CVnU - Los Angeles (Location Thread)
@great_samson said:
@PeopleCurrentlyInLADoingLAStuff
*Huff! *Huff--!* "MOOOOM! Mom, help please!", the soulrending shrieks of a distressed little damsel carried themselves through the concrete confines of the block. She ran as quickly as her little legs could carry her and cried as much as her eyes allowed, ferals infected with the necodexa virus hounding her all the way from one of the initial incursion zones. They drew near, their locomotion as putrid as the contents of their mind and liberated of any semblance of form.
Cornered in an alleyway her last resort is to climb over the chain fence, but they are already at her feet. Having gathered the last of her hope she leapt off the obstacle's rim, but have they. One rancid claw inches from the nape of her heck. "MOOOOOM!", her tears faintly glitter in the last sunlight of her dusk.
"RRrrargh---", her eyes close at the sound of their growling. All was lost...? "--Ggghk!"
"Down, boy!", a voice of elated and elevated cadence suddenly spoke out. The girl? She found herself in the embrace of a stump-like arm clad in the hues of ocean blue. She looked behind her, the rabid dog of a former man held up in a tide of solid ice. She looked up then to see a bright smile. Samson's most powerful remedy. "Ew! You've got a snot bubble going on!", The Translucent Titan grimaced jokingly in an attempt to alleviate the poor girl's mood and let go of the source of danger.
"Heh!", replied the girl with a smile and the two began to graciously ascend to the top of the neighboring buildings where Samson set her down near a group of people he already helped. Out of them all a woman broke out into a sprint towards the girl "Sandra! Oh thank god you are alright!", she hugged her daughter tightly, as tight as only a parent could.
"Mom! I think you should rather thank this mister...", she gestured towards Samson but before the mother could even begin to form words of gratitude Samson had already departed to the streets below. Helping whomever he could and freezing whomever he could not.
Los Angeles Airspace;
Now.
The Man of Marvels jettisoned towards the heavens in pursuit of the emerald star lingering in the sky. From a distance, his generic set of higher sensory powers allowed him to determine that it was a man wielding an unnatural amount of metaphysical energy. He was the prime suspect now even if Samson knew that the virus originated from Emerald City. Establishing his supremacy over the Einsteinian laws of physics, The Superhuman Samaritan came to an instantaneous hover from his supersonic flight.
Air crackling into a sonic boom from his stop, Samson's crimson cape was flung billowing forwards as he appeared near The Verdant Knight. With a mighty frow he stared at the target of his inquiry: "For your sake I hope emerald is the only thing you've got in common with Emerald City."
The Superhuman Samaritan had approached with enough speed to send the air past Stan's hair, causing him to instantly will the binoculars to dissipate. He hovered backwards slightly, then forward, raising an eyebrow behind his domino mask. He could tell from the man's assertive demeanor that he was being held responsible.
"What, me? C'mon, no. Look at those guys. Red, red, red. We don't share the aesthetic," he said, pointing to his chest with his thumb. He looked the Paradigm of Persistence over, then glancing down at the streets below.
Who does this guy think he is?
"So these are just your generic terror-mooks, right? I mean, I've already got Main Street under control. Just a few stragglers left to take out, once I find them," he said, cracking his knuckles and changing the subject. Green vapor emanated from where his fists touched.
@dreadpool10: @junction: @great_samson: @theflashfire: @last_guardian:
With a toothy grin she watched as the screen begin to light up in several different locations throughout the city. She was able to keep track of everything that was going on. Fires raged through the streets of the city as several explosions went off one by one, and her smiled widen into a crazed smile. Blue lights began to flash along the screen, indicating heroes had begun to make their way into the city. She knew it would only be moments before Jaired would find her as she could feel the speed force sweep through the city. Then there was the Emerald Guardian who she had never laid eyes before. Seconds later the Prince of power jumped into the fray. This was perfect. Heroes scrambling throughout the city to save it, to find out who was behind the attack. To protect the citizens that she declared to Jason that she would kill. It was like a dream come true, why hadn't she done this sooner?
But then, a voice called out to her. Her head snapped over to the direction and saw it was none other than the butler for WAL. He was a sort of father figure to the once blue hero. He always offered her advice when she needed it, and listen to her rant when she had no one else to talk to. Not to mention, his cookies were the best in all of California. “Mr. French.” She gave him an unnatural wide smile as she began walking towards him, leaving the hologram screen behind. “Its been at least a couple of years, hasn’t it? How’ve you been?” She teasingly ran her index finger along his shoulder as she began circling him. “Things look great here, it’s as if WAL is going back to how it was, it would be a shame if something happened to it.”
