Flicka

Flicka flicka flicka! Here you are. Cata cata cata! Caterpillar girl. Flowing in. And filling up my hopeless heart. Oh never never go. Dust my lemon lies. With powder pink and sweet. The day I stop. Is the day you change. And fly away from me . You flicker. And you're beautiful. You glow inside my head. You hold me hypnotized. I'm mesmerized ... Flicka offers a range of Scandinavian inspired products ideal for your baby and children's nursery. All our products are organically sourced and eco-friendly from re-usable nappies, wooden toys, 100% organic cotton clothing, nursery decor and baby accessories. Flicka 20 Overview. At the extreme of ‘go small, go simple’ is the little Flicka 20. At an incredibly small 20 feet, few other boats can claim proven blue water capabilities. Flicka has crossed the oceans of the world, weathered severe storms and survived groundings on reefs with little damage. Flicka 20 is a 24′ 0″ / 7.3 m monohull sailboat designed by Bruce Bingham and built by Westerly Marine and Pacific Seacraft between 1974 and 1999. Directed by Michael Mayer. With Alison Lohman, Tim McGraw, Maria Bello, Ryan Kwanten. Young Katy claims a wild horse as her own -- an effort to prove to her father that she is capable of one day taking over the family ranch. Flicka means 'girl' in Swedish and is pronounced 'fleek-a'! We are a women's clothing boutique with top brands and styles located in the heart of www.historicdowntownpoulsbo.com . We are located at 18901 Front St., Poulsbo, WA 98370 Flicka on the Web:Official Website. Movie Tags:horse. Similar Movies. Cowgirls n' Angels. A group of rodeo trick-riders recruits a young girl to join them. La gran aventura de los Gnomos.

Sweden

2008.11.11 09:42 Sweden

Hej and wälkommen to Sweddit! The hub for Swedes on reddit and our community here! Visiting redditors from elsewhere are also welcome! This subreddit is moderated after the reddiquette and these community guidelines https://www.reddit.com/sweden/wiki/community_guidelines
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2011.01.08 06:16 People Person's Paper People

Why waste time watch many show when one show do trick?
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2009.08.11 10:20 micketh Sverige

[link]


2020.09.28 17:52 EmDickinson Spooky Booty Challenge Starts October 1st!

Hi all!! So excited to see that we have what looks like over 100 participants for Spooky Booty! Weeks run Thursday-Wednesday, with the last few days of the month open for BONUS BOOTIES! Make sure that you're getting adequate rest and stretching!
Here is the structure we're working from:
SPOOKY BOOTY CHALLENGE 2020
Week 1: 4 of any of the 10 minutes classes, see this doc for options (thanks u/summrbaby!)
Week 2: 2 of any of the 10 minute classes, 2 of any of the 15 minute classes
Week 3: 2 of any of the 15 minute classes, 2 of any of the 20 minute classes
Week 4: 3 of any of the 20 minute classes, 1 of any of the 30 minute class
BONUS ROUND 29th-31st:
Do 2-3 of any of the 30 minute classes! (Remember to rest and stretch)
Live Group Strength classes: I'll be keeping my eye on the strength schedule this week to identify an option for Saturday live classes we can use as a group. Use #SpookyBooty2020 to filter when we have those! Suggestions? Comment below!
Checklist: https://imgur.com/a/gUkwRS1 (thanks u/Imaginary-Grade1550!)
Printer-friendly Checklist: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Q8ug4GpRlPIzGCyEZSj7ikf_PotqLKgT/view?usp=sharing (thanks u/50by25!)
We will have a weekly check in thread to chat and encourage each other! If a particular workout kicked your ass (ha!), posts with details on that class are also helpful.
Interested in participating and not listed below? Make sure that if you're interested you use the tracking tab on the spreadsheet (here) and input your reddit username and leaderboard name so you can be tagged in the weekly check-in threads!
Participants so far:
u/EmDickinson
u/courtoh
u/Runnermum
u/marlz11
u/girlawakening
u/Saramechell
u/Imaginary-Grade1550
u/jask89
u/HappyThreatening
u/yellowappy
u/fillidemelandroni
u/cadusn
u/NerdsAnd4LetterWords
u/LAXbro___
u/itsmegidget123
u/Addendum_Horror
u/Amber5Lynne
u/hattads
u/kethyar
u/jojonnie
u/50by25
u/superp0ny
u/aanchables
u/TayDiggs1212
u/welsh_green
u/Novqueen
u/bobina87
u/allofthe_snacks
u/acut3angle
u/tooscaley
u/TLS0909
u/apitbullpatronus
u/mtm023
u/MsMonoply
u/CCPiper225
u/DunniganAlley
u/meatballstro
u/Khalypso
u/jennamfeo
u/sharethemilkshake
u/MoosewellCO
u/newyork_newyork_
u/girliecd2
u/INFJ_Divergent
u/London1125
u/CORaZI
u/hanrah876
u/triceratoshee
u/OklahomaGirl1984
u/FuzzyLaughter
u/mytelephonereddit
u/bertoliz
u/jennyfarthingg
u/annabug9
u/rara649
u/theminimusprime
u/sms818
u/univalveacorn57
u/conchitalinda
u/overmedium_
u/Moonmajik34
u/plsq
u/bb2030
u/jonniearr
u/UrKittenMeBro
u/elvispresley1313
u/meowteor
u/barefootflipflop
u/ManHoleMuncher
u/hail_chimpy
u/ishould_besleeping
u/jillsleftnipple
u/liberali
u/aquarius26
u/trepanner45
u/SEphotog
u/stormyb4calmy
u/misforamazing
u/forsavinglinks
u/dirtymartini83
u/PoodleMama07
u/Zarlasht415
u/hanavbarton
u/bubbagumpofcats
u/SandraD04
u/full0116
u/eversothea
u/Cachita28
u/sarahagogo
u/spumoni620
u/jenwetzel
u/bril6527
u/donofdons21
u/erinfleming33
u/nicaraguayenne
u/b_ray_illini
u/mosie143
u/itsbetterthanbutter
u/Applejx2023
u/mowels
u/hibou
u/USCgamecocks
u/sparklekitteh
u/br0_m0ntana_
u/WayTooSweaty
u/xxche11ybe11y
u/Ally0cj
u/emmitchington
u/VlookupLover36
u/hooti_hooo
u/bcw429
u/PatMac68
u/summrbaby
u/bcw429
u/atdanaj
u/martylikestoparty810
u/lunal0vegood17
u/et3ruiz
u/pelotonwife
u/YouSeeLALikeABruin
u/PowerUp13
u/Rc2photo
u/Cooploops096
u/GloomyPapaya
u/Stephieand
u/hail_chimpy
u/Puzzleheaded_Toe6676
u/ChaoticPandaKat
u/mgnwfy
u/twomblycat
u/kittyalliecat06
u/twomblycat
u/kegoslegos
u/drdrrr
u/maggieroseallday
u/classicbasic
u/Ally0cj
u/buscia
u/lizzsumm
u/mebby2530
u/ChelseyKelsey
u/LASwae
u/colorsfillthesky
u/gub117
u/myusernameisuphere
u/joesmanbun
u/erinna_nyc
u/Addendum_Horror
u/caffeine-and-books
u/flowinq12
u/tinalouwhooo
u/zoeyzuma
u/PsychBabe
u/false_goats_beard
u/goosesmama87
u/gold_pandas
u/kelleebellee
u/deustch327
u/LennieTheLurker
u/seemoj
u/BlueWater84
u/FeinySwitz
u/kbbacher
u/courtney623
u/wallna
u/frozenc02
u/misforamazing
u/chailatte_gal
u/hibou
u/peoplehatingfloof
u/luckxurious
u/RunSpineWineMama
u/wesmikel
u/curlyloca
u/fillidemelandroni
u/ivyivym
u/meooowlinda
u/m329
u/laurenkelene
u/NeonGrey27
u/elkayez
u/univalveacorn57
u/slayerintraining
u/lignumvitality
u/eyoste
u/dawnofreba
u/Netflixreader
u/emilybrett
u/Bearta80
u/toomanydetailsfrank
u/GoodBettaBest
u/MiaCatShaw
u/finkydink
u/elatz27
u/squeegmonster
u/Sylaqui
u/anb77
u/chrm737
u/paigeworthy
u/FraggleRed
u/cowley_ash
u/Odd_Requirement_4933
u/bobina87
u/circumspice_
u/FoodOnMySleeve
u/lizardpplarenotreal
u/blovaird
u/Dinkin__Flicka_
u/vivaeltorito
u/ams1796
u/CookiesAndBiscuits
u/zarkshark15
u/gigimarie90
u/lindzeep
u/heath3rr
u/catiepark
u/ecj129
u/mfveronica
u/geese_in_flight
u/FartsAreFreeStars
u/itsmesues
u/AllOutAB
u/LaLaHooHa
u/avernathy
u/BellaFiat
u/throwaway11121993
u/hooti_hooo
u/CarefulOpposite
u/Sue_spins
u/SunriseJazz
u/PoodleMama07
u/susanhashotpants
u/iamahungrycactus
u/scoutandatticusfinch
u/JasmineDragon22
u/Mykaelahy1
u/imnotcoherent
u/corsair234
u/skiddlesalad
u/ElephantPuzzler
u/umeditor
u/lanezzle
u/toteskewl28
u/acut3angle
u/Mmbwayne
u/Spiritual-Anteater
u/lamejora
u/Dolphinblue1225
u/moofigator3000
u/howgreatwasthat
u/macaracashasha
u/Sarindre
u/savor_the_positive
u/ho_hey_
u/DinoSpum0ni
u/babyfeverttc
u/girliecd2
u/bigt252002
u/mediocrepresident
u/endlesspostcards
u/a_grades
u/nolongerlurking22
u/indola27
u/mintgiraffes
u/Courtknee_
u/jesshanebury
u/Sharp_Pear_Alas
u/jessicagerbil
u/pieceofpizzaz
u/aspect-creatio
u/spacecadette126
u/mrs_burk
u/b_ray_illini
u/bodakmelllow
u/lucillebluthatl
u/Clemenstein22
u/dyma97
u/AshNicole1120
u/mike_p1284
u/ThatsSoHermione
u/raggasoldier
u/aspect-creatio
u/dolphinsmiles
u/lemonbalm1974
u/Jemmadc
u/itsbetterthanbutter
u/briarch
u/bravochem23
u/SerialQuitter
u/TaylorB123
u/tsalagii
u/br0_m0ntana_
u/cupcaketattoo
u/AGirlInTheCityy
u/osarah
u/queerkatmanor
u/Vervain7
u/Puzzleheaded_Toe6676
u/barefootflipflop
u/jennamfeo
u/NerdsAnd4LetterWords
u/Lululovez
u/anonmarmot17
u/Project-MKULTRA
u/Kay312010
u/TheToiletStore6
u/Reneevsg
u/goldenberry27
u/jailhouselawyertx
u/DayAryante
u/ElephantPuzzler
u/jenzie1123
u/afirebrand
u/brilala
u/Seattletrojanman
u/PistolPeteJr32
u/LilUltraPower
u/jenzie1123
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2020.09.28 16:23 Vedovati_Pisos Top 10 cavalos mais caros da história

