Reflection cannot be seen in Boiling Water.
Solution cannot be seen with a Disturbed Mind.
Cool down & you will find Solution for your Problem.
The Office Job: Chapter 8: Lunch Rush
FMJ BLT: $13.50
The deli place was in the middle of a cluster of bars and towering glass hotels squeezed between two convention centers off the highway. The back parking lot connected to a grocery store, a high-end strip mall, and a half-built building with hotel tendencies but bankish potential. It’s bare drywall and exposed cement caught the sun under a towering crane.
Luke was parked in a spot next to the outside seating area. He had his SIG rattler, a short assault rifle chambered in .300 blackout, in his lap and the seat as far back as he could have it and still drive. He was hidden in the shadows, near invisible thanks to the tint. The smell of onion rings and citrus flavored Friday lunch cocktails came in the barely opened sunroof, along with echoes of loud brags and laughs from people who made enough money to vacation in Fiji three times a year, but not enough sense to order something other than bad quesadillas and sour mix margaritas from restaurants whose greatest achievement was keeping its customers from realizing it was a chain. Luke hadn’t eaten since those drive thru breakfast burritos around eight. He hoped they’d have time to run in and grab something after they killed the guy.
Philip was the only person in the outside seating at the back. His table was close to the car and his back to the passenger seat. He fully expected just to pop the guy while he was looking at the menu, but there was no reason not to give Luke line of sight just in case. He ordered a grilled chicken “club” sandwich with potato salad and a beer from a waitress with pupils shrunk by the roxy she had taken between orders. Her eyes reminded him of neon green sliced pickles so he ordered some fried ones.
He lit the half-smoked cigar and thought about what he would say to Lindsey after it was over. A different server came out to remind him that you couldn’t smoke anywhere in this god damned state anymore, but Philip had finished it and put the end out before the poor guy was halfway across the tables.
“My food done yet?”
“You-, uh no, not yet. You can't smoke here, Sir.”
“Alright.” The silence begged for a crow caw or something. The guy walked back across the tables and ran into one of the chairs and the sound bounced around in the alley. That would have to do.
“Theresa ever check in? Did she tail him?” Philip said quietly behind his beer.
“Nope. If she did, she hasn’t told me.” Luke said in his ear.
“Guess she’ll be missing out.”
“You kinda cut her out on this one.”
“She’s the one who wanted to ride solo. And what was I supposed to do, sit around and wait for her to sneak in the air vents?”
“Might have been nice to have some back up if he doesn’t come alone.”
“What, you scared of a little killing?”
Luke didn’t respond. Somewhere, down the alley or on another block, someone had brought out a sizzling plate of fajitas and the smell was demanding all his attention.
Paul had his driver drop him off in the grocery store parking lot down the alley from the restaurant. He walked as casually as he could, pretending to text. He glanced up at the tables and saw a guy in a black tracksuit and a Burberry trench. All money, no class. There was his client all right. Paul took a right as soon as he got to the restaurant and went through the brushed steel door.
“Think that’s him going inside.” Luke said.
Philip looked up from his food and watched the guy with faded frat house features stroll into the door like he was coming home. He had on stained light blue oxford and khaki slacks with a pale gold tie
“Good disguise for an area like this.” Philip said.
“Go hit him and let's go.”
“Nah, I'm gonna wait.”
“What? Shit, I'll do it.” Luke unbuttoned his suit jacket and started to tuck the Rattler under it.
“No, you won't. He’s coming to me. Just wait. You might spook him.”
“You haven't been on this end of things in a bit, man, but let me tell you, shit never stays this clear for long.”
“He's coming out now.” Philip said behind his beer.
Paul opened the glass door and looked across the tables. The guy in the tracksuit waved and smiled. Something clicked in his mind and he remembered seeing him at one of Davis’s parties months ago. That didn’t mean this couldn’t be a set up, but it made him feel a bit better. Still, he would let the guy talk until he felt confident enough to make a deal. He waved back and walked towards the table.
