ReroutedAnother seventy-two characters, another seventy-two grand. Each and every keystroke only lead the conductor of cybernetic calamity towards greater archives of digital riches and rewards. Tap-tap-tap and up went an idle copy of a firewall’s coding, a program completely identical to the original, but with so many more wounds to open. A simple six-digit code and one could take an electric vacuum to the account and drag away every cent they could find. Just a single perk that came with the ever-rewarding occupation of cyber-smuggler.Rerouted by AnUnfoldedPaperTiger
And today? Today had been an absolutely prodigious day for cyber-smuggling. Late Saturday had arrived early, coming ‘round the clock at a record time of 4:45. By the time the global alarms went off, every man-operated cyber-surveillance system had been dropped in favor of the raising of glasses and the imbibing of the night. Entire ethereal warehouses of nothing but bank accounts, shipping routes, shareholder stocks and top-secret information block
Centurion Ch. 2: So shall it be PART 2/2Centurion Ch. 2: So shall it be PART 2/2 by StarscreamLove
And so, Cerberus and Shadow Screech waited silently in the dark room, pacing back and forth impatiently to sitting and staring at whatever was around them. During his annoyed pacing, Shadow Screech halted in his tracks and looked to the doorway in which they entered.
“He’s here…” he muttered.
“Well, I could’ve told you that,” Cerberus claims as he rolls off his seat from his laying position.
Shadow Screech watched the door intently, expecting it to open at any moment until he felt a barely noticeable yet bone-chilling wind brush up against his bare skin. He whips around to see the towering form of Phrixus looming over him. He yells in shock, stumbling and falling backwards.
“M-My Lord! Y-You startled me!” Shadow Screech stammers nervously.
Phrixus doesn’t respond, lifting his gaze up to the door. Just then, it flies open, both doors falling off their hinges. In the doorway stood Snow Fall’s older sister and rival Forest
The Alverdale Tangle - Act 5. Chpt - 9Millstone.The Alverdale Tangle - Act 5. Chpt - 9 by Sleyf
With autumn fast approaching, the hubbub of summer in Aven is drawing to a close - and not before time, in Gabriel's opinion. With both of his companions at a crisis, Rondcopse is the only one with some semblance of solidarity in his life - that is, until a shadow from his past appears in Alverdale, hanging a millstone about his throat.
Thankfully, the streets were thankfully to grow less congested as the summer drew to a close, and soon all of the most notable families would be heading back to their own estates, or following the circuit to another county that was less prestigious. Dr. Rondcopse for one, would not be sorry to see them all go.
The colour and flare of the “Fashionable Season” was something he had taken no interest in despite having to attend out of social obligation (although recently he would secretly admit
AnimusIf I couldAnimus by xxdraxx
I would vomit my soul
And let it chain itself
To my speech
Like a parasite.
I would let it
Become my puppet master,
And let it sway my arms
I never thought
Instead, I've kept my soul
Trapped in a cage
And watched it
Try to bite
It's way to freedom.
21 Years OldSo I was just a child21 Years Old by Rifle1980
And they said that this was ‘just a phase’
That lasted 20 years
And 364 days
Tomorrow will I switch
From an adolescence damaged mess
To a mature adult
Able to cope with all of this stress?
Or will I just remain
Embedded in my concrete routine
That’s waiting to be smashed
By my sledgehammer wielding dreams
Give me the key to the door
I will turn the knob fast
Clockwise to see the future
Back again to remain in the past
So I was just a child
And they said that this was just a phase
Melatonin helped me sleep
Right through this melancholic haze
But tomorrow I will wake
From an adolescent slumber
Shake off the shackles
That have only served to encumber
My free spirit, free will
And most importantly my feel mind
With a lifetime of whispers
My voice has been difficult to find
But I’ll take the key in hand
Clear my throat as I toss it away
Smash the door from the hinges
Now you’ll listen to what I have to say
Awakening: Prodigy - Chapter 1Awakening: Prodigy - Chapter 1 by AstralDaamon
Parents and children huddled together under the flickering lights of the evacuation centers secured hold. The staccato rhythm of the defense units’ weapons did little to ease the fear of the surviving refugees. A blast rocked the center; one less defense unit.
Amongst the remnants of the surviving refugees was an eight year old girl with ebony black hair. Her carefully selected clothes for the community celebration that day was now stained and torn. She was one of the lucky ones for getting away with a few scrapes and cuts. She cradled her trusty teddy bear between her legs and her chest, hugging her constant companion close while straining her hearing, hoping for some sign that might prove that her father was alive.
Smothered cries of young children were stifled by terrified parents. The young girl watched, silent, wondering if they knew that they were killing their young. She wondered if the parents noticed the weak resistance of their child's small body fighting for
Keep It RealWhereas diasporic communitiesKeep It Real by xxdraxx
Have to been attempting to separate themselves
From harsh sun and seasons,
Without reason, others have built their lives between
The cracks of statements such as:
“Keep it real”
Or, “This shit is dope”.
Motherfuckers better realize
Now, is time to self-actualize.
TreatyThe long warTreaty by xxdraxx
Between the heart and brain
A treaty has been signed.
Bringing harmony between self
We call it poetry.
Needing YouI am writing this letterNeeding You by AnUnfoldedPaperTiger
Two weeks in advance, for I
Cannot pay the fare for anything
Faster. I am unable to deliver this
Myself because I will be long across
The highway. But I have overcome the
Distance, so let me continue.
I am writing this letter as if I would
A vision, because messages are more easily
Remembered when shown, not told.
When the words lose their form and
The ink shifts and morphs into what is
Meant to be seen.
I am writing this to you because
I am going off to war, against
An unbeaten enemy whose backgrounds
Have been burned. I know that I
Must rise up to meet the road,
But I must ask you this.
Will you still be there,
Waiting with a smile and a shrug
Saying “‘Bout time you showed up”
Will you still be sitting
On your front porch steps,
Whittling away like some
Will you still need me
After I’ve left and gone?
Because I’ll still need you.
Scraps of WarIf I gathered everything,Scraps of War by AnUnfoldedPaperTiger
The guns, the garments, the badges and bombs,
From every war that's ever been waged
Would I be able to sew together, to burn with bronze
Wings for the fallen so that they might
Could I give their beloveds enough fire and powder
To ignite the lives that they too swiftly lost?
If I collected every spec of scorched earth
That remained of once-standing cities
Would it be enough to build something
Could I take the shattered remains of
Oceanside bluffs and bustling metropoli
And form something that shall stand eternal?
If I counted the years
That every soldier lost during
His life on the battlefield
Could I finally achieve immortality?
Would I be able to stop my hair
From graying? To stop the clock
From ticking? To stop the world