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#Breathless
thehopefulquotes · 3 days
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It’s sad to fall asleep. It separates people. Even when you’re sleeping together, you’re all alone.
Breathless, Jean Luc Godard
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pandiongames · 1 day
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Our brand new apocalyptic mystery TTRPG has launched on Backerkit!
Substratum Protocol is a solo+ survival mystery TTRPG utilizing step-down dice and card draw mechanics, Substratum Protocol is playable as both a solo game or guided by a GM.
If you are familiar with our Hints and Hijinx system (Waffles for Esther, Hamsters and Himbos, etc) then this multiplayer mystery will feel familiar!
Make sure to check out the campaign to get the free preview PDF!
The preview includes the first 38 pages of the book. It contains all the rules and how to play, but does not include any of the information about the mystery, clues, knowledge questions, the sectors' events and descriptions, or the character folios.
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With players taking on the role of Earth's best remaining scientists, Substratum Protocol is our entry into the Deep Delving Mystery genre (like Subnautica and In Other Waters). 
On their grueling journey to the center of the Earth, members of the Substratum Expedition will overcome challenges, gain clues and knowledge of the interdimensional portal, discover creatures, aliens, cosmic horrors, and ultimately assemble their final hypothesis to overcome the apocalypse looming before them.
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The game intertwines hard science fiction with the inescapable, unknowable horrors of an interdimensional portal tearing apart reality.
Features
Purpose-built for solo and multiplayer mysteries
Unique dice and card draw resolution mechanics
Take special Actions whose outcomes can chain together
Collect beaten cards during Skill Checks to power your suit's abilities
A self-contained story, with unlimited possibilities and outcomes
Quickly build unique and interesting characters at the table
36 unique clues to discover, 36 questions to answer
10 sectors to explore, each one stranger than the last
120 events and encounters to surprise and stump your players
Build the Last Hypothesis: When they have learned all they can, the scientists must pour over their knowledge of the portal, construct the Last Hypothesis and enact their plan. Will it be enough?
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Made by an All-Star Team of Creators
We've assembled a fantastic team to bring Substratum Protocol to life, including the group behind the wildly popular dwarves in space TTRPG, Stoneburner by Fari RPGs
Illustrations by Galen Pejeau
Editing by Eric Lazure
Developmental Editing by René-Pier Deshaies-Gélinas
Layout Direction from Tony Tran
Writing and Design by Andrew Boyd
Promotion by Alex from Backerkit
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frenchnewwaves · 3 months
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Le Petit Soldat
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shihlun · 7 months
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Jean-Luc Godard
- A bout de souffle
1960
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bwallure · 5 months
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BREATHLESS | À BOUT DE SOUFFLE (1960) dir. Jean-Luc Godard
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thoughtkick · 2 months
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It’s sad to fall asleep. It separates people. Even when you’re sleeping together, you’re all alone.
Breathless, Jean Luc Godard
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7thartheaven · 3 months
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"When we talked, I talked about me, you talked about you, when we should have talked about each other."
À Bout de Souffle (1960), Jean-Luc Godard
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blackrosesandwhump · 5 months
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You know what I love?
That rough, sudden, strangled gasp a character makes when they wake up from being unconscious or dead.
Delicious whumperflies 🖤
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poetrybyonur · 1 month
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There are times when she needs to breathe, and there are times when all she wants is for you to take her breath away. A true gentleman will know.
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honeygleam · 5 months
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breathless (1960) dir. jean-luc godard
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raven-runes · 5 months
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I don't want
just to kiss you
I want to shake
your very foundations
leave you breathless
on the edge
of mortality
give you a taste
of immortality
or maybe
I just want to kiss you
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thevelvetgoldmine · 11 months
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BREATHLESS (1960) dir. Jean-Luc Godard
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365filmsbyauroranocte · 7 months
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20th Century Nostalgia (Masato Hara, 1997)
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perfectquote · 2 months
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It’s sad to fall asleep. It separates people. Even when you’re sleeping together, you’re all alone.
Breathless, Jean Luc Godard
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thesistersarcheron · 2 months
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Pairing: Elriel Rating: E Word Count: ~4k Tags: PWP, Smut, Outdoor Sex, Feral Behavior, Dominant Azriel, Slight Degradation Kink, Forbidden Love & Secret Relationships, Established Relationship, Post-ACOSF, princess (derogatory), princess (affectionate) Summary: After Rhys reiterates his orders from that wretched Solstice night months later, Azriel snaps, and Elain quite happily earns herself a new nickname.
The long-awaited sequel to Breathless!
Read this fic on AO3 or check out a snippet under the cut.
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The heat of high summer threatened to roast Azriel alive as he flew over Velaris. His shadows shrouded him from the worst of it, cool and mistlike where they lay against his skin, but even they could not fully shield his exposed wings from the sun’s furious glare.
Keep your hands off of my fucking princess.
Rhysand’s voice still echoed in his mind, the memory a fresh hell that was certain to haunt Azriel during his sleepless nights.