A car turned the corner to Luke’s left and came down the alley. It was a high-end sedan with two office bros in the front seat, but he switched the Rattler from safe to auto and pulled out the stock just in case. He pressed a button and the sunroof started sliding open as he moved the seat back.
Philip watched Paul weave through the seats as he pushed the fried pickles across the table with his left hand and switched the safety off the P365 in his pocket with his right. He could taste the payday.
It all happened in under two seconds. The car pulled into the handicap spot on Luke’s left side and two men stepped out of the car with MP5 submachineguns already shouldered. He had no choice but to let loose through his own window, filling the cab with glass, smoke, and casings.
Philip had leveled his pistol when a burst of gunfire hit the table in front of him and sent food and glass flying. He got something in his face and sent two rounds into the windows of the restaurant. The auto sound dampening kicked on in the ear buds and muffled his hearing.
He turned back to yell at Luke and saw two men collapse on either side of a car and Luke stepping out of the SUV with his rifle raised. When he looked back, Paul was gone. Shit. He wiped the beer and ranch off his face and cut his hand on a piece of glass. Paul’s foot disappeared under a table to his left as tires squealed down the alley.
A black SUV tore up the distance to the grocery store lot. A figure came out of the sunroof and his face flashed as bullets tore into the tables around Philip. He hit the ground and rolled toward the SUV. Luke twisted in his seat and fired through the passenger window into the charging SUV and the gunner dropped down. The 30 caliber rounds put big white circles in the windshield but didn’t penetrate.
Philip emptied the mag into the outdoor bench seating Paul had disappeared behind and visualized the bullets zipping through his chest. When sound returned, he heard Paul scrambling across the sidewalk.
He dropped the gun and moved to the MP5 laying on a body next to the SUV.
Luke slapped in a fresh mag as more rounds came out of the black SUV, now about twenty yards away and still barreling forward. He put half the mag into a five-inch circle on the SUVs windshield right in front of the driver. It still didn’t shatter but the SUV turned sharply to the left and braked into a parking space behind a work truck. Luke continued to put rounds through the truck and waited for someone to step around it. In the silence, broken in places by screams bouncing off the alley, another car revved its engine.
The restaurant shared a small seating area with a yogurt place at the other end of the lot. It had little two seat tables and connected the parking lots on either side of the building. A fiat 500 jumped the curb in the front parking lot and sped through the seating area at forty miles per hour and took a sharp turn into the tables towards Philip. He dove behind the car that had carried the first two corpses. When he looked up, he saw Paul disappear behind the building before he could raise the MP5 to get a shot on him. Gunmen got out of the Fiat and Philip instinctively flipped the selector to full auto and fired in bursts as he stood up into a shooting stance, then leaned into it and dumped the rest of the ammo in a single controlled burst. One of the men dropped dead and the other two moved behind the car. As he tried to pull a mag out of the pouch on the body next to him, one of the gunmen behind the fiat let loose with an ungodly rate of fire and Philip ducked back behind the engine block on one foot as rounds slapped off concrete and thunked through the car.
“They miss me. They miss me.” Philip recited the mantra in his head and slid the driver seat of the sedan forward and wedged the gas pedal down with the MP5, then jumped out of the way. The car hopped the curb and sped through the thin metal fence and tables until it crashed into the other Fiat.
Luke slithered into the passenger side and kicked open the door. He saw an armed man moving low from behind the other SUV and took him out with three rapid trigger pulls. The car on the other side of him revved over the curb and shoved the little red fiat five feet across the patio. In the reflection of the restaurant glass, he saw two men collapse behind it.
He climbed back in the SUV, went over the center seats and out the door on the driver’s side. He got low and kept his feet behind the tire and aimed around the front of the SUV. Another shooter moved down the sidewalk around the work truck, aiming where Luke had been moments before. He fired five times and the shooter collapsed.
Philip stood up as fast as he could and scanned the restraint through the jagged window frames. Paul was nowhere to be seen.