Os cinéfilos admiram filmes como “A Mocidade é Assim Mesmo”, “O Corcel Negro” e “Beleza Negra”. Alguns filmes populares tratam da história de cavalos selvagens que foram domesticados, como “Flicka” e “O Encantador de Cavalos”.
Este último estrelou Robert Redford, que também apareceu em “O Cavaleiro Elétrico”. E há filmes também de cavalos famosos, como “Seabiscuit”, “Phar Lap” e “Shergar”.
Os aficionados por corrida conhecem certamente os cavalos que dominaram as pistas. Além do mencionado Phar Lap e Seabiscuit, são destaques, Citation, Red Rum, Secretariat, Seattle Slew, John Henry e Desert Orchid. E claro, o Man o’ War, cavalo muito famoso.
Enquanto Secretariat e Man o’ War podem ser os cavalos mais famosos, os mesmos estão longe de representarem maior valor. E nesta seleção estão os 10 cavalos mais caros da história. Confira!
10° Stay Thirsty – US$ 500.000
Stay Thirsty venceu 5 corridas e ganhou quase US$ 2 milhões em sua carreira. Sua linha de pedigree vem de Bernardini e Marozia. É disponível para reprodução por US$ 20.000.
E seu preço de US$ 500.000 é uma apreciação acentuada dos US$ 160.000 pagos pela Glennwood Farm em 2009 Keeneland, quando tinha apenas 1 ano de idade. Um agente ofereceu meio milhão de dólares para Scanlon Training Center pelo cavalo em 2010, na venda Fasig Tipton, Florida.
9°Lord Sinclair – US$ 1.6 milhões
Lord Sinclair foi um cavalo da Alemanha que classificou 4 vezes para o German Federal Championships. Lord tem uma sobrecarga de desempenho de genes, e tem mais de 20 proles aprovadas, e as mesmas têm mostrado desempenho ao vencer campeonatos. Este cavalo é conhecido por sua marca nobre e movimentos de dança.
8°Poetin – US$ 3.3 milhões
Em 2003, Poetin foi julgada como campeã do World Young Dressage Horse Championship. E vem de uma linha de Sandro Hit e Poesie, o campeão do World Dressage Horse de 1999 e o Hanoverian Stallion of the Year 2003, respectivamente.
7° Sardar – US$ 3.5 milhões
Sardar foi um cavalo lendário e famoso, não apenas por suas vitórias em corridas, como também por estabelecer recordes. Durante sua carreira, o cavalo foi capaz de definir um total de 8 recordes que seguiram inquebráveis por um longo tempo.
O cavalo era tão popular que uma vez teve uma audiência com a então primeira-dama Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy (foto), a esposa do então presidente dos Estados Unidos, John F. Kennedy.
6°Pine Chip – US$ 4 milhões
Pine Chip foi um cavalo premiado. Aos 3 anos de idade, venceu uma série de concursos, a incluir Stanley Dancer Trot, Colonial Trot, Kentucky Futurity, Matron Stakes Final, entre outros.
5° Mystic Park – US$ 5 milhões
Mystic Park vem de uma linha de Noble Gesture e Mystic Sign. Aos 3 anos de idade, venceu uma série de competições, a incluir Dexter Cup, Historic Dickerson Cup e Yonkers Trot. Em 1982, Lana Lobell comprou o cavalo por montante chocante de US$ 5 milhões.
4° Seattle Dancer – US$ 13.1 milhões
Seattle Dancer foi provavelmente o sobreano mais caro já vendido em leilão público. O puro sangue irlandês veio de um estoque em destaque, muito impressionante.
Entre suas principais vitórias, se destacaram Gallinule Stakes e o Derrinstown Stud Derby Trial, ambos em 1987. E se tornou então um garanhão, servindo para reprodução em Kentucky, Irlanda, Japão e Alemanha. Ele foi pai de 37 vencedores de vários jogos.
3° Green Monkey – US$ 16 milhões
Green Monkey é um puro-sangue americano que detém o recorde mundial de preço por um cavalo vendido em leilão. Ele foi comprado durante a venda Fasig Tipton Calder em 2006. Sua linha inclui Forestry, Storm Cat, Magical Masquerade e Unbridled.
Infelizmente para os novos proprietários, Green Monkey provou ser um fracasso de corrida, competindo somente 3 vezes com um terceiro lugar final, sendo sua melhor performance. E ganhou um pouco mais de US$ 10.000. É agora disponível para reprodução, com os proprietários cobrando uma taxa de apenas US$ 5.000.
2° Annihilator – US$ 19 milhões
Annihilator veio da linhagem de Niatross, o vencedor do Little Brown Jug e Meadowlands Pace em 1980, e Wish Me Wings. Annihilator foi considerado um cavalo muito atlético que possuía muito ritmo, que vários proprietários de cavalo de corrida valorizam. Além de ser um cavalo muito bom para apresentação em eventos, porque tinha uma bela crina chocolate escuro.
1° Shareef Dancer – US$ 40 milhões
Shareef Dancer foi um puro-sangue americano estabulado em Godolphin Stables of Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum, na Inglaterra. Sua impressionante linhagem incluiu Northern Dancer e Sweet Alliance.
Ele participou em corrida por 5 vezes, vencendo 3 vezes, ficando em segundo lugar uma vez. Suas vitórias mais impressionantes foram no Irish Derby Stakes e King Edward VII Stakes, ambos em 1983. E foi também declarado como o Middle Distance Horse UK de 1983. É o damsire do Dubai Millenium, e ocupa posição líder na seleção dos 10 cavalos mais caros da história.

https://www.vedovatipisos.com.bnoticias-artigos/top-10-cavalos-mais-caros-da-historia/
submitted by Vedovati_Pisos to u/Vedovati_Pisos [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 09:41 Gludens Sextonde söndagen efter trefaldighet