“Zoe…” Mr. French began. “Let’s go over to the kitchen, I can make us some cookies, we can talk.” He tried to try and defuse the current situation at hand, unknowing that the Zoe he knew, wasn't currently in control of herself.
“Or…” she began, now standing before him once more as she gently pressed her hand against his chest as she leaned forward on him, going on her tip toes as she whispered in his ear. “I can kill you.” Her eyes began to glow yellow as she began infusing Mr. French with heat, quickly spiking his body temperature to a seizing 107F degrees. Gasps of breath was heard from him as his skin began to flush when she felt it. The Speed Force made it’s way into the WAL HQ, which meant. “Jaired.” She whispered before she turned her attention away from Mr. French, pulling her hand away as his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his body began shaking uncontrollably on the ground, foaming at the mouth as Zoe then took off in a streak of blur. Running through the WAL HQ she then spotted him, the crimson speedster and she gave him a snickering grin before looking behind her towards the mission room, suggesting that there was someone in danger. He would have to make a choice to either continue to follow her, or find the person she harmed.
As soon as she made her way outside she took a leap up from the ground as her body exploded into a blazing glory. Her flames were a blinding gold as they danced around her body, lifting her up from the ground effortlessly as if they had a life of their own, taking her high into the smoke filled sky that were obscuring the light of the sun into the city below. Dozens of fires have been ignited and several explosions had claimed buildings as her Ferals chanted her name. Making her way through the sky she made her way to the Griffith Observatory where dozens of people were being lined up to be infected. Descending down to the front of the observatory like the angel of death Zoe’s flames died down as she approached the people who were being forced to knee before her. Men, women even children, crying, yelling in anger some staying silent in fear. While hundreds of other Ferals were still creating chaos, Zoe began to act like the horsewoman of pestilence. Scratching her own skin she drew her infectious blood upon her index finger.
“You shall all be reborn in my image and carry my legacy upon this Earth!” She shouted as she began to approach the people, walking up to her first victim, a man in a business suit, his eyes wide and filled with fear. “I will love you as my own children and you will help pave my way upon this world.”
“YOU’RE CRAZY!” the man yelled out as Zoe threw her head back in laughter before reaching down and scratching the side of his face with her infection hand, mixing her blood with his before her expression shift cold for a moment. "I'm not crazy... just a little sick."
@last_guardian said:
Posting tomorrow night if everything goes as planned.
@last_guardian said:
@dreadpool10: I'm posting [tomorrow night] if everything goes as planned.
Why? O-o
(Hahaha, messing with you. Take your time :))
@feral_nova said:
@great_samson: @hope_: @junction: @dreadpool10@flash_fire @IHopeI'mNotForgettingAnyone
One by one she began to infect the innocent civilians of the city as her Ferals continued to chant “FERAL NOVA IS LOVE, FERAL NOVA IS GRACE, FERAL NOVA IS FREEDOM, ALL HAIL FERAL NOVA!” in unison as the people of Los Angeles began to convert into her mindless infectious slaves before their eyes. Zoe smiled as she could feel the viral infection become stronger within her with every passing moment, the need to spread the sickness becoming more intense. Her Ferals were still creating chaos in the city while others had be stopped by the heroes. It would take more than just stopping a couple of dozen of her loyal followers to stop them.
Just then, she heard it, but not one, but two sonic booms in the sky and quickly channeling her connection to the speed force, the world slowed down around her, but instead of running, she stood there, with a cocky grin upon her face as she saw not one but two heroes coming at her at still amazing speeds, turning her body to face both of them at once. One, a young woman and the other a young man, oh, which would get their hands on her first she began to wonder. They were both coming at her, but the young woman looked like she was going to attempt to attack, but at the last moment, the male hero hands took grip on her as he plucked her up from the ground, facing him as he carried her. Don’t worry new little hero who was left behind… we’ll meet again soon. But as soon as Samson took her she bit down forcefully on her tongue, causing her viral blood to be draw, and before he released her from his grasp, she spat out her blood filled saliva to his face. Her intention? To infect the powerful hero by getting her blood into his eyes just a moment before her body went flying like a rag doll across the LA skyline. Her body erupted into yellow and orange flames as her body automatically began to convert the heat of fire into strength and durability as it reached up to 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit, just a small fraction of her full power.