“Shit!” said Philip.
“Where is he?” Luke loaded a fresh magazine.
“In there, I hope.”
Luke took one step towards the restaurant and two cars screeched into the parking lot on the other side of the building. Gunmen poured out and opened fire through the shattered windows and tables erupted in bursts of fries and soda and honey mustard. Luke and Philip snapped down, moved back, and returned fire. Philip emptied his mag and put a panel of wall between him and the shooters.
“Moving!” he yelled and ran for the SUV as Luke covered him. When he got to the driver’s side, he opened the heavy, armored door, took cover behind it and returned fire. Luke moved and made it to the passenger seat. When Luke started firing, Philip got in the driver’s seat and backed out to the right, cut it to the left and floored it as Luke put more fire through the restaurant. He turned a hard right around the corner while Luke reloaded with movements like a hummingbird. As they came out from the other side of the building, Luke fired as fast as his trigger finger would let him and the gunmen opened up like a small army.
“Fuck!” Philip yelled. Rounds hit the SUV like hail as they sped out of the lot and took a sharp right on the access road. They stopped with the grass slope at the bottom of the parking lot between them and the shooters.
“I saw him! He got in a car!” Luke yelled as he reloaded. “A grey sedan.” There was blood on his hands.
“You hit?” Philip asked. Luke ignored him and raised his weapon towards the lot just as a grey sedan zoomed onto the access road ahead of him.
“Fucking catch him!” Luke yelled, sending shells over his shoulder. More gunfire cracked from the lot as the shooters moved up. Philip peeled out and a stray bullet came through the window, bounced off Luke’s chest plate and clattered across the dashboard.
“Why didn't you have them armor these god damn windows!” Philip yelled.
“I always have to shoot out of them!”
Someone leaned out of the sedan and let off a burst that put three small white circles in the glass. Philip’s heart skipped a beat.
“At least you let them armor the windshield.”
Luke dropped his seat back and rolled into the center row. He pulled a net down from around the sunroof, stood up in the middle of it and opened fire.
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The Office Job: Chapter 7: Panik
Slaving away, hoping for a half day
Paul slipped through the fence where one of the bars had fallen off at the welds, the same gap he had used to sneak a girl in afterhours weeks ago. She had an office kink and came dressed like a fifties secretary. He bent her over Todd’s big L desk and her moans sunk into the fabric cubicle walls and thin carpet.
His use of it now was less glamorous. Yesterday’s rain had stirred up rust on the bars and he got a big orange smear on his shirt. His Uber driver pulled up across the storm ditch just out of camera view. It was one of those white round SUVs all the milfs drive, but his driver looked like a substitute teacher.
“Hello! Would you like a water or some gum?” He said as Paul crawled in like a coal miner escaping a collapse. The interior smelled of the tropical scented air freshener clipped to the ac vent. Paul closed the door hard and looked around to see if anyone who looked like law enforcement had seen him.
The driver got more concerned the longer he looked at him. Paul still had the lit blunt in his mouth and the thermos lid open. The sharp slap of near undiluted whiskey beat back the pudgy scent of fake tropical fruits.
“Hey man, come on, you can’t smoke that in here.” He talked like a substitute too. Paul frowned and put it out in the ashtray. The driver turned around in his seat and rolled down the windows.
Paul drank from his thermos and watched the office park flow away like something caught in a power wash. If this guy on the phone was legit, he could probably stay out of state for a while. Maybe find some other jobs until it all died down. Or just live out there. Or leave the fucking country. He was seeing beaches and sex when his phone rang. It was Todd, so he silenced it and let it go to voice mail then went into the hidden settings and hit the big red button. It killed his GPS and anything else that might bite him in the ass and put his phone into standby with the ghost OS. He put it in his pocket and took another drink. Good luck fuckers. He was as good as gone.