TEMA
Döden och livet
LITURGISK FÄRG
Grön
ALTARDEKORATION
På altaret ställer vi blommor i blandade färger och vi tänder två ljus.
Bibeltexter
GAMMALTESTAMENTLIG LÄSNING
Job kapitel 14, vers 13-15 Om du ändå ville gömma mig i dödsriket, hålla mig dold tills din vrede lagt sig, glömma mig, men blott för en tid — kan en som har dött få liv igen? — då skulle jag hålla ut på min post tills min avlösning kom. Du skulle ropa på mig, och jag skulle svara, du skulle längta efter den du skapat.
EPISTEL
Filipperbrevet kapitel 1, vers 20-26 Jag väntar och hoppas att jag aldrig skall stå där med skam, utan att jag nu som alltid öppet skall våga lovprisa Kristus med min kropp, vare sig den skall leva eller dö. Ty för mig är livet Kristus och döden en vinning — såvida inte ett fortsatt liv här på jorden ger mig en vinst genom mitt arbete, för då vet jag inte vad jag skall välja. Jag slits åt båda hållen: jag längtar efter att bryta upp och vara hos Kristus, det vore ju det allra bästa. Men för er skull är det viktigare att jag lever kvar här, det är jag övertygad om, och jag vet att jag kommer att bli kvar och stanna hos er alla för att hjälpa er till framsteg och glädje i tron. Och genom mig, genom att jag kommer till er igen, skall ni bli allt stoltare över att tillhöra Kristus Jesus.
EVANGELIUM
Markusevangeliet kapitel 5, vers 35-43 Medan han ännu talade kom det bud till synagogföreståndaren från hans hem: ”Din dotter är död. Du skall inte besvära Mästaren längre.” Men Jesus, som hörde deras ord, sade till föreståndaren: ”Var inte rädd, tro bara.” Sedan lät han ingen mer än Petrus och Jakob och hans bror Johannes följa med, och de gick hem till föreståndaren. Där såg han upprörda människor som grät och klagade högt. Han gick in till dem och sade: ”Varför ropar ni och gråter? Flickan är inte död, hon sover.” Då skrattade de åt honom. Men han körde ut allesammans och tog med sig flickans far och mor och lärjungarna och gick in där hon låg. Så tog han barnets hand och sade: ”Talita koum!” (det betyder: Lilla flicka, jag säger dig, stig upp!). Och genast reste sig flickan och gick omkring, hon var tolv år gammal. De blev utom sig av förvåning, men han förbjöd dem att låta någon veta vad som hade hänt. Sedan sade han åt dem att ge flickan något att äta.
PSALTAREN
Psaltaren psalm 107, vers 18-22 De ville inte se åt någon föda och närmade sig dödens portar. Då ropade de till Herren i sin nöd, och han hjälpte dem ur deras trångmål. Han gav en befallning och botade dem och räddade dem från graven. De skall tacka Herren för hans godhet, hans underbara gärningar mot människor, de skall frambära tackoffer och berätta om hans verk med jubel.
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2020.09.25 22:13 PeanutZealousideal5 Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets a Fuck in Forest (09 20 20)

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/444s3df9g/h32234s

submitted by PeanutZealousideal5 to u/PeanutZealousideal5 [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 20:39 PeanutZealousideal5 [Creampie-Angels] Flicka Luchik - Hottie gets a fuck in forest (20 09 2020) rq mp4

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/444s3df9g/h32234s

submitted by PeanutZealousideal5 to u/PeanutZealousideal5 [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 07:24 Adorable_Grocery_855 Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets A Fuck In Forest - 09 20 20

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/file/Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets A Fuck In Forest - 09 20 20

submitted by Adorable_Grocery_855 to u/Adorable_Grocery_855 [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 03:33 Snoo_614233 Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets A Fuck In Forest - 09/20/20

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/file/Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets A Fuck In Forest - 09/20/20

submitted by Snoo_614233 to u/Snoo_614233 [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 01:31 Snoo-590159 Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets a Fuck in Forest (09 20 20)

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/444s3df9g/h32234s

submitted by Snoo-590159 to u/Snoo-590159 [link] [comments]


2020.09.23 14:48 DefinitionNo9154 Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets A Fuck In Forest - 09 20 20

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/file/Flicka Luchik - Hottie Gets A Fuck In Forest - 09 20 20

submitted by DefinitionNo9154 to u/DefinitionNo9154 [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 19:46 HooptyDooDooMeister Please downvote or ignore - this is a test

With Survivor filming for seasons 41 and 42 indefinitely postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic, EW is reaching back into the reality show’s past. We sent a Survivor Quarantine Questionnaire to a batch of former players to fill out with their thoughts about their time on the show as well as updates on what they’ve been up to since. Each weekday, EW will post the answers from a different player.
When you tell someone you haven’t even really met that you love them, and you do it on national television, it can tend to cause a bit of a stir. And that’s exactly what happened when Billy Garcia misinterpreted Candice Woodcock’s friendly gesture and professed his love for her on Survivor: Cook Islands. It immediately made Billy the butt of jokes when the episode aired back in 2006.
“When I first saw it, I felt I got the cruelest, harshest edit ever,” says Billy. But the former heavy-metal loving wrestler eventually realized that the entire ordeal was actually a blessing in disguise. “Now I look back and understand that it was maybe one of the most memorable edits ever. You have to have very thick skin to get that edit and still show your face at Survivor events. I think most people could not have handled it the way I have. My elimination took on a life of its own. Instead of caving under the weight of it, I've turned it into a vehicle for some amazing things, with charity work being at the top of the list. Some past players have found their harsh edits to be more than they can handle. I've shined my brightest since the edit I got aired. I've earned a lot of street cred with other Survivor players because of how I've handled it.”
Much like in the way Erik Reichenbach has never run from his infamous immunity idol giveaway on Micronesia, Billy has had the strength and good sense of humor to embrace a moment that may have permanently scarred other players. And he shows that strength and sense of humor throughout his Quarantine Questionnaire. Read on to learn how Billy was actually SET ON FIRE during the first Cook Islands challenge, and prepare yourself for the best ending to a Quarantine Questionnaire we have ever seen.
Survivor
MONTY BRINTON/CBS PHOTO ARCHIVE VIA GETTY IMAGES ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: First off, give the update as to what you’ve been up to since appearing on Survivor.
BILLY GARCIA: I've stayed busy with my band, Forsakken. We've released two albums and are working on our third. We have a new lead singer, which is exciting. The exposure of my time on Survivor has helped my music career, as most would imagine. I think the main boost has been with album sales. I've also participated in 146 different charities thanks to being on Survivor. It's been a blessing to be able to touch so many lives.
The charity is easily the top thing I didn't expect to come from my time on the show. But I'm glad. I wouldn't trade any of the charity work I've done for anything. So, between the band and the charity, eventually that left no time for my pro wrestling career. I had matches after Survivor, but eventually I had to let it go to make room for all of the charity work I do. I believe that it's probably for the best. Pro wrestling is painful. And pain hurts. Ha.
What is your proudest moment ever from playing Survivor?
I guess my proudest "in game" moment is that I was given many chances to quit and I didn't consider a single one. I even told a couple of tribemates that I'd rather die out there than quit. There has been a slew of quitters since I've played. It's not easy out there. I try my best not to be too judgmental of those that tapped out. But I'm proud that I held my ground and didn't throw in the towel.
My proudest "out of game" moment is how well I've represented Survivor by being super fan friendly. Fans are the life blood of Survivor. Without them, Survivor doesn't exist. By being so fan friendly I feel like I've made a contribution to Survivor after my time. Maybe that's all in my head, but that's how I feel about every past player that interacts with fans.
What is your biggest regret from your Survivor experience?
I like to live life with no regrets. Of course, there are things I could have done better. But everything happens for a reason. If things would have played out differently, maybe I would have gotten farther, but maybe I would have been long forgotten by now. Ha. I'm sure that there would be some sort of trade-off. You know, that butterfly effect thingy. I'll admit that I worried more about the TV show Survivor than I did the game Survivor. But that was the era I was in. I was expected to be a big character by the powers that be. I guess I could've ignored them and focused more on game play and got farther. But that's not a regret. That's experience gained.
What’s something that will blow fans’ minds that happened out there in your season but never made it to TV?
Wow, where to begin. I guess the biggest thing not shown that involved me directly was getting set on fire during the first challenge. I don't blame anyone for it. I've never sent lawyers after anyone or thrown a tantrum over it. I view it as bad luck. During the first immunity challenge, Cristina went to step on a platform in the water that had a barrel of kerosene on it to light a torch for later in the challenge. The platform dipped and some of the kerosene spilled on my backside. Later in the challenge after the torch was lit, we had to assemble a ladder and climb up it to light a caldron signifying we won.
Well, a part of the ladder disassembled and that halted my assent. Cristina didn't notice and kept climbing. She ended up lighting my kerosene-drenched shorts on fire. I remember Jeff Probst yelling "Billy's on fire! He's engulfed in flames!" I didn't even scream. My reaction was "that figures." Maybe that reaction didn't make good television. Maybe they were worried about legal issues. Or maybe that didn't fit the narrative of the story they were telling. I don't know why it wasn't shown.
If you compare my shorts in the first episode and the second episode, you can see I'm wearing different black shorts. I could have quit and everyone would have understood. I'm proud I played on and made no excuses. Cristina has apologized profusely since then. She's such a good person, I feel more for her than I do for myself.
How do you feel about the edit you got on the show?
When I first saw it, I felt I got the cruelest, harshest edit ever. Now I look back and understand that it was maybe one of the most memorable edits ever. You have to have very thick skin to get that edit and still show your face at Survivor events. I think most people could not have handled it the way I have. My elimination took on a life of its own. Instead of caving under the weight of it, I've turned it into a vehicle for some amazing things, with charity work being at the top of the list. Some past players have found their harsh edits to be more than they can handle. I've shined my brightest since the edit I got aired. I've earned a lot of street cred with other Survivor players because of how I've handled it.
What was it like coming back to regular society after being out there? Was there culture shock or an adjustment coming back?
When I first arrived home, my family noticed how quiet I was. They speculated a lot about what I might have witnessed or what might had happened to me. I honestly don't know if it was PTSD or if I was tired from having my personality cranked to eleven. Maybe it was a little of both. I don't know. But I bounced back after a few days. You can't keep me contained for too long. Ha.
Was there ever a point either during the game or after you got back where you regretted going on the show?
I am so glad that I was on Survivor. It's a gift that keeps on giving. I've met so many wonderful people and have done so much good with the charity work. I have absolutely not regretted being on Survivor. It's been nonstop fun doing all of the podcasts, autograph sessions, viewing parties, and activities. Thanks to being on Survivor, I've done things I would have never had done otherwise like playing Ice Soccer. It's as crazy as it sounds. I'm part of this over the top fraternity/family. I have friends of literally every walk of life. And I've made some money along the way. Regret being on Survivor? Never! Puey on that thought.
Whom do you still talk, text, or email with the most from your season?
Cristina and I are great friends. She's such a cool person who shares my fondness for charity work. She's so generous with her time and is so fan friendly. Cristina is a hero for more than just her time as a police officer. Cao Boi and I have stayed friends as well. He's cut from a different cloth too, so we relate to one another a lot. Stephannie and I also have stayed in touch and see each other at events as well. That's my top three.
But on social media, I interact with Flicka, Adam, JP, Cecelia, Nate, Jonathan, and Sekou from time to time amongst other. Recently I did a group zoom call with many on this list plus Jenny and Ozzy as part of a mini Cook Islands reunion. It was great catching up and reliving the experience. We did not argue. There was no animosity. I'm not surprised. Our season had some very wonderful people in it. I lucked out being a cast member of Cook Islands.
Do you still watch Survivor, and if so, what’s your favorite season you were not on and why?
I never miss an episode. I've watched every season. My favorite season is Heroes vs. Villains. It has so many of my favorite players on that season. It was a high-level game with great character arcs. Season 20 would be a season I would show non-fans to convert them. It's a theme that should be repeated someday. Maybe for season 50? Hmmm?
Who’s one player from another Survivor season you wish you could have played with or against and why?
I wish I would have played with Phillip Sheppard, The Specialist. He was such a fun character to watch. His antics were over the top and super memorable. And he somehow managed to balance that with game play. That is something I wished I would have mastered when I played. Phillip made the most of his time on the show. I would have loved to have been a part of Stealth R US. I wonder what code name I would have gotten. Maybe Six String or something like that. Can you imagine me and Phillip on the same tribe? That would be pure comedy gold. Tell me I'm wrong. I could have fallen in love with the bushido code. Or did he call it the booshoodoo code?
If you could make one change to any aspect of Survivor, what would it be and why?
I know I'm a big character. That's what got me cast on the show in the first place. So I naturally want to root for the big characters. But we don’t get the time devoted to developing their story arcs like before. I would balance the edit of characters arcs and game play a little better. What made Survivor such a big mainstream hit in its early days was that it showcased its characters. I understand that the hardcore fans love seeing the strategic game. But sometimes I wish that we would see more people stuff so that I could be more emotionally invested. Maybe it’s time for Survivor to go to 90-minute episodes so that there’s enough time for both. I’m probably just coming up with an excuse for more Survivor. Ha.
Finally, would you play again if asked?
Hell yes I would play again. When do we leave? I've got 20 more of these tribal skull t-shirts ready to go. My prize isn't the million dollars. My prize is that I fell in love. Her name is Survivor! Ha.
To keep track of our daily Survivor Quarantine Questionnaires and get the latest updates, check out EW's Survivor hub, and follow Dalton on Twitter.
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2020.09.22 12:19 _vinpetrol 2020-09-22 Nattens nyheter: 2 skjutningar

