiny skillet is silly but sometimes just one fried egg
is all I need!
Other Stories
18 comments:
aw, those are great finds. excellent work.ReplyDelete
nice job!! you can't beat 6$ for all that!ReplyDelete
omg.. i love that pattern!ReplyDelete
whoa, that sweater is amazing! I've been looking for something like that for a while now.ReplyDelete
Good for you; awesome finds!ReplyDelete
I don't think thrifting should count because of the effort involved. It takes time to go through all the junk to find fabulous things. It's almost like a part-time job. HeheheReplyDelete
I really want a tiny skillit! the sweater is awesome. reminds me of something from the movie "terms of endearment". xoReplyDelete
just found your blog! LOVEEEEEEE the thrifted items...and the rest of your stuff!ReplyDelete
wow, that sweater is amazing! great find.ReplyDelete
Oooo I love the sweater! And I remember hearing something about a similar small cast iron skillet. Maybe from a movie ... I don't recall, but I think one egg is (sometimes) just enough.ReplyDelete
Under $10! Major score -love the sweater and the tiny pan. Totally practical in my eyes!ReplyDelete
Can you recommend any thrift shops in NYC?ReplyDelete
@Peter, I wouldn't know, I've never been to NYC, sorry.ReplyDelete
I love this! Great blog!ReplyDelete
love it all! especially that skillet. skillets can be adorable, right? because that one definitely is.ReplyDelete
lovely cardi - nice job! i totally agree with you on the practicality of a tiny skillet. XOReplyDelete
I have one of those! I got it at a thrift store a few years ago... hey sometimes we just need one quick egg in the morning!ReplyDelete
Love your blog btw :)
I really love that sweater!ReplyDelete
Thank you for your comments, I love hearing from you!
Questions, comments or sponsorship inquires, please contact me via the 'contact' link.


text:
By Aarti Dhar. Read online version of the article on The Hindu - With mostly first-generation learners as pupils, the first batch of students at the now-famous 'Rancho School' in Ladakh passes out.
Surprising it may sound but 12 of the 13 students of Druk Padma Karpo School or `Rancho School', as it is more popularly known now, cleared the Class X examination this year!
This was the first batch of the school in Ladakh's Shey that shot to fame after it featured in the Aamir Khan-starrer 3 Idiots. If the first batch in 2001 had only 13 students, at present the total strength is 705 with almost half of them being hostel-residents.
Happy with the performance, principal Prasad Eledath says teaching is a challenge because most of the students are first generation learners with hardly any or very little exposure to the outside world. "They come from remote areas like Zanskar and Nubra Valley which are cut-off from the rest of the world for most part of the year."
Promoted by the Druk Padma Karpo Education Society, the school was partially destroyed in the flash floods and landslips that hit the town in 2010, but life has moved on. "Thankfully we did not have any casualties and we shifted the children just in time," Mr. Eledath says.
Giving a lot of thought to the structure and design of the school, the building is shaped like a key and promotes education as the key to life. It is environment-friendly with no heaters, even in the severe winter that the region experiences. The buildings are oriented in such a manner that solar heating system keeps the rooms warm. During winters, when there is no sun, the school remains closed.
Affiliated to the Jammu &Kashmir Board of School Education, the school provides education at par with any elite educational institution in the country, claims Mr. Eledath. The management has opened a branch in Khachhey for those who cannot come to the main school. Many more branches are proposed as the number of children is steadily increasing.
Admitting that the film made the school popular, Mr. Eledath also says that a large number of visitors to the school had resulted in some level of interference with teaching. "All of what was shown in the film does not actually happen here, though we do focus more on projects and activities." Now, visitors are not allowed beyond a point during the school hours.
Tourists now prefer to eat Chinese or Tibetan food and have a cup of coffee at the adjoining 'Rancho's Coffee Shop' that has become a landmark hangout! Most part of the school is visible from here.
Yoga, meditation, and physical education form part of the school curriculum. "Teaching can also be a challenge because we come from a system where teachers do the talking. But under the Montessori system followed here, we let the students talk and ask," explains the principal.
Rudrani Dasgupta, who has been teaching here for the past two years, says that the students here do not come with any kind of baggage. A significant number of students do not want to leave Ladakh after schooling; a certain section, however, aspire to join the civil services. "I want to become an IAS and move to the plains," says Regzin, a Class X student.
There are some who even want to open hotels since tourism is a money-spinner in Ladakh now.


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AudioAlways on the lookout for a better sound, I have constantly experimented and the best has never been good enough for me because music is first and foremost sound - and sound is "perhaps inexhaustible". (Christoph Friedrich Hellwag in a letter to Immanuel Kant of 13 December 1790)
A recording from 1989: Bottesini's B minor Concerto with Orchestra. At that time I was heavily influenced by the School of the remarkable Viennese Professor Ludwig Streicher.
Bottesini 1 - Allegro moderato
Bottesini 2 - Andante
Bottesini 3 - Allegro
Bottesini again, the well-known Elegy in D Major.
A sound study from 1991.
Elegia in Re
That same year I experimented further with vocal pieces.
I have always wanted to "sing" Ravel's "Pavane" on the double bass...
Pavane pour une infante défunte


text: eDocTalk Newsletter Welcome to eDocTalk Timely, convenient and useful information is an important component of the partnership between Legacy Health and its physicians. That's why we have eDocTalk. It comes each month from Legacy Chief Medical Officer Lewis Low, M.D. Current edition Read the latest edition of eDocTalk. Have a question or comment? We value your ideas. Send Dr. Low an email.