Gradie saw the gun waiting in the bag every time his mind drifted off. He worked on auto pilot. Numbers flew out of his mouth and his fingers fluttered on the keys but there was nothing in his brain but jail cells and court appearances. He glanced at the timer. On hold 16 minutes. His shirt peeled off the chair as he stood up, expecting to see cops marching down the aisle. Just the same spread of browns and greys, someone leaning on the door to a cubicle office, laughing over their coffee. He sat back down and decided to look in the bag again. Maybe he had imagined it.
When he reached in, his fingers felt cold plastic. He snatched his hand away and zipped it closed. It must be hot. Some meth head dropped it into his bag yesterday when he left it out in the car, and now he was sitting at work with a murder weapon. He had to get it out of the office. If he got caught with it they would raid his house, search his computer, find all his journals and poems and figure “Yea, this guy was gonna shoot up the place and got cold feet”. He would be on the news. All the family he never talked to would call and he would never get another job again. Never get laid again either. You only got the fan mail and shit if you actually killed someone.
He wiped sweat off his forehead and tried to take deep breaths.
Maybe he would just get fired, keep it quiet. Get a job working fast food or in a warehouse. Might not be so bad having a job that was anything but what he did now. His breathing slowed, and he watched himself work a thousand other jobs in a thousand other worlds and live a thousand other lives until he forgot where he was or what he was afraid of.
Suite 1003: Adrenaline Junkies with Guns, LLC.
Bolton sat in the corner of the conference room and leaned his forehead on the windowpane. Glass towers blended chameleon like into the sky and cars inched across the highway. Offices, restaurants, condos, parking lots. All those people. He usually didn’t have time to think about it, but now…
One of the Operators came in looking like any other office worker. It was so convincing that Bolton thought he had the wrong conference room. The door shut behind him like an air lock as he stopped dead, frozen by Anthony’s glare.
“Were you monitoring when he got a call?” Anthony’s voice was like a building collapsing.
“Uh, yea, about lunch?”
“What did he say?”
“He just made plans with someone for lunch. Something about money. Probably for his drug gig. What? Were you not on that?” He looked around. Anthony stepped towards him. He was six and a half feet tall and built like a powerlifter. His shaved head said ex con, but his suit whispered CEO.
“Where was he going and with who?”
“I don’t know. I only got his side. I don’t get the recordings off his cell. Isn’t it encrypted?”
It was. The team hadn’t thought about trying to monitor it because a tap would be another point of failure, and they had a lid on everyone who knew the number. Or so they thought.
“You didn’t hear any names?” said Anthony.
“No, wait, yeah it was, uh.” He hugged himself and looked at the floor, then up at the humming fluorescence above him, trying to remember. Anthony just watched him.
“Oh, it was Davis! That’s that guy in claims, right? No shit that’s David. Maybe—”
“Who is Davis?” Anthony asked the room.
One of the operators typed frantically into a laptop.
“He's a former client of Paul’s. From a year ago. “
“Were any of you aware of his existence before hearing his name just now?”
No one breathed. There was a clamor of sighs and exhales as everyone realized what happened.
“Anyone on action team go hot and get on the road. Intel, get into his phone and find him. Everyone else get set up, but don’t spook the scenery. Let them fire first. Exit team on me.”
Everyone moved at once. Some went out the doors while others slid the top of the conference table back and grabbed guns out of the slots.
“So, are we done with this place?” One of the operators whispered after Anthony had stepped out.
“Yep. We’re outta this bitch.” Another one said as he holstered a pistol.
“Why? If we can take them out why not just stay here?”
“Because they tracked us already. It's better just to start from scratch. They’ll just send in another team.” The operator slid an Origin 12 and two drums into his work bag.
Bolton went out the door without grabbing anything. If he got to the boiler room fast, he might get to use that SAW after all.
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Are you ready for Dragon Raja x Evangelion?
Are you ready for Dragon Raja x Evangelion?