Nya grova brott Källa
Skott avlossade mot lägenhetsdörr - Stockholm aftonbladet
Sommarstuga beskjuten - Stockholm polisen
Grov mordbrand - Älmhult svt
Grov misshandel - Göteborg expressen
Andra brott samt övriga nyheter
24-åring misstänkt för mordet på Kjäll Gustafsson - Gislaved svt
16-åring gripen för mord på 16-åring - Eskilstuna aftonbladet
Clown med machete jagade tonåringar - Bollnäs expressen
Flera sabotage mot Kustpilen - Småland svt
Mamman vädjade om att få ett nytt utseende expressen
Våldsfilmen hittades i beslagtagen telefon - Malmö expressen
Våldtog 12-årig flicka – låtsades vara rånare expressen
Åtal: man misshandlades och bestals på hund - Smögen svt
Dubblering av handlare som utsatts för hot eller våld på 3 månader friatider
Platsbristen akut – Kriminalvården går upp i stabsläge dagensjuridik
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2020.09.21 18:35 nyhetsbubbla Flicka våldtas i centrala Stockholm sent på fredagskvällen, en misstänkt man grips av polisen på lördagskvällen

Flicka våldtas i centrala Stockholm sent på fredagskvällen, en misstänkt man grips av polisen på lördagskvällen submitted by nyhetsbubbla to bubbla [link] [comments]


2020.09.20 23:58 GroundbreakingRich15 40 100% Creampie Angels - Flicka Luchik

DOWNLOAD LINK: megafile3.top/file/40 100% Creampie Angels - Flicka Luchik

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2020.09.20 10:12 jrtherealiiist Another Firme Flicka Of The Young Homies in Redwood City (650 Hoods: ESM RRG FON VERA)

Another Firme Flicka Of The Young Homies in Redwood City (650 Hoods: ESM RRG FON VERA) submitted by jrtherealiiist to CaliBanging [link] [comments]


2020.09.19 07:35 nyhetsbubbla Syrisk man döms till fängelse och utvisning i tingsrätten efter att ha våldtagit 12-årig flicka som lurats till asylboende i Åkersberga där gärningsmannen befinner sig, nämndeman Gunilla Bergström (MP) anser mannen istället ska dömas för sexuellt utnyttjande av barn och slippa

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2020.09.18 23:01 WrittenDisease Chronicles of Noctra: Chapters One and Two

Hey all! I am just here posting the first two chapters to a novel I have been working on for a while, up to twenty two full chapters, and way too many notebooks full of info! I am posting both together because they were originally one and it seems to read better with both available? Either way I just hope you all enjoy it and would welcome any feedback.