Impact was made with the bat, hitting her right in the abdomen and into her diaphragm, pushing the oxygen out of her lungs and causing her to fall down towards the city only to land on the roof of one of the many skyscrapers that stood tall above the chaos city below. Landing with a ‘thud’ her flames continued to surround her in a soft ember glow as she gasped for air, her hand wrapped around her abdomen as she stood up, her teeth grit together as she pushed up from the skyscraper and flew like a demon towards the Emerald Hero, “You like playing baseball?” She shouted as she threw her right arm forward, a sphere of golden fire escaping from her hand as it flew towards him. If he attempted to block, or hit it in any way, it would explode upon impact with a sixteen feet (five meter) blast radius with the heat as strong as 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit (5,500 degrees Celsius), however, even if it didn’t hit him, it would eventually hit one of the many buildings that were around them, which would only cause more destruction and kill more innocent people.
But then, out of nowhere, the woman, the same one from before made an appearance and her fist plowed into Zoe’s face, which would have also had to touch her fire that surrounded her body as her living flame would attempted to latch onto her clothes and eat away at her skin. Zoe’s head snapped to the side as blood and saliva spewed from her lips, the force of the punch was so great that it caused her body to free fall down to the streets of the city like a flaming meteor. Her body smashed into the concrete of the street with a ‘BOOM’, dust, dirt and debris rose all around the point of impact, a small crater was formed where she landed, her flames depleted. As the dust began to settle Zoe was seen laying face first on the ground, metallic tasting crimson fluid began to ooze from her busted lip and severed tongue. Slowly pushing herself up, she coughed as more blood trickled from between her lips for a moment, taking in a deep breath as she wiped her mouth clean before giving a half grin. These heroes, they were strong, almost too strong for her to handle on her own…. Almost. “Is that it?”
Standing up, the air around her them began to grow warm as a glow started to form around her body. Within seconds her body burst into flames, the red and gold fire danced around her body wildly as her eyes locked on the young blonde bombshell that sent her crashing into the ground just moments ago. Without hesitation, and a flicker of electricity in her eyes, Zoe zipped over to a vehicle that held a young man inside, who was trying to keep safe from the violence that was overtaking the city. The man screamed as Zoe’s hands placed under the car and with a single grunt she lift the vehicle from the ground as the man quickly put his seatbelt on, as if it could protect him from what was about to happen next, and Zeon threw it as hard as she could towards the blond bombshell. She knew heroes liked saving people, people dying because they were reckless was something that always ate away at them. As soon as the car left her hands, Zoe threw her hands upward towards her as she let out a feral roar, the infectious blaze rushing from her body, up her arms and from her hands coming towards the new hero like a bat out of hell, trying to hit the vehicle before it would reach Hope to cause a massive explosion while at the same time killing the man inside.
“THIS CITY BELONGS TO ME! GIVE UP!” The former hero roared with laughter. At the same time, as all of this was going on, Ferals were beginning to execute civilians they have captured in the open, bashing their heads in with whatever they could get a hold. Wrenches, rubble from buildings, whatever their fingers could grasp.
I prepare to move to intercept the vehicle but suddenly a red blur zooms in, removes the guy from the car and zooms out at speeds that I can barely even register. I'm still trying to get over the fact that I just punched someone into the pavement or the fact that their really hot fire didn't touch my skin or my weird clothes that I still don't know the origin of. I count my blessings and zoom forward towards the vehicle just as it explodes with a FOOOM! The force of the explosion sends me rocketing backwards but just before I hit a building I'm able to get control of my unexpected backward flight. I glance down at my body, finding nothing damaged and no injuries. Whatever has happened to me, it's truly amazing. The woman I punched seems to be alive and I realize now that she's spreading some sort of sickness to everyone she can, driving them all bonkers.
I shift my gaze to the red guy who just showed up again and started talking to the crazy flames woman. He seemed to be on our side before but now he's talking about helping her burn the world and take over everything. I'm not really sure how to take this. Maybe he knows her, maybe he's trying to trick her into thinking he's on her side. That's the only thing that really makes any sense, so for now I have to assume that's his plan. If he turns out to really be on her side I'll just punch him out of the city or something.