#DragonRajaSEA #DragonRaja #Archosaurgames #MMORPG #gamingtwt #Evangelion #エヴァンゲリオン
The “Angels” are coming, it’s time to suit up! Dragon Raja x Evangelion
Creating a graphically stunning fantasy open MMORPG world is definitely not an easy task, especially a gigantic and immersive one that really gives you the feeling of free movement and the choice to really create your own adventure. I know this first hand because I have been thinking of going into game development…
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This was a song that was brewing in my head for years, but up until now I wasn't able to get it out of my dreams and into the sheet music. It's been a while since I did a war related track and this one while initially action themed, has a tinge of horror. The song itself is a march that's meant to be played in a loop. Each instrument added is another person marching along with the first foot soldier.
The bloody footprint next to the helmet is not meant to be a fallen soldier or an enemy, but rather the people truly behind wars. Governments, the Rich and Powerful. Anyone who's wallets get lighter the more there's peace.
I don't know why, but after listening to this song once finished, I felt a sense of dread and regret. As though I created a monster. Which in a way I did. My God what have I done!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!?
Movie Review of Thunder Force, available on Netflix in April
Predictable humor but my kind of stupid cheesy fun. I am in the minority on that though according to all the reviews on IMDB … I don’t care, I love THE CRAB!!
Added to list: They Have the Power
Special Features👑: Twins: https://www.imdb.com/review/rw6797680💩 Alert: Super hard to choose here but this one is actually 6 paragraphs…I want my time back!!: https://www.imdb.com/review/rw6794531A song…
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The Office Job: Chapter 6: Bait
Nine2Fiv3 [headshot symbol] you
Paul had installed a shooter on the computer but couldn’t get into it. He got sniped rushing B for the third time and threw the mouse across the desk. He held the power button down until the fans cut off and let the silence enrage him for a few moments before he stood up.
“Fuck this. They’re sitting on me for something. Death threats? That’s bullshit!”
His phone rang in his pocket and he jumped. The fear he had covered thinly in anger flared up at the sound. He got the phone out to end the call and saw it was coming in on his encrypted number. He didn’t have anything lined up.
“Hey, this Paul?” The voice didn’t sound law or street. It sounded like a single dad.
“Who is this?”
“My name’s Travis. Davis gave me your number.”
Paul had worked for Davis about a year ago and had completely forgotten about him until now. Didn’t he get locked up?
“What do you want?” Paul did his best kingpin voice while backing away from his desk and leaning behind a cabinet. He looked out the blinds to make sure none of the heads above the cubicles were watching him.
“I got some funds I need to invest.”
“Uh, I heard you do wallets. That’ll work. Unless you still do flips?”
Paul had started out washing money by flipping houses and rental properties before moving to mostly crypto and retail.
“Not really. What did you say your name was?”
“Travis. Wanna meet up? I'm gonna get brunch here in a bit.”
“What kind of money were you looking to invest?”
“It’s from this loan thing I was running. Had to close up shop cause the other guy had to dip out. I got stuck holding the bag, as usual.”
This guy sounded like one of those English majors Paul sold shrooms to in college. Was this a trap? It seemed like such easy money.
“So how much work do you need done?” Paul asked.
“It’s a good chunk of change. I’m from out of state so I can fly you out today if you can go. That’s how you usually do it right?”
Talking to this idiot on the phone felt dangerous, encrypted line or not.
“How did you know Davis?”
“Oh, he was friends with my wife.”
Paul snickered away from the phone.
“Oh, Ok. Where are you having lunch?”
“At that new Deli place, the bottle shop or whatever, you know?”
“Yea, I know it.”
“Cool beans. I’ll be out back at the tables, probably get there before noon, but I’ll be there an hour or so at least.”
Fucking A. He could probably get this guy to buy him a plane ticket and be out of state before any warrant got cleared. This cover job was getting old anyway.