Chapter One:
Log 001. Year 4,165.
He found me a month ago. My father.
On a busy road in the slums, full of other starving people
I tried stealing food from his personal guard. I got cocky and stole bags for others, I overextended and nearly paid the price. He was inside a nearby shop. When he came out, he killed all his guards and swooped me up in his arms. He looked me in the eyes and cried
“My child, sweet child, oh how fate is kind.”
Blood littered the streets, but we were pristine.
I keep this journal now because I’ve seen things here;
Things that need to change.
-Change,
Mezir De Blancana
A hooded figure walked alone down the remnants of Blancana’s slums, layered cloaks of grey causing him to look like nothing more than a shadow from afar. Bandaged from head to toe without space even for eye holes, his framework lens sticking out on one side, he was sure to be an ominous sight to any looking from the towers above him. Or so he hoped.
In case any lookouts had been particularly blessed with healthy vision, the figure made sure to hide his blades and framework hands floating above smooth, severed wrists beneath his cloak. He didn’t want them to be too prepared for his arrival. All they needed to see was a specter coming from the wreckage of a once-great world.
The bandaged man wanted them all to fear before they felt the wrath of his blades or strength of his will. Too long had they lived in peace, benefiting off of the eradication of his people, comfortable in their grand, new world. Replete with essence and irredeemable ignorance.
A world he continued to find increasingly empty. All around him silence shuddered with the winds of Noctra as they shook the gargantuan Wilders in a gentle dance. Aside from small beasts lurking nearby, and a young woman who crept behind him at the Wilder’s edge, there was no one.
Just outside the massive white walls that cut Blancana off from the Wilders and the rest of Noctra, he stopped to survey the area. According to the leather-bound book in his worn pouch, the slums used to be lively and full; dilapidated without a doubt, but nowhere near as gutted as the street he stood in. An emptiness that had become familiar to him since he had left the Northern mines months before and traveled the length of Noctra. Just as with every city and settlement he had passed on his journey, fragmented and frozen remnants of their former glory, there was no one near the Wilders.
No one on the outer side of the wall.
Gone were the days when every stall was littered with colorful vagrants, vagabonds, or starving citizens; no longer did children prance about with dirty faces and soiled clothes. Merchants had abandoned all structures around and left them to nature’s whim. Nothing was left beyond the imposing city border but sand, tar-like mud, and rubble overgrown with Wilder-vines and Lunamoss, which had begun to glow as nightfall approached. The Grand Councilor had been busy molding the world to his image for the past ten years and that image left no room for the undesirable.
It seemed Lord White feared Noctra’s natural blessings.
Admittedly, the wrapped man would’ve much preferred the coverage of growth and shade in the unending forests to open streets held within ominous confines, though he had become increasingly cozy with discomfort. He found ways around it, ways to use it to his advantage.
The large open streets constructed of recently placed marble, surrounded by glaring granite buildings adorned in gold and crystal terrified him undoubtedly; but it made using his Ta’ Sevin, Venerable Sight, much easier. Even though he was born with the sight and accessed it regularly throughout his youth, there were some times it was nearly impossible to discern one essence from another. Noctra was home to so many.
Out in the Wilders, he could get lost in an entirely different world. In the city, however, his path could not be more concise and clear.
Knowing the sapphire glow from beneath the bandages may reach far in the encroaching darkness, the man pulled his hood lower and saw the White’s Estate, the capital of Blancana, as it truly was. As Noctra intended. His right eye could see the glow from his left for a moment before everything shifted. He was unable to reign in his heart as it bucked wildly at the sight of essence around him. No matter how many times the bandaged man saw it, he was never prepared for the sheer brilliance of it all.
Spewing from immaculate potted plants and waning weeds all the same, from the homes of nobles and the dung of their lowest subjects, essence floated in a humbling display. He could even see it seeping from solid stone, as if life from long ago still lingered, whispering it’s will.
Emerald danced from over the border wall, cascading onto the streets below and swathing them in a dull green mist. Sapphire ambled aimlessly from the ground, entwined with an energetic salmon pink that swirled around the blues and shot skyward. None ever faded, only mixed. Only created.
The bandaged man had to shake his head and breathe deeply before he could focus. See past the beauty and find the reds. Ruby, crimson, scarlet. Signs of sentient life. If one could call a servant of Lord White sentient; the man struggled to see how they could be. Only brainwashed or afflicted puppets could support such a cowardly, bloodied empire. He made note of how similar the towers were to the oaks of the Grand Wilder’s just outside the border, their only true difference being the large symbol of the White on the front of each monstrosity.
There weren’t many, six towers, five Watchers each that he could see actively patrolling, and of those few, he couldn’t see any that had faint lines running from their heads. They had no comms. There was no point in suppressing his smile. This sector was nearly empty aside from the scattered personnel and drunken residents that littered the streets outside nearly any establishment offering ale. He had to assume equipment was dismal and organization weak. The guard evidently didn’t expect many visitors from the southern entrance, it being so close to the thicket of Wilder’s and all.
Too easy.
After some time of standing out in the open surveying this bizarre and primitive form of wilderness, he was finally spotted. A single swirling mass of red essence had begun darting towards a set of stairs that led down, and eventually into, the wall; presumably to the nearest guardhouse, which meant it was time to move.
Those above didn’t seem to be well equipped which was entirely unsurprising. He doubted anyone could make a shot at him from so far above, whether with arrows or essence. A blessing that did not go uncounted as he reached the threshold of the gateless border and relinquished his sight, fading once more into darkness.
Careful to keep his cloak pulled tight enough to hide the myriad of blue, yellow, and green strewn across his many bandages, the man cast a slight illusion with his essence, making it seem as if shadows swirled beneath his clothing and his feet did not touch the ground. In part to protect his identity, should anyone surprise him, though mostly because he knew it would tighten the throats of any guards unfortunate enough to spot him.
Unlikely any would, not before he wanted them to anyway, but it never hurt to be prepared.
His prey would see the shadow of death come upon them before being welcomed into soundless eternity and that pleased him more than he cared to admit. He’d never much relished in violence; before, at least. Something had awoken in him since Lord White had stolen his peaceful life.
Something sinister.
Once Solas had completely fallen and given way to Mother Luna’s cooling light, he stepped into the borders of Blancana’s walls completely, mingling with shadows to hide his movements.
As expected the White’s guard had been alerted to a stranger coming from the WIlder entrance by a Watcher in the tower. They’d come fast and he had only made it past the first street when two of their members appeared from the nearest station, weapons drawn.
The bandaged man stayed low, silent, and still as a corpse when they walked by his position, pressed against the wall of the shop closest to him. They’d responded quicker than he had planned but that was no problem. Those above would still be watching, searching for the phantom stranger they’d seen moments ago. They would witness everything from their perch.
Any survivors’ accounts would spread terror for him. He needed this to reach the heights of Blancana. Straight to Lord White and his Nu’ council.
Each of the passing guards wore a set of light framework armor as blindingly white as the walls of the indulgent shops, and homes, which grew more common further north. Adorned with long pristine capes bordered in gold, leather hung from their shoulders and various other areas.
Straps for quick release should they need to dump their burdens, he assumed.
Their faces remained unencumbered by masks which told the hooded man they were not of very high rank in The White’s army.Still, they could be used to send a message.
On the left was a shorter, slender man with gray sprinkled in his massive beard and long, unkempt hair. Obviously wielding years of experience and fading muscle beneath his shiny armor. His skin seemed aged and excessively pale.
On the right was a stout woman with a shaved head and ageless features, her cheeks burning red with the warmth of ale on her caramel skin. Tattoos aglow with essence lined her skull.
Both held long, curved blades in their hands, ready to fight a ghastly nightmare from the Wilders or, more likely, terrorize a weary traveler. The sun soaked woman chuckled as they passed by, nudging the paler elder man with drunken gusto. Her unused scabbard swung violently against a nearby bin, making the older man jump and blush. Somehow it made him look older.
“I can’t believe they interrupted our cogk…. Cocksuggin’ break, for this!”
Her companion grunted in response, seemingly agreeable, though a stern lip indicated he was more than a bit annoyed with how loudly the woman was expressing her qualms. Nonetheless she carried on.
“Loog..even if this is an old coo- agh, coot or drunken bastard, I am letting off some steam tonight”, her voice rose gradually as she spoke, swinging her blade side to side erratically, to the man’s obvious discomfort.
Her slurs made the statement more than a touch ironic.
“You may want to calm yourself a little there Jen, could be the last of the Nomad waiting for us. Waiting for their revenge. We don’ did a good number on em’ these past few years, damn square is about filled with those rotten suckers. Pa’ always knew they were freeloaders, but never doubted how vicious they were. Could be we are in for some trouble now.” The man slowed and his partner followed.

