The Space Raptor and Walnut Trilogy by Lindsay "Hotdog" Ellis

Whine and Bitch about people long after they become interesting to talk about
User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Re: Axiom's End by Lindsay Ellis/Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Mon Aug 03, 2020 10:10 am

Axiom's End by HotDog Girl
Chapter 40: The Finale
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

THE FINAL FUCKING CHAPTER!!!
Cora’s ease into consciousness became a plunge. She gasped and sat up, bracing for the ripping fire from her ripped-up and seared insides. There was an ache, but no ripping.
“Mom?”
She wakes up in a hospital.
Insert ending scene of Wizard of OZ. All her family is there, including Aunty, and the dogs.
They know not how she got there.
They are free because daddeh leaked a document.
& is nowhere to be seen.
Cora had been missing for two weeks.
Guv'ment types came and went.
Yo, bitch. What had happened to you?
Agent Flannel visits her regularly.
They talk about daddeh and his leaking. Of documents. Documents.
& invisibility cloak visits her.
“What are you doing?”
“Making room,” she stated. “So you can lie down next to me.”
Nope. Not getting roped in this time. No space raptor sex.
They spoon.
He strokes her.
He was so big, him sharing a bed with her meant he was practically on top of her
Tease.
“Cefo was bonded to Obelus, too, wasn’t he?”
The rhythmic stroking stopped. “Yes.”
“So the three of you were a phyle,” she said.
A homo-raptor threesome? Ew.
Please stay, &.
No.
Why?
Because.
Can you read my mind?
No.
“You did something to me,” she whispered.
Ampersand’s rhythmic stroking slowed and then stopped. He shaded his eyes in one long, languid blink.
What aren't you telling me?
No, I musn't.
Nigga, please.
It's for your own good.
Tell me!
No.
You would if you liked me.
I like you.
TELL ME!!!
Aight. But you gotta keep this on the down low. 'Naw what I sayin'?
Fo' sho!
I'm brain damaged from torture, and Erf scares me. When I was younger I wouldn't have bothered with yo broke ass.
Fo' real?
True! But now, you my nigga. I coulda just let you die, and go on with my bad self, but I lerv you. I done did fusion bonded with yo ass.
Cool. I can hear yo thoughts now.
Nuh uh. Niggas can;t be hearing us.
This nigga can.
Shit.
“Whatever you did, it did something to me. It hurts me, the thought of you leaving. I don’t know if that and the bond are related. I think they must be. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like, I don’t know, I feel like an addict. Like if you leave, I’ll go into withdrawal.” She chuckled nervously, and thought of just how powerful he was.
You my homie. *taps his chest twice with peace sign and points at her.
There were riots in the streets. The government was crumbling. And here she was begging the source of that chaos to stay.
“But our bond will always be difficult for me.”
Always with the riots.
“But our bond will always be difficult for me.”
On reflex, without even asking for permission, she found herself reaching up for his “face,” that delicate curve of structure that rimmed his big eyes. He allowed it, even seemed to lean into it. “Why?” she asked.
“Given our disparate physiology, we can never communicate through high language. I will never truly know you. We will always be isolated within our own minds.”
Cora understood what he meant. He couldn’t communicate with her any deeper than human language would allow. He could never know her in the same way he knew his other symphyles. “Well,” she said. “We humans somehow manage with only the limits of human language.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “But I am not human.”
And THAT is that.
End of an awful, awful book.
Lindsay, fuck you. I hope you get hit by a bus before your sequel comes out. The world is now a little dumber because of this travesty of a “book”.
DHI, you didn't ask me to do this, but here you go.
If you want to read this piece of shit for yourselves, the torrent is still up. Do not send a dime to that cunt.
I'm out of here.

-pibbs
AcknowledgmentsShow
I’ve had some version of Ampersand in my head for ten years, but the final form of this thing is miles away from where it started. I did not foresee how many people would eventually help me find the final shape of this word cloud, but there have been many over that decade-long haul. Here are some of them.
Thank you:
To my literary agent, Christopher Hermelin, who reached out to me on a hunch that I already had a story ready to go, and like Merry and Pippin, his coming was like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains, and who has also become a good friend. To Antonella Inserra and Elisa Hansen, who have been with this project since its earliest incarnations, and the number of drafts they have read is *checks notes* many. To my husband, Nick, who was not only an invaluable font of knowledge but also has been a loving and supportive partner through The Process. To Angelina Meehan, my creative soulmate, who immediately understood what I was going for and helped me find the book’s final form, its aesthetic, its theme, and so very much else. To Pete Wolverton, who was so excited to take a chance on this book, and to Hannah O’Grady, who likewise spent so much time on this project. To Hank Green, my friend and mentor who has guided me and helped me in more ways than I can list on an acknowledgments page. To the rest of the team at St. Martin’s Press, who gave an unbelievable amount of trust and faith for a debut. And to other folks who’ve either worked with me on this, helped it find its form over the years, or just been there with support or advice: Ken Munson, Aline Baumgartner, Emily VanDerWerff, Katherine Lo, Sean McCarthy, Sue Ellis, Oliver Thorn, Lindsay Ribar, Princess Weekes, John Green, John Scalzi, Philipp Dettmer, and Caitlin Doughty.
Most of all, deepest thanks to President Ronald Reagan, who deregulated the hell out of children’s television programming in the early 1980s (among many other things), and without whom Transformers would not exist.
To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Tue Nov 02, 2021 9:40 am