If you can’t get your mind out from between her legs, then you could at least pretend to have a shred of respect for her position.
Clenching his jaw against the fury gathering in his throat, Azriel tucked his wings, angling for the ground. Nosediving through the air was reckless, thoughtless—a move that would have gotten him whipped as a novice if any war camp commander had seen—but he savored the wind that stung his eyes and tore at his hair.
This rush of adrenaline felt better than the vicious, lung-shredding unworthiness clawing at his insides. That feeling had sunk its talons into him in his cell beneath his sire’s keep and held on all his life, through wars won and promotions earned and centuries of pining for a female who never wanted him back. 
And just when he thought he might have shaken it…
Now that Nesta has publicly accepted her bond with Cassian, Elain is the closest thing the Night Court has to a princess. And I won’t let you ruin the opportunity in front of us with your cock.
It was back.
In an instant, Az was just a nameless bastard again, clothed in rags and kept secret behind a door locked from the outside. A small, weak boy who had only scarred, ravaged hands and shadows that drove him near to madness to his name. 
He burned to think of the way Rhys’s cold eyes had pinned him to his seat in his heavily warded study in the House of Wind—black, empty pits of night void of any trace of stars. Though Azriel put everything he had into reinforcing the walls of ice around his mind, a ravenous, beastly feeling had stirred at the sight of the disdain in his brother’s expression.
Hell, he’d almost had to rustle his wings just to remind himself that they were no longer two emaciated, useless things hanging limply off his back for well over five centuries.
He had held off though—barely. If only so Rhys didn’t witness that moment of insecurity.
You know better than anyone how many eyes are on her. I won’t have her dragged through the scandal sheets every week like Cresseida and the Vanserra brothers. I expect you can respect that, at the very least?
Azriel could. The gossipmongers of Prythian had better spies than most governments. He could only imagine the malicious horse shit they would sell on every newsstand and street corner if they got the faintest hint of a rumor about the High Lady of Night’s quiet, reclusive sister.
The ground rushed toward him, but he waited until his shadows cried out in fright to snap open his wings. Every muscle and tendon in his back screamed with agony as he caught the wind, pulling out of his dive with a low groan.
While you were gone, Elain expressed a desire to take a more active role in the politics of this court. She cannot do that if she is embroiled in a fucking feud between my spymaster and the gods-damned Autumn Court.
Azriel, stupid with rage, had opened his mouth then. Can’t she? Feyre’s reputation hardly suffered after being caught between two High L—
Even now, with the wind roaring in his ears and his own wingbeats defeaning him, Azriel could hear the ear-splitting CRACK! as Rhysand’s hands slammed onto the desk he so rarely used.
The desk he only used when he wanted to speak to Azriel alone these days. 
Keep your hands off of my fucking princess.
The snarling command played on a loop in Azriel’s head.
And here he was, soaring low over the rooftops of the city, so easily identifiable in his leathers and Siphons. 
Reckless. 
Stupid. 
Everyone would see him.
People would talk.
He didn’t give a single shit.
He glided over the theater district, the Rainbow. The shadows whispered of shady dealings at the Palaces as they quickly passed beneath him—more insider trading from the governors, apparently, and Azriel tucked the information away for later—and gave way to the Sidra, which snaked down to the grander estates on the river’s eastern banks…
Neat, manicured hedgerows and alabaster stone crept into view.
Azriel hadn’t originally planned to go back to the River House at all after Rhysand summoned him out of the city for a meeting in the House of Wind. It was too risky, knowing Feyre would be home from her evening stroll to put the baby to bed by then. But his head went quiet at the sight of freshly trimmed rose bushes and clean-swept gravel paths. 
His feet touched down between the dahlias and the petunias.
And there she was, wielding a spade against the weeds that had terrorized her rhododendrons since the spring. It was undoubtedly hard work; as he watched, she sat back on her heels and swept the back of her hand over her glistening forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt on her smooth brow.
Elain, the shadows sighed fondly, forgetting the hell Azriel had just put them through.
One, a bold ribbon of utmost darkness, cooed, Princess.
As if Elain could hear the damned things calling to her, she turned her eyes toward him, squinting into the sun. Azriel’s chest squeezed with tenderness as her full lips formed a smile for him. Just for him.
“Azr— Oh!”
Azriel was upon her in three steps, falling to his knees in the cool patch of dirt beside her and hooking an arm around her waist. With his other hand, he took hold of her wrist, disarmed her in a swift, gentle twist of his. He tossed her spade into a bed across the gravel path. 
Better not to have sharp objects anywhere near her right now.
Her tinkling laughter trickled over him like water, a moment of cool relief from the sweltering day. ”Azriel, what in the world brought this on?”
He didn’t say a word. 
He wound the thick length of her hair around his fist and kissed her. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was clashing teeth and bruised lips and sharp, possessive nips until he tasted precious metal on his tongue. 
--- Continue on AO3.
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sonjackcarl · 3 months
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