Chapter Two:
They stayed quiet for a moment, stopping to turn and look at one another as if to peer through the silence around them. Pausing for three heartbeats before they each burst into hideous laughter-
“Or maybe-” she was nearly yelling now, “one of those ‘Venerable’ Ta’-urds come back to haunt us, huh? Boys up top said it was like a specter. Ooh.
While the bandaged man did not find this last jibe to be funny in the slightest, he was pleased his ghostly image had come outright. The stout, obnoxious woman couldn’t help from snorting at herself. The older man chuckled softly and shook his head as he started to walk again.
Such wit and charm between the two, the bandaged man had considered letting them make their way home with a simple message on their tongues; albeit very briefly. They’d obviously been reveling in prospects of another easy night, which made what he had to do that much simpler. That much more gruesome.
Just as necessary.
There would be no fantastic battle to be had. No. Under a mystifying aqua light from the radiant Luna above, mixed with the calming sounds of native whistling flicka-flies, Blancana would bare witness to an astounding massacre. He would not allow his own dread or kind heart to stay his cold, metal hands.
He’d heard enough sneaking alongside them within the shop’s gracious shadows to determine they’d be suitable to deliver his first message. To announce his arrival. They’d taken to calling him The Silent One as of late and he wanted everyone to know he had finally arrived to take down their Grand Councilor White.
Their bloodthirsty God would fall.
The radiant duo appeared experienced enough to rightfully have earned watch on the night shift, unsupervised. Though, common enough to be left without masks. No marks of legends of accolades to decorate their being. Nothing compared to those he had taken down before.
Those who had stood in the way of his horrid vendetta, years in the making.
As they neared the towers and fewer shadows were available due to the canopy of torchlights overhead, he rose and began walking towards the pair with an even, relaxed stride. No sound followed his footfalls. The fact that the lights were created using techniques developed by his own people did not escape him. It gave him a tainted sense of familiarity. Rage welled inside of him like a swollen tick, begging to bust within his wrapped body; still, every step remained silent.
He allowed his cape to slowly fall open in waves of shade, revealing the intricate, colorful design of a Dreadbeast’s outer hide on the inner fabric of his cloak. A vibrant canvas of orange with multiple blue lines and spots of speckled purples and greens. Marks of an alpha mother.
Made only more intense by the bright lights, his visage was entirely clear to those on the towers above who could do nothing to warn their comrades below but shout over fierce winds.
“Behind-”
“Gods’ damned specter right… run-”
Comms wouldn’t be given to those stationed in such a rundown area it seemed. They were hardly expected to deal with much. Either that or they weren’t Es-Adept enough to operate them.
He felt blessed no matter the reason. Mother Noctra had given him with her support in those roaring gusts.
The wailing of the Watcher’s traveled down a line of scouts above, down the myriad of stairs about the towers, which eventually elicited an uproar of stomping feet as others began charging down the way. Coming from the station Jen and the older man had left no doubt. Expedient response for soldiers in such a delinquent area but he knew it would not matter. They were ill-prepared for the wrath of the Ta’.
Even with his venerable sight deactivated the bandaged man could tell there were no Es-Ad casters around. Some might be able to make a pretty flare or sting a little, but they were poorly outmatched. Their glows were faint as they approached from behind.
No masked champions or captains in sight.
The two inebriated guards only laughed and jeered in their peers’ direction, assuming some large prank afoot no doubt.
Jen exploded into a scarlet red fervor when the older man dropped his trousers to match the pale light of the Mother Moon above.
“Oi, turn that ole father moon around Desril!” A younger guard approaching with the oncoming group scarcely broke through the fierce winds billowing about. Chuckling despite himself.
Silent One heard the young man’s heart pounding.
They were distractible, unalert, prey and he was a starved hunter ready to pounce. Filled to the brim with a confused vengeance and sullen soul. It would be quite the spectacle for the onlookers above which gave him a sick pleasure. One he struggled to choke down in silence, restraining a cry of primal rage he was sure would fade to laughter and tears before long.
Mother would never have wished for this.
He’d been taught peace and compassion. To always choose life over death, but now was no longer the time for such things. It tormented him greatly, but not near so much as the thought of the White running free. Unhindered by his numerous sins.
The moment they turned to face him the two guards shared in but a fraction of the horror and suffering he had endured at the hands of Grand Councilor White.
That he endured with every fleeting breath.
All for progress. Silent One levitated atop the ground summoning a fierce gale of his own.
His spread cape painted sheer terror across the hairy older man’s face, obviously aware of the pattern and implications it brought. Perhaps he’d heard rumors of the vengeful spirit making its way across the Wilder’s Edge on a guard killing spree, likely he could just know a thing or two about ven-dreadbeast, but the stout ageless Jen looked utterly confused.
A sweat broke out atop her smooth scalp at seeing Dresil freeze for a moment.
“Uh.. this the guy-” she was cut off by her companion who gathered enough wits to shout frantically in her ear as he fumbled with his belt buckle.
“Fucking ready your sword nitwit that’s a-”
Gasps rang out in a pathetic cry nearly as loud as Jen’s shout when the bandaged man seemed to levitate over with immaculate speed and steal the breath from Desril’s very lungs without raising an arm. No prints or tracks followed behind him. Framework hands spinning above his wrists at an alarming speed with fingers around his false palm. He watched the fear build in Dresil’s eyes before slowly tightening the grip of his will around the pale old man’s throat.
His gasps turned to a gargle and the bandaged man barely stifled tears. Blind rage, vile joy, and eternal sorrow all begging for release.
Peace to you.
A jarring crack ended the chance for the guard to ever finish his warning, silencing the old man’s wheezing strains and gurgles for good. Silent One slowly turned the dead man’s body towards Jen, still without moving his arms. Still rotating his hands in a bizarre and unnatural way. They stirred upwind that only made his cloak thrash around more violently as the seconds passed. The bandaged man matched Dresil’s lifeless eyes to the stout woman, let her see what fate had in store for her, and let it fall with a resounding thump.
She could not see his pity or sorrow and for that he was grateful. The woman only saw his supernatural fury.
Jen had sobered enough to obtain some form of understanding, for asinine terror had finally crept upon her face. The terror that lodge pain in his kind heart and fed his ravenous vengeance all the same as he turned to face the shaken woman.
Without a word, her sword clattered to the ground and Jen ran towards the oncoming crowd of her armored peers. Smart choice, he had to admit, but it was too late. A string of sickening gurgles escaped her once vivacious frame mere feet from her comrades with Silent One just behind her, arms extended to his sides while she choked on pure essence. Her own essence. All who saw knew it, for her neck was aglow with stored will. Bulging so far Jen’s neck stuck out further than her armor, veins pressing against shining skin. Blood crept out of her pores, but the skin held.
No one moved.
The woman’s face turned purple before bulging eyes popped in a sickening gush of gore and she was led into unending darkness. It was just as barbarous and gruesome as it was necessary, sending an ill feeling into his guts.
Peace to you. Please.
All those approaching stopped as her body fell face down in a rigid farewell. Swords were drawn but still or trembling. None were shouting above anymore. There was absolute silence, layered in pure dread.
I’m sorry. Silent One waited for the wind to pick up once more.
Twelve stood before the bandaged man, his cloak spread far enough to appear unnatural and phantomlike, consuming the world behind him and exposing his full visage in a swirling frame; a sight that kept all before him motionless. Paralyzed in an impossible terror; staring down a merciless spirit. He was sure a few had even stopped breathing.
It was an intoxicating feeling to hold such power over them but he knew he could not waste time with such small, tainted pleasures. Quickly he began casting down his legs, storing essence at his ankles. No glow revealing his planned cast. Nothing to warn them. A light clattering of metal could be heard as Noctra paused her rapid breathing.
There is no death without purpose.
Willing copious amounts of essence out of his feet he cast a command to bring all the guards to their knees with no words or sign of any sort. Heavy armors forced grunts and pained sounds as they slammed to the ground, dragging their wearers with them. The two nearest him, also a pair of one man and one woman, dropped their weapons as their arms bent backward.
He could see many bled from the impact of their own armor alone but none suffered such severe wounds as those two, though a gruff, scratchy scream from one of the soldiers near the back told the others of something being broken.
No life without pain.
All the guards before him held the glow of essence in their hands, bright white and yellow lights running up their forearms though none moved to cast. Not even to heal themselves. Silent One wondered if they could. He wasn’t willing against their essence at all so he knew it had to be deep-seated fear building within their very mallow that stayed their hands, held their tongues like a vice. A few wore pained expressions of shallow guilt, slowly giving way to steaming rage.
Veterans of The Fracturing, no doubt.
These veterans held the fiercest flames behind their eyes as pain began to give way to infuriated fear. Each soldier held a small amount of burning hate towards him but none looked as primal as those who had partaken in the “war”.
Another convenience for his conscience.
If he let them go now, they would surely attack, so he was required to act. Fear birthed their hate and fear made all creatures rabid if it was strong enough. People especially did not take kindly to being made to feel vulnerable in large groups, he’d come to find.
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2020.09.18 20:17 WrittenDisease Chronicles Of Noctra: Age of Legends. Chapter Two (draft).