"I never give up." I tell the woman calmly. He may be trying to get her to stop what she's doing, but I can't let her run free while he does so either. I have to do something. Maybe if she feels close to losing she'll listen to him. If only I had some sort of ranged...
Blue lasers shoot out of my eyes, heat vision some people will end up calling it but it's more than just pure heat, it's cutting and impact. Throwing pure heat at someone obviously immune to it would be insane, but the powers are responding to my thoughts, reacting without me knowing what they even are. When it first occurs the beams are aimed at her, but well aware they won't cause damage I quickly avert my gaze to other targets. If the others can focus their efforts on her and I can as well, it will be easier...so I do what must be done. I direct my attacks at her blood crazed zombies. I know it will kill them but I'm not out to avoid killing, I'm out to save lives, to preserve Hope and if I have to kill someone to do it...I can feel bad about it later. I try something after the first man is cut in half, I begin blinking during the process and it works, cutting beams it rapid fire bursts of energy. I hover above the city, directing rapid bursts of raw power at each of the zombies in turn, hoping to obliterate them and leave everyone safe...and the other heroes able to focus on the cause of our mutual problem.
@feral_nova: @junction: @hope_: @dreadpool10: @theflashfire:
The Superhuman Samaritan hoisted Feral Nova from above in the wake of his success. <Good now just-->, train of thought derailing in face of viral danger expelled from the mouth of his zombified cargo, Samson instincively let go as his arms refocused on protecting his face from the threat. It was too late however and her blood spread over his disgusted facade. Even though a neo-deity, the hero's form still shared much with the human biology and as such Necodexa found way into his system through his throat. However, moments after the nGod started choking on seemingly air itself, a reaction uncommon in the infected, and his spasming body fell out of the sky.
"Stupid... So stupid..."
Agonizing sensations surged through the seams of his superhuman structure as he fought a internal battle on the grassy ground. The virus, as potent and vigorous as it was, couldn't hope to enter the microbiology of Samson whose celluar membranes were charged with searing solar energies that protected his genetics from viral attacks of any form. Instead it formed on the exterior, inside his throat formed a black biomass that sought to enter his body by force even if it meant to kill it's would be host to first. His sapphire blue eyes shot up with crimson red...
<Gotta... think... quick..!>
In the aftermath of that thought, Samson's eyes flared up with bright energy as his mental palace deposited every bit of remaining sentience to formulating a strategy with the quantum efficiency of his brain. Permutations upon permutations as he drew information from his hyperthymetic memory to incorporate every possible variable into a feasible formula for success. Then nothing, rigor mortis as his body stopped spasming and his eyes surrendered their glow and closed. A gust of summer wind blew past his body, carresing Samson's raven hair before the superman jumpstarted again with a release of all his solar energy in the form of heat towards the sky.
The goal? Like a rampart forest fire, the heat would cause the collective moisture in the skies (where the blast of radiant energy simply stopped) to condense into abyssal stormclouds and in turn generate an almost immediate, intense and unyielding downpour like the City of Angels never experienced before. Every droplet of water above the city would descend in the form of as strong shower that would not only drop the local temperatures to those hovering above 0° but also put out fight off any fires recently caused in the city - including those of their orchestrator Feral Nova. (This is literally just heavy rain, nothing terribly intense. Do not sell it as just outright not being able to 'Flame on!' but rather as an inconvenience.)
Depriving himself of the energies that empowered his cells meant that The Man of Marvels allowed Necodexa virus to dissolve in his throat and enter his posthuman body. But that was his intent. After all, what was a virus to the nGod of Information but a sequence of invasive data? The efforts of his quantum oversoul, the true form of the nGod and the 'ghost in the shell', would dissect the unicelluar organism at the very molecules of it's RNA to invert and convert it into an extension of Samson's body in a way analogous to how Nova became the sentient manifestation of the original Necodexa.
He became the host of the virus' mutation and awoke from his metamorphosis with emerald veins visibly pumping underneath his skin and iris-less lime green eyes set on the prize. Manipulating the essence of Nova's personal strain of the virus provided him with a singular clarity of mind and the ability to sense her and those she sired over vast distances. Left without the access to his solar powers, Samson was left to rely on the still formidable resources of his default posthuman biology. The crimson 'Bleed cape' dissipated into the interdimensional flow again as the superman leapt towards the Griffith Observatory where the mass executions/conversions were held.