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Nazarene Education
Christian education is that ministry of the Church by which it seeks to communicate its faith and nurture Christlike disciples. In the Church of the Nazarene, the ministry of Christian education is expressed through local church education and Nazarene higher education, including clergy education.
The International Board of Education (IBOE) serves the Church of the Nazarene system of higher education in advocacy, support, evaluation and networking. This system of institutions includes 51 colleges, universities, and seminaries and is resolute in shaping Christlike disciples and servant-leaders for lifelong service and global impact.
The institutions are located in more than 120 world areas on six continents and serve a richly diverse student body offering phenomenal opportunities for the more than 50,000 students who annually make Nazarene institutions their schools of choice.
List of IBOE Educational Institutions Contact Information
Africa Region
Africa Nazarene University
Nazarene Bible College of East Africa
Nazarene Theological College
Nazarene Theological College of Central Africa
Nazarene Theological Institute - ITN/NTI
Seminário Nazareno de Cabo Verde
Seminário Nazareno em Moçambique
Southern Africa Nazarene University
Asia-Pacific Region
Asia-Pacific Nazarene Theological Seminary
Indonesia Nazarene Theological College
Japan Nazarene Theological Seminary
Korea Nazarene University
Melanesia Nazarene Bible College
Melanesia Nazarene Teachers College
Nazarene College of Nursing
Nazarene Theological College
Philippine Nazarene College
South Pacific Nazarene Theological College
Southeast Asia Nazarene Bible College
Taiwan Nazarene Theological College
Visayan Nazarene Bible College
Eurasia Region
Eastern Mediterranean Nazarene Bible College
European Nazarene College
Nazarene Nurses Training College
Nazarene Theological College-Manchester
South Asia Nazarene Bible College
Mesoamerica Region
Caribbean Nazarene College
Instituto Bíblico Nazareno
Séminaire Théologique Nazaréen d'Haiti
Seminario Nazareno de las Américas
Seminario Nazareno Dominicano
Seminario Nazareno Mexicano
Seminario Teológico Nazareno
Seminario Teológico Nazareno Cubano
South America Region
Seminario Bíblico Nazareno
Seminario Nazareno del Área Central
Seminario Teológico Nazareno del Cono Sur
Seminario Teológico Nazareno del Perú
Seminário Teológico Nazareno do Brasil
Seminario Teológico Nazareno Sudamericano
USA/Canada Region
Ambrose University
Eastern Nazarene College
MidAmerica Nazarene University
Mount Vernon Nazarene University
Nazarene Bible College
Nazarene Theological Seminary
Northwest Nazarene University
Olivet Nazarene University
Point Loma Nazarene University
Southern Nazarene University
Trevecca Nazarene University


text:
Welcome to Amateur Tied, the no. 1 amateur bondage site on the web. We can promise you that all our content is 100% amateur,
because it is 100% user submitted!
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Beautiful slave wife Annie loves to be tied up and fucked. Her husband submitted this set to us! Here she is
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This update contains some our personal favorite classic bondage pics! Here we have bored housewife Mary fucking the nextdoor neightbour.
But he's not just the nextdoor Neighbour, he's her bondage master. Dressing her in slinky underwear he hogtieds this slutty bitch and
then makes her suck on his member. Later he frogties her, making her to lie helpless on the bed as he spunks his load all over her time and time again.
If only Mary's husband knew what a bondage slut she really was...
Whats better after a night dancing at the Ambassadors Ball than to tie up and fuck your wife? As soon as they get home Sven pounces on his slut wife Mirka.
Ripping off her expensive dress he exposes her silky underwear and stockings. Soon he binds her wrists and legs to a chair before gagging her. Then he begins proceedings
by pulling out his cock and spunking over her. The greedy slut loves to feel her Masters warm spunk over her. Now he takes her to the bedroom. Frogtieing her on the bed and fucks her hard. First in her tight pussy, but then in her lubed up ass.
She wants to scream but cannot... Its all part of being a bondage slave!
This slutty wife failed to cook her masters meal to his satisfaction. Now its time for her punishment!!! Dressing her as a french maid (to show her what she should be like)
He binds her wrists with rope and gags her mouth. Then taking her out to the garage, he introduces her to his new punishment bed. He binds her ankles and then elevates her by rope to the hook on the ceiling.
Her bare ass exposed and she is caned. With every beating she realises she MUST do better in the future. Though secretly she realises she loves it...
Sadie loves to be punished. She's a very bad girl and deserves everything she gets!! Her boyfriend loves to wrap her tight titties in tape, then using his expert skills bind them with rope. He tightens until her tight titties have turned purple.
Tieing her hands to a bar behind her back he makes her sit over his knee. There he begins to spank her, as hard as he can. He gags her mouth with an old sock to stop her yelps.
Finally pushing her onto the floor - he rips off her pantys and fucks her. Harder and harder, she can't scream even though she wants to. This dirty slut will be punished everyday...
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