They stayed quiet for a moment, stopping to turn and look at one another as if to peer through the silence around them. Pausing for three heartbeats before they each burst into hideous laughter-
“Or maybe-” she was nearly yelling now, “one of those ‘Venerable’ Ta’-urds come back to haunt us, huh? Boys up top said it was like a specter. Ooh.
While the bandaged man did not find this last jibe to be funny in the slightest, he was pleased his ghostly image had come outright. The stout, obnoxious woman couldn’t help from snorting at herself. The older man chuckled softly and shook his head as he started to walk again.
Such wit and charm between the two, the bandaged man had considered letting them make their way home with a simple message on their tongues; albeit very briefly. They’d obviously been reveling in prospects of another easy night, which made what he had to do that much simpler. That much more gruesome.
Just as necessary.
There would be no fantastic battle to be had. No. Under a mystifying aqua light from the radiant Luna above, mixed with the calming sounds of native whistling flicka-flies, Blancana would bare witness to an astounding massacre. He would not allow his own dread or kind heart to stay his cold, metal hands.
He’d heard enough sneaking alongside them within the shop’s gracious shadows to determine they’d be suitable to deliver his first message. To announce his arrival. They’d taken to calling him The Silent One as of late and he wanted everyone to know he had finally arrived to take down their Grand Councilor White.
Their bloodthirsty God would fall.
The radiant duo appeared experienced enough to rightfully have earned watch on the night shift, unsupervised. Though, common enough to be left without masks. No marks of legends of accolades to decorate their being. Nothing compared to those he had taken down before.
Those who had stood in the way of his horrid vendetta, years in the making.
As they neared the towers and fewer shadows were available due to the canopy of torchlights overhead, he rose and began walking towards the pair with an even, relaxed stride. No sound followed his footfalls. The fact that the lights were created using techniques developed by his own people did not escape him. It gave him a tainted sense of familiarity. Rage welled inside of him like a swollen tick, begging to bust within his wrapped body; still, every step remained silent.
He allowed his cape to slowly fall open in waves of shade, revealing the intricate, colorful design of a Dreadbeast’s outer hide on the inner fabric of his cloak. A vibrant canvas of orange with multiple blue lines and spots of speckled purples and greens. Marks of an alpha mother.
Made only more intense by the bright lights, his visage was entirely clear to those on the towers above who could do nothing to warn their comrades below but shout over fierce winds.
“Behind-”
“Gods’ damned specter right… run-”
Comms wouldn’t be given to those stationed in such a rundown area it seemed. They were hardly expected to deal with much. Either that or they weren’t Es-Adept enough to operate them.
He felt blessed no matter the reason. Mother Noctra had given him with her support in those roaring gusts.
The wailing of the Watcher’s traveled down a line of scouts above, down the myriad of stairs about the towers, which eventually elicited an uproar of stomping feet as others began charging down the way. Coming from the station Jen and the older man had left no doubt. Expedient response for soldiers in such a delinquent area but he knew it would not matter. They were ill-prepared for the wrath of the Ta’.
Even with his venerable sight deactivated the bandaged man could tell there were no Es-Ad casters around. Some might be able to make a pretty flare or sting a little, but they were poorly outmatched. Their glows were faint as they approached from behind.
No masked champions or captains in sight.
The two inebriated guards only laughed and jeered in their peers’ direction, assuming some large prank afoot no doubt.
Jen exploded into a scarlet red fervor when the older man dropped his trousers to match the pale light of the Mother Moon above.
“Oi, turn that ole father moon around Desril!” A younger guard approaching with the oncoming group scarcely broke through the fierce winds billowing about. Chuckling despite himself.
Silent One heard the young man’s heart pounding.
They were distractible, unalert, prey and he was a starved hunter ready to pounce. Filled to the brim with a confused vengeance and sullen soul. It would be quite the spectacle for the onlookers above which gave him a sick pleasure. One he struggled to choke down in silence, restraining a cry of primal rage he was sure would fade to laughter and tears before long.
Mother would never have wished for this.
He’d been taught peace and compassion. To always choose life over death, but now was no longer the time for such things. It tormented him greatly, but not near so much as the thought of the White running free. Unhindered by his numerous sins.
The moment they turned to face him the two guards shared in but a fraction of the horror and suffering he had endured at the hands of Grand Councilor White.
That he endured with every fleeting breath.
All for progress. Silent One levitated atop the ground summoning a fierce gale of his own.
His spread cape painted sheer terror across the hairy older man’s face, obviously aware of the pattern and implications it brought. Perhaps he’d heard rumors of the vengeful spirit making its way across the Wilder’s Edge on a guard killing spree, likely he could just know a thing or two about ven-dreadbeast, but the stout ageless Jen looked utterly confused.
A sweat broke out atop her smooth scalp at seeing Dresil freeze for a moment.
“Uh.. this the guy-” she was cut off by her companion who gathered enough wits to shout frantically in her ear as he fumbled with his belt buckle.
“Fucking ready your sword nitwit that’s a-”
Gasps rang out in a pathetic cry nearly as loud as Jen’s shout when the bandaged man seemed to levitate over with immaculate speed and steal the breath from Desril’s very lungs without raising an arm. No prints or tracks followed behind him. Framework hands spinning above his wrists at an alarming speed with fingers around his false palm. He watched the fear build in Dresil’s eyes before slowly tightening the grip of his will around the pale old man’s throat.
His gasps turned to a gargle and the bandaged man barely stifled tears. Blind rage, vile joy, and eternal sorrow all begging for release.
Peace to you.
A jarring crack ended the chance for the guard to ever finish his warning, silencing the old man’s wheezing strains and gurgles for good. Silent One slowly turned the dead man’s body towards Jen, still without moving his arms. Still rotating his hands in a bizarre and unnatural way. They stirred upwind that only made his cloak thrash around more violently as the seconds passed. The bandaged man matched Dresil’s lifeless eyes to the stout woman, let her see what fate had in store for her, and let it fall with a resounding thump.
She could not see his pity or sorrow and for that he was grateful. The woman only saw his supernatural fury.
Jen had sobered enough to obtain some form of understanding, for asinine terror had finally crept upon her face. The terror that lodge pain in his kind heart and fed his ravenous vengeance all the same as he turned to face the shaken woman.
Without a word, her sword clattered to the ground and Jen ran towards the oncoming crowd of her armored peers. Smart choice, he had to admit, but it was too late. A string of sickening gurgles escaped her once vivacious frame mere feet from her comrades with Silent One just behind her, arms extended to his sides while she choked on pure essence. Her own essence. All who saw knew it, for her neck was aglow with stored will. Bulging so far Jen’s neck stuck out further than her armor, veins pressing against shining skin. Blood crept out of her pores, but the skin held.
No one moved.
The woman’s face turned purple before bulging eyes popped in a sickening gush of gore and she was led into unending darkness. It was just as barbarous and gruesome as it was necessary, sending an ill feeling into his guts.
Peace to you. Please.
All those approaching stopped as her body fell face down in a rigid farewell. Swords were drawn but still or trembling. None were shouting above anymore. There was absolute silence, layered in pure dread.
I’m sorry. Silent One waited for the wind to pick up once more.
Twelve stood before the bandaged man, his cloak spread far enough to appear unnatural and phantomlike, consuming the world behind him and exposing his full visage in a swirling frame; a sight that kept all before him motionless. Paralyzed in an impossible terror; staring down a merciless spirit. He was sure a few had even stopped breathing.
It was an intoxicating feeling to hold such power over them but he knew he could not waste time with such small, tainted pleasures. Quickly he began casting down his legs, storing essence at his ankles. No glow revealing his planned cast. Nothing to warn them. A light clattering of metal could be heard as Noctra paused her rapid breathing.
There is no death without purpose.
Willing copious amounts of essence out of his feet he cast a command to bring all the guards to their knees with no words or sign of any sort. Heavy armors forced grunts and pained sounds as they slammed to the ground, dragging their wearers with them. The two nearest him, also a pair of one man and one woman, dropped their weapons as their arms bent backward.
He could see many bled from the impact of their own armor alone but none suffered such severe wounds as those two, though a gruff, scratchy scream from one of the soldiers near the back told the others of something being broken.
No life without pain.
All the guards before him held the glow of essence in their hands, bright white and yellow lights running up their forearms though none moved to cast. Not even to heal themselves. Silent One wondered if they could. He wasn’t willing against their essence at all so he knew it had to be deep-seeded fear building within their very mallow that stayed their hands, held their tongues like a vice. A few wore pained expressions of shallow guilt, slowly giving way to steaming rage.
Veterans of The Fracturing, no doubt.
These veterans held the fiercest flames behind their eyes as pain began to give way to infuriated fear. Each soldier held a small amount of burning hate towards him but none looked as primal as those who had partaken in the “war”.
Another convenience for his conscience.
If he let them go now, they would surely attack, so he was required to act. Fear birthed their hate and fear made all creatures rabid if it was strong enough. People especially did not take kindly to being made to feel vulnerable in large groups, he’d come to find.
submitted by WrittenDisease to writers [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 20:16 WrittenDisease CON: Age of Legends Chapter Two (draft)