The Adamantium Proletarian stared down the ferals with an angry frown and gritting teeth for a moment before suddenly spreading his thick arms into an embrace. In it he offered his open palms...
@feral_nova: @great_samson: @dreadpool10: @theflashfire: @hope_: @junction: @izaiah:
Sweat dripping from my brow from the intense battle with the Feral Bandits, my eyes finally fall on Zoe's tear-stained face the moment she falls to her knees in surrender. "Nova," I say softly, clenching my fist in anger to the idea that someone as full of life as my oldest friend could suffer such a cruel fate as this. It's evident in her eyes that the darkness' hold is finally beginning to fade, replaced by feelings of fear, confusion, and guilt. It's now or never.
“Are you ready?” I murmur to my partner, Izaiah, who has silently appeared behind me in a flash of energy. “We do this clean. We do this fast. Nobody gets hurt, just like you asked.”
“Ready,” he responds with conviction in his voice, the likes I'd never heard before from him in our short time as teammates.
The group that stood congregated by Zoe Olisnicky had her best interests at heart, that much was clear. As I try to get a sense of their emotions with my empathetic abilities, I bare witness to overwhelming sympathy, kinship, and even the unique aura of non-platonic love.
With another instantaneous flash, we disappear, and in less than a second we are at her side. The emotions of those near us are now even more apparent, but even with their good intentions in mind, I can't help but fear for what Zoe's fate might be after the heinous crimes that the virus drove her to commit. I’ve seen first hand what the government does to those it fears. By this time tomorrow, Nova would undoubtedly be in the custody of the United States Government, being punished for a crime that she had no say in committing, or even worse, being vivisected in the name of superhuman science.
As the terrifying scenarios run through my mind, I'm reminded of the solemn vow I once made to her older sister. Before her death, I promised Lauren that if anything ever happened to her, I would do everything in my power to keep Zoe safe. I've done a shitty job so far, but the sun hasn't set on the Fire Goddess.
A wave of devastating telekinetic energy radiates from around Nova, Izaiah, and I. To beings with the durability of the heroes around us, this wave shouldn't do much more than push them back several feet to give our trio room to operate. Telepathically, I speak to any in the immediate vicinity that would be able to perceive my words.“Thank you. I’ll take it from here. Zoe's safe with me. Don't bother looking for us.”Four short sentences that will hopefully put their minds at ease, though I doubt that the sudden appearance of a known "terrorist" would do much to quell their fears.
In one last flash, we are gone, transported through space until we reach our destination; a small island in the Atlantic, one untouched by the ravishes of humanity, alive with unique flora and fauna found nowhere else in the world.
We appear on the sandy beaches of the beautiful island, the soft whisper of salt in the air enveloping us as the waves crash against the shore. In the process of teleportation, I've embraced Zoe in a tight hug that I now feel safe enough to disengage. Kneeling down beside, her, I push back the strands of wild blonde hair obscuring her face with my finger and look into her entrancing blue eyes.
“Hey, Sparky, long time no see," I utter with a smile in an attempt to mitigate the whirlwind of emotion that she must be experiencing. "Welcome to Luna Island."
I was doing so well. Fatherhood, decent job, and I even started dating again. Everything was on the up and up. I was living an honest life, but I guess the man in the sky had a different plan for me.
"Noah, are you okay?" My head pivots to the side, because I'm alarmed by the urgency in her tone. It's strange for me. The thought of worrying about someone other then my son, but I've somehow managed to do just that. So, I look at her with this overwhelming feeling of concern plastered on my face like a Hollywood billboard sign.
"I'm fine, Mariah. I promise. Please, just tell me if I'm preparing a funeral or not." She didn't have to do this. We haven't talked since I moved back to the east coast, but college friends have this way of understanding sparse communication. I know that more than anyone. So, I was more then elated to hear Mariah's voice when we landed in Los Angeles. Everything since has been kind of a blur.
"He took some heavy damage. There were lacerations across his body. Not to mention the deep wound on his neck." Mariah doesn't give me much reason to relax. Instead she reminds me about the breathing corpse I brought inside my pad some hours ago.