He closed the encrypted OS and ordered a ride on the app then put most of the whiskey and some of the soda in his thermos and walked out of his office. Everyone watched him cross the floor as he made for the restroom. His next cover would have to be some kind of work from home gig. He waited in the stall for about ten minutes then went to the break room and bought a bag of chips. As he waited for the bag to drop, there was that hum, from the lights or vending machines or something unseen, that lapped against the linoleum and filled the room like stale air, the distinctive sound of a breakroom outside of breaktimes. The sound of unwelcome, of a mistake. The plastic flap slapped down like a cell door as he grabbed the chips, cementing his decision to never return.
He took the back staircase and went down a thin hall on the bottom floor. A security guard talked to the maintenance guy in a cramped, buzzing room that smelled like hot pockets and they both looked out as he passed. The hallway was yellowed and dusty with an old linoleum tile floor and stained flaking ceiling panels. It felt like the last part of another older building that had been eaten by the glass one above. The watching eyes, the decaying dustiness, all made him feel he was escaping a collapse.
The door at the end of the hall opened out into the smoker’s cage; a section of cement alley between the building and the parking garage behind a high metal security fence warped by the decades. Gravel sided trash cans, an ancient mesh bench and an old, fractured cement picnic table, all older than Paul. It was against more than a few laws to smoke out here, but everyone did it. Paul smelled weed as he sat down and opened the chips.
In the security room, the guard full-screened the window of the camera on the smokers cage. Paul finished his chips and stood up. He looked around and moved to the far corner and got out a pack of cigarettes. He took one out, then put it back and pulled out a blunt and moved up to the fence so that only his shoulder was in frame. The security guard smiled and restored the window back to a fourth of the screen. He picked up a cell phone and dialed out on an encrypted line.
“Hey, its Bolton. Yea, I'm on cameras. He's sitting in the, uh, cage thing, smoking a joint. Ha ha, yea. Have you heard anything else?”
Bolton reached under the desk and unclipped his MP5. He ejected the magazine and rubbed his finger on the brass of the first round while the person on the other end talked.
“Oh shit really? You think they’ll hit it today? Right. Any idea who it is? Gotcha. Hey, that SAW in the box, is that just for anyone or—.Ok. But if shit goes off and I don’t see him, can I—. Oh, alright. Awesome! What? Oh I didn’t even see that. And the grenades, are those—”
Bolton had been opening and slapping home the charging handle on the MP5 absent mindedly. When he looked down to open it a tenth time, he saw in the tiny upper left window of the screen that Paul’s shoulder was gone. He froze and the chair stopped mid squeak.
“Ok, well keep me updated. No, yea he’s still there. Puffin away, ha ha. Yeah, will do.”
He tapped the phone frantically.
“Shit.” He flicked through the outside cameras, but it was deep into the lunch rush and there were cars everywhere.
“Shit.” He stood up, picked up the phone, and sighed. Probably wouldn’t get to shoot that SAW now.
A pistol in the cupholder is worth two in the—
The land was flat in all directions. Low silver clouds slid across the sky towards the knee-high horizon like they were part of some other world. It was the kind of bright blue day that had a feeling of motion even when standing still.
Philip sat in the center of the SUV with Luke in the driver's seat, parked next to a 24-pump gas station facing an empty field. McMansions with faces of brick and vinyl siding stared hungrily over a subdivision wall at the bare earth and weeds, waiting to pounce.
He had called one of his guys who had contacts near the target’s POE to ask for the name of the cleaner that worked in the area.
“Peter, no, fuck, lemme see.” The guy had talked to someone in the background while a child's whine and the drone of daytime tv came through in choppy echoes. When he got back on the line, he said the cleaner's name was Paul and gave Philip the number to his secure line. Philip put on his best “I’m a little bitch trying to hide my money from the divorce lawyers” voice and made the call. That was that.
Luke heard Philip yelling on the phone as he pulled out of the lot. Less than a minute later he got the call from Lindsey. She sounded mad and he regretted he wasn’t there to see it, her green eyes burning under those cute little eyebrows. He smiled and rested his hand on the big matte box built into the center console, like a movie cowboy holding his hand over a revolver.
“Thanks for backing me up.” Said Philip.