They stayed quiet for a moment, stopping to turn and look at one another as if to peer through the silence around them. Pausing for three heartbeats before they each burst into hideous laughter-
“Or maybe-” she was nearly yelling now, “one of those ‘Venerable’ Ta’-urds come back to haunt us, huh? Boys up top said it was like a specter. Ooh.
While the bandaged man did not find this last jibe to be funny in the slightest, he was pleased his ghostly image had come outright. The stout, obnoxious woman couldn’t help from snorting at herself. The older man chuckled softly and shook his head as he started to walk again.
Such wit and charm between the two, the bandaged man had considered letting them make their way home with a simple message on their tongues; albeit very briefly. They’d obviously been reveling in prospects of another easy night, which made what he had to do that much simpler. That much more gruesome.
Just as necessary.
There would be no fantastic battle to be had. No. Under a mystifying aqua light from the radiant Luna above, mixed with the calming sounds of native whistling flicka-flies, Blancana would bare witness to an astounding massacre. He would not allow his own dread or kind heart to stay his cold, metal hands.
He’d heard enough sneaking alongside them within the shop’s gracious shadows to determine they’d be suitable to deliver his first message. To announce his arrival. They’d taken to calling him The Silent One as of late and he wanted everyone to know he had finally arrived to take down their Grand Councilor White.
Their bloodthirsty God would fall.
The radiant duo appeared experienced enough to rightfully have earned watch on the night shift, unsupervised. Though, common enough to be left without masks. No marks of legends of accolades to decorate their being. Nothing compared to those he had taken down before.
Those who had stood in the way of his horrid vendetta, years in the making.
As they neared the towers and fewer shadows were available due to the canopy of torchlights overhead, he rose and began walking towards the pair with an even, relaxed stride. No sound followed his footfalls. The fact that the lights were created using techniques developed by his own people did not escape him. It gave him a tainted sense of familiarity. Rage welled inside of him like a swollen tick, begging to bust within his wrapped body; still, every step remained silent.
He allowed his cape to slowly fall open in waves of shade, revealing the intricate, colorful design of a Dreadbeast’s outer hide on the inner fabric of his cloak. A vibrant canvas of orange with multiple blue lines and spots of speckled purples and greens. Marks of an alpha mother.
Made only more intense by the bright lights, his visage was entirely clear to those on the towers above who could do nothing to warn their comrades below but shout over fierce winds.
“Behind-”
“Gods’ damned specter right… run-”
Comms wouldn’t be given to those stationed in such a rundown area it seemed. They were hardly expected to deal with much. Either that or they weren’t Es-Adept enough to operate them.
He felt blessed no matter the reason. Mother Noctra had given him with her support in those roaring gusts.
The wailing of the Watcher’s traveled down a line of scouts above, down the myriad of stairs about the towers, which eventually elicited an uproar of stomping feet as others began charging down the way. Coming from the station Jen and the older man had left no doubt. Expedient response for soldiers in such a delinquent area but he knew it would not matter. They were ill-prepared for the wrath of the Ta’.
Even with his venerable sight deactivated the bandaged man could tell there were no Es-Ad casters around. Some might be able to make a pretty flare or sting a little, but they were poorly outmatched. Their glows were faint as they approached from behind.
No masked champions or captains in sight.
The two inebriated guards only laughed and jeered in their peers’ direction, assuming some large prank afoot no doubt.
Jen exploded into a scarlet red fervor when the older man dropped his trousers to match the pale light of the Mother Moon above.
“Oi, turn that ole father moon around Desril!” A younger guard approaching with the oncoming group scarcely broke through the fierce winds billowing about. Chuckling despite himself.
Silent One heard the young man’s heart pounding.
They were distractible, unalert, prey and he was a starved hunter ready to pounce. Filled to the brim with a confused vengeance and sullen soul. It would be quite the spectacle for the onlookers above which gave him a sick pleasure. One he struggled to choke down in silence, restraining a cry of primal rage he was sure would fade to laughter and tears before long.
Mother would never have wished for this.
He’d been taught peace and compassion. To always choose life over death, but now was no longer the time for such things. It tormented him greatly, but not near so much as the thought of the White running free. Unhindered by his numerous sins.
The moment they turned to face him the two guards shared in but a fraction of the horror and suffering he had endured at the hands of Grand Councilor White.
That he endured with every fleeting breath.
All for progress. Silent One levitated atop the ground summoning a fierce gale of his own.
His spread cape painted sheer terror across the hairy older man’s face, obviously aware of the pattern and implications it brought. Perhaps he’d heard rumors of the vengeful spirit making its way across the Wilder’s Edge on a guard killing spree, likely he could just know a thing or two about ven-dreadbeast, but the stout ageless Jen looked utterly confused.
A sweat broke out atop her smooth scalp at seeing Dresil freeze for a moment.
“Uh.. this the guy-” she was cut off by her companion who gathered enough wits to shout frantically in her ear as he fumbled with his belt buckle.
“Fucking ready your sword nitwit that’s a-”
Gasps rang out in a pathetic cry nearly as loud as Jen’s shout when the bandaged man seemed to levitate over with immaculate speed and steal the breath from Desril’s very lungs without raising an arm. No prints or tracks followed behind him. Framework hands spinning above his wrists at an alarming speed with fingers around his false palm. He watched the fear build in Dresil’s eyes before slowly tightening the grip of his will around the pale old man’s throat.
His gasps turned to a gargle and the bandaged man barely stifled tears. Blind rage, vile joy, and eternal sorrow all begging for release.
Peace to you.
A jarring crack ended the chance for the guard to ever finish his warning, silencing the old man’s wheezing strains and gurgles for good. Silent One slowly turned the dead man’s body towards Jen, still without moving his arms. Still rotating his hands in a bizarre and unnatural way. They stirred upwind that only made his cloak thrash around more violently as the seconds passed. The bandaged man matched Dresil’s lifeless eyes to the stout woman, let her see what fate had in store for her, and let it fall with a resounding thump.
She could not see his pity or sorrow and for that he was grateful. The woman only saw his supernatural fury.
Jen had sobered enough to obtain some form of understanding, for asinine terror had finally crept upon her face. The terror that lodge pain in his kind heart and fed his ravenous vengeance all the same as he turned to face the shaken woman.
Without a word, her sword clattered to the ground and Jen ran towards the oncoming crowd of her armored peers. Smart choice, he had to admit, but it was too late. A string of sickening gurgles escaped her once vivacious frame mere feet from her comrades with Silent One just behind her, arms extended to his sides while she choked on pure essence. Her own essence. All who saw knew it, for her neck was aglow with stored will. Bulging so far Jen’s neck stuck out further than her armor, veins pressing against shining skin. Blood crept out of her pores, but the skin held.
No one moved.
The woman’s face turned purple before bulging eyes popped in a sickening gush of gore and she was led into unending darkness. It was just as barbarous and gruesome as it was necessary, sending an ill feeling into his guts.
Peace to you. Please.
All those approaching stopped as her body fell face down in a rigid farewell. Swords were drawn but still or trembling. None were shouting above anymore. There was absolute silence, layered in pure dread.
I’m sorry. Silent One waited for the wind to pick up once more.
Twelve stood before the bandaged man, his cloak spread far enough to appear unnatural and phantomlike, consuming the world behind him and exposing his full visage in a swirling frame; a sight that kept all before him motionless. Paralyzed in an impossible terror; staring down a merciless spirit. He was sure a few had even stopped breathing.
It was an intoxicating feeling to hold such power over them but he knew he could not waste time with such small, tainted pleasures. Quickly he began casting down his legs, storing essence at his ankles. No glow revealing his planned cast. Nothing to warn them. A light clattering of metal could be heard as Noctra paused her rapid breathing.
There is no death without purpose.
Willing copious amounts of essence out of his feet he cast a command to bring all the guards to their knees with no words or sign of any sort. Heavy armors forced grunts and pained sounds as they slammed to the ground, dragging their wearers with them. The two nearest him, also a pair of one man and one woman, dropped their weapons as their arms bent backward.
He could see many bled from the impact of their own armor alone but none suffered such severe wounds as those two, though a gruff, scratchy scream from one of the soldiers near the back told the others of something being broken.
No life without pain.
All the guards before him held the glow of essence in their hands, bright white and yellow lights running up their forearms though none moved to cast. Not even to heal themselves. Silent One wondered if they could. He wasn’t willing against their essence at all so he knew it had to be deep-seeded fear building within their very mallow that stayed their hands, held their tongues like a vice. A few wore pained expressions of shallow guilt, slowly giving way to steaming rage.
Veterans of The Fracturing, no doubt.
These veterans held the fiercest flames behind their eyes as pain began to give way to infuriated fear. Each soldier held a small amount of burning hate towards him but none looked as primal as those who had partaken in the “war”.
Another convenience for his conscience.
If he let them go now, they would surely attack, so he was required to act. Fear birthed their hate and fear made all creatures rabid if it was strong enough. People especially did not take kindly to being made to feel vulnerable in large groups, he’d come to find.
submitted by WrittenDisease to getbetareaders [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 00:11 EchtGeenSpanjool Round 47 - 429 characters remaining

#429 - Peter Harkey u/EchtGeenSpanjool - Nominated: Caleb Reynolds 1.0
#428 - Alexis Jones - u/mikeramp72 - Nominated: Tyson Apostol 2.0
#427 -Jenna Morasca 2.0 u/nelsoncdoh - Nominated: Chet Welch
#426 - Jessica "Flicka" Smith - u/edihau - Nominated: Denise Stapley 2.0
#425 - Denise Stapley 2.0 u/WaluigiThyme - Erik Huffman
SKIP - u/jclarks074
#424 - Caleb Reynolds 1.0 - u/JAniston8393 - Nominated: Charlie Herschel

The pool at the start of the round by length of stay:
Flicka Smith
Peter Harkey
Andrea Boehlke 3.0
Ben Driebergen 1.0
Sally Schumann
Alexis Jones
Jenna Morasca 2.0
submitted by EchtGeenSpanjool to survivorrankdownvi [link] [comments]


2020.09.16 15:13 green_mms22 Dink 'n flicka

Dink 'n flicka submitted by green_mms22 to unexpectedoffice [link] [comments]


2020.09.10 11:35 nyhetsbubbla Flyg mellan Calgary och Toronto ställs in till följd av upprörd stämning bland passagerare som reagerar på att 19 månader gammal flicka vägrat bära ansiktsmask, merparten av passagerarna påstås ha visat sitt stöd för den muslimska familjen vars gråtande dotter fick hysteriskt

Flyg mellan Calgary och Toronto ställs in till följd av upprörd stämning bland passagerare som reagerar på att 19 månader gammal flicka vägrat bära ansiktsmask, merparten av passagerarna påstås ha visat sitt stöd för den muslimska familjen vars gråtande dotter fick hysteriskt submitted by nyhetsbubbla to bubbla [link] [comments]


2020.09.09 21:59 sketchAJ Dinkin' Flicka'

Dinkin' Flicka' submitted by sketchAJ to DunderMifflin [link] [comments]


Flicka - YouTube Flicka: Country Pride - YouTube Flicka: Country Pride - Meet Flicka  20th Century FOX ... Flicka 3 Pelicula Completa En Español - YouTube Tim McGraw - My Little Girl - Flicka (Official Music Video ... Chedda Da Connect - Flicka Da Wrist - YouTube Flicka - YouTube Cowgirls Don't Cry-Flicka - YouTube Flicka- there youll be - YouTube Flicka 2006 Official Trailer - YouTube

Flicka A Modern Scandinavian Baby & Toddler Nursery Boutique

  1. Flicka - YouTube
  2. Flicka: Country Pride - YouTube
  3. Flicka: Country Pride - Meet Flicka 20th Century FOX ...
  4. Flicka 3 Pelicula Completa En Español - YouTube
  5. Tim McGraw - My Little Girl - Flicka (Official Music Video ...
  6. Chedda Da Connect - Flicka Da Wrist - YouTube
  7. Flicka - YouTube
  8. Cowgirls Don't Cry-Flicka - YouTube
  9. Flicka- there youll be - YouTube
  10. Flicka 2006 Official Trailer - YouTube

Edit: Just so you guys know, i know you can hear the movie in the background I did it like that for a reason it makes it sound more dramatic. This is a dedic... This is an inspiring, coming-of-age story featuring an all-star cast including country music star Tim McGraw, Maria Bello and Alison Lohman. This Video contains footage from the movie Flicka. This is just another example of how I put together music and video to create its own story for a thrilling... Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube. Sixteen year old Katy McLaughlin (Alison Lohman) is a strong-willed teenager who hopes to one day take over her father's ranch. But when Katy finds a wild mu... From the pages of Mary O'Hara's popular novel My Friend Flicka, the year's most inspiring coming of age story arrives just in time for Mother's Day when Flic... When Toby (Clint Black) takes on a managing job at a boarding stable with Flicka in tow, the owner's teenage daughter Kelly (Kacey Rohl) quickly bonds with t... Coming of age story set in the mountain vistas, A headstrong 16 year old Katy McLaughlin desires to work on her family's mountainside horse ranch, although h... I do not own any part of this video. This is a really nice song my Tim McGraw from the movie Flicka. :) I hope you guys like it! Wooh, 90,000 views. Music video by Chedda Da Connect performing Flicka Da Wrist. 2015 Entertainment One U.S., LP