"Calmate, Noah. He'll live! He just needs some rest." Mariah reminds me how lucky I am to have her and I can't argue with logic. So much so that when she approaches, I stand up and wrap my arms around her waist. I kind of get carried away and lift her off the floor, but she doesn't complain. She always did enjoy being whisked away. "Okay, you can put me down now. I'm sure you'll want to see him now."
She's right. For the most part I do want to see him. Truthfully, I never thought I'd have this chance again, but it's here. I'll admit to being kind of nervous. These last few hours have been more strenuous than that time I cooked brownies for Troy's school Christmas party. I'll never forget the look on Claudette's face when the kids ransacked the trays I brought in. Although that definitely pales into comparison to the here and the now.
After thanking Mariah for the hundredth time, I walk to the bedroom. Yet, I stop myself before stepping inside. I don't mean to sound melodramatic, but I feel like I'm already doing too much already. I rescued him, got him patched up, and now he's laid up on a good comforter. The last thing he needs to see is this stranger hovering above him. So, I'll wait.
"We'll catch up soon," I murmur to my old friend Jacob, who appeared to be soundly resting after the long day he had. And as happy as I am to see him amongst the living, I can wait a few more hours to talk and hash things out. Until then I decide to turn around and return to the living room, where a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch awaits.
@last_guardian: (this came out differently then i expected lol)
1999
A young boy sits in front of a TV in the living room of his home. His heart is beating wildly, his small palms sweaty as he stares enthralled by the images dancing on the screen. Miles away, a monumental conflict is playing out, news cameras rolling as a duo of superpowered individuals duke it out in the nation's capital for the whole world to see. In one corner, representing truth, justice, and the American way stands the proud star-spangled hero, "The Avenger," one of the boy's very favorites. A hundred feet away, surrounded by his army of robotic pets, stands the dastardly Mister Roboto, a genius technopath and inventor who has run afoul of the law one too many times.
As he watches the two sides clash, shield defending against metallic claws, the young boy can no longer contain his excitement and rises to his feet. The battle lasts hours, the Avenger slowly but surely fighting his way through the multitude of mechanical creatures until he's met face to face with his foe. His breaths now staggered, the boy inches closer to the television. How will the Avenger bring the villain to justice? Will he smack him with his iconic shield? Perhaps a quick punch in the face would the trick?
"Jacob, shut that off, its time for dinner!" A voice calls out from the kitchen, momentarily distracting the young fan and causing him to look away,.
"In a minute, mom!" he responds before quickly turning back to the screen. He gasps when he sees that the conflict has ended but it's not the infallible superhero that stands towering over his foe, but a defeated man in red, white, and blue on the ground, bleeding profusely from a small opening in his skull. Bruised but victorious, Mister Roboto flees the scene on the back of a huge metallic bird.
The live broadcast cuts to a speechless pair of news anchors, the woman of the pair very clearly holding back tears. In the coming days it is revealed that the Avenger suffered some sort of brain trauma that has sent him into a deep coma, the hero of millions of Americans, chief among them a young Jacob Grayson, slayed by a cowardly evildoer.
Where most kids would go on to become disenchanted by the news of one of thier greatest heroes falling so hard in the face of adversity, Jacob is galvanized. The way he sees it, the Avenger's defeat means one thing, that there's one less good man to defend the Earth. Even at his tender age, Jacob knows that one day this will be his burden to bear.
2016, 48 Hours After Blood Will Spill
My eyes flicker open and I suddenly sit up from a bed that's not my own. I groan as the pain that I've been accumulating in my body for the last two days assaults me all at once. It's becoming hard to breathe as I pull the covers off of my legs and stand up from the strange bed. Hours ago, an arrow pierced my neck and the pain from that injury is paramount above all, a fire burning at the back of my throat with every breath I take. Blood still slowly seeps from the stitched up wound, running down my neck and pooling on my shirt's collar.
Soon, I'm stumbling through the darkness out into the hallway, following the familiar sound of a television replaying the day's news. The word "Iceland" uttered by one of the anchors jolts my hazy memory, images of the major world event that I was unlucky enough to experience firsthand playing in my mind like a PowerPoint presentation.
I've become disowned by my own country and, if anything, that hurts so much more than the physical pain of it all.Nevertheless, I push back both forms of pain, something that I've become an expert at as of late.
“Noah," I wheeze in a raspy voice, happy to see my long lost cousin once more. "Who does a guy have to save around here to get himself glass of water?”
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