“Don’t make me regret it.”
Philip leaned forward and opened the back of the console.
“How pissed do you think she’ll be when I drop this guy over a fucking ham and swiss?”
Luke glanced back as Philip took a dark handgun, a SIG P365, out of the black box and racked the slide. A round went bouncing onto the floor.
“Shit.” He went down to pick it up.
“I keep all my chambers loaded. This ain't a goddamn field trip.” Luke said.
“He heh.” Philip put the mag back in, racked the slide, ejected the mag and put the round back on top and slapped it back into the gun.
“His guard will probably follow him and brain you when you sit down.” Luke said as he smoothly rolled through a turn.
“Won't you be keeping an eye out? Or are you gonna let them pop me just to make Theresa smile?” Philip put the gun in his jacket pocket and took out a cigar tube.
“I’m just saying you better shoot fast.”
“You remember I started out an operator, right?” He put the cigar in his mouth and took out a lighter.
“That was a long time ago, I heard. Those don’t roll down.” Said Luke. Philip had been poking the window controls repeatedly. He swore and cracked the sunroof.
“You know, he doesn’t know what you look like. Why don’t I just do it?” said Luke.
“He may not know what I look like, but he knows I don’t look like you. He heard me on the phone and my voice wouldn’t come out your face in a million years.”
Philip held the cigar above the flame and rotated it slowly.
“Also, he should find me familiar when he sees me.” He smiled and blew on the end of it.
Luke looked back for a moment. He had forgotten, even though he had just been telling Lindsey, that Philip was good.
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Warning: Violence, potential spoilers
Editor: Grom Slime
Artist: Barns Courtney
Anime: Black Bullet
Work, work, work, but make it fun 🤗🥳💃🏿 • #illustration #graphicdesign #photography #websitedesign #typography #calligraphy #videography #print #branding #curvecfd #art #design #shoot #videography #photoshoot #camera #lights #action #taketwo #editing https://www.instagram.com/p/CNqZcG6hbzM/?igshid=w8ujvn9b5ze9
‘I love you, I always have.’
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My review of Trigger Point starring Barry Pepper
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Yakuza Like a Dragon 46 "Jobs"
Yakuza Like a Dragon 46 “Jobs”
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Heroes – and heroes again. All kinds of heroes.
Planet Fen, lost colony, is now cut off permanently from the rest of the civilized worlds. Unfortunately a lot of people are cut off with it: the occupying troopers and their families, innumerable bureaucrats, scientists, technicians and even a missionary or two. They are all outnumbered and culturally swamped by the native colonists,…
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Max Ride: Ultimate Flight by James Patterson, Jody Houser and R. B. Silva
“Max and her Flock are back — and more determined than ever to unlock the secrets of their past. But when a new stranger comes into their lives, she'll turn their whole world upside down! They're going back to school, but can the Flock hide their gifts and pretend to be regular kids? That might be hard for Max when classes are disrupted by an enemy invasion. Someone has been watching her — but who could it be? And as the search for the truth goes on, will it expose a traitor in their midst? Questions will be answered and mysteries solved, but can Max save the world and her family?”
Click the link to find all copies available at the Walla Walla County Rural Library District.
Cardholders can log into the catalog and place holds for available copies.
Max Ride: First Flight by James Patterson, Marguerite Bennett and Alex Sanchez
“Follow the high-flying adventures of Max and her extraordinary ‘flock’ - Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gasman and Angel - as they try to escape their creators and defend themselves from the diabolical Erasers. Along the way Max discovers her purpose: saving the world! But can she? And where is that mysterious voice in Max's head coming from? As the Flock find themselves in New York City with the Erasers close on their heels, their past may catch up with their future - and destroy it! Max and the Flock get closer to uncovering their past, but is it all just a game of entrapment? And when they finally find the answers they've been searching for, are some secrets better left unlearned?”
Click the link to find all copies available at the Walla Walla County Rural Library District.
Cardholders can log into the catalog and place holds for available copies.