THE LONG-AWAITED SEQUEL MY FRIENDS!!!
Image
Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl
Chapter 1: Here We Fucking Go Again
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch
Lindsay Ellis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
I haven't even started reading and already the pretentiousness is Super Saiyan level. And I don't even have my rum and Coke. Fuck.

For Kaveh
Is this one of her pedo friends?

This book has a trigger warning. You can read it if you want. It's only 432 words long. My God.
SpoilerShow
The following serves as a content warning, and as such contains some spoilers. If you feel that you aren’t someone who benefits from or needs content warnings, I suggest you skip this section.
There is much discussion in media criticism circles about the ethics of portrayals of suicide and self-harm, particularly the tendency to romanticize it. Indeed, I have had some very bad nights as a result of certain pieces of media framing suicide as a sad thing that happens, but maybe sometimes the noble thing to do, especially for those of us who have metaphorically pissed our pants at the Grammys (looking at you, A Star Is Born ). But romanticization or no, any depiction of suicide, attempted, contemplated, or completed, can make someone who already experiences those tendencies to fall back into the ideation pit. Depiction of an act need not be romanticized to trigger negative effects, especially if the viewer/reader goes in unaware.
On the flip side, as a writer you never know what will be harmful for others, and just because someone feels hurt or is triggered by your work doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. I don’t like the idea of certain subjects being “off limits” either as a writer or a reader, and I think we should allow ourselves to write about messy, difficult, and painful situations, including sympathetic characters engaging in acts of self-harm or acting in unethical or even abusive ways. Armed with this foreknowledge, the onus is on the reader to decide if this material might be harmful to them.
One of the main themes of Truth of the Divine is trauma, and it contains depictions of post-traumatic stress, depression, addiction, alcoholism, domestic violence, and a wide smattering of manifestations of mental illness such as panic attacks. The book includes depictions of suicidal ideation, suicidal planning, attempted suicide, completed suicide, and violent self-harm. The book also contains depictions of racism, xenophobia, Islamophobia, racially motivated violence, anti-Semitism, and a few incidences of racial slurs. While the book doesn’t contain anything that I would consider sexual violence, it does contain some uncomfortable sexual situations (and no, I don’t mean with aliens, sorry—not yet, anyway).
I include this warning not because I want to dissuade anyone from reading but to inform the reader of content they may not otherwise anticipate, especially given the relatively light tone of the first installment of this series. If indeed you do feel like any of the above might be harmful to you, I suggest you postpone reading this book until such a time that that is no longer the case.
And then she copy pastes “The Universal Declaration of Human Rights” (I embiggened Human Rights because she did in her book) from the United Nations General Assembly in Paris 1948. Becuase of course she did. She doesn't want you to miss that the space raptor is a metaphor of the struggles of transurban white girls like Lindsay.

Still not at Chapter 1 yet. First a Top Secret communique to the President.
FROM SA SOLOMON KAPLANReceived by Washington
TO KEVIN WIXOM FOR THE PRESIDENT 1:38 PM Tuesday January 1 2008
TOPSECRET TOP SECRET
SUBJECT: LIST OF ALL KNOWN INDIVIDUALS OF SPECIES AMYGDALINE (“PEQUOD”) AS OF JANUARY 1 2008, LISTED BY NUMBER, ESPERANTO CODE NAME, FUNCTION (IF KNOWN), CASTE (IF KNOWN), AND STATUS (IF KNOWN)
Inarajan, Guam Event- “Fremda” February 26, 1971
AG- ETI- 001 - “Čefo”technocratcaste: Oligarchstatus: d. (9/20/2007)
AG- ETI- 002 - “Esperas”diplocratcaste: Oligarchstatus: RNSC Building 112
AG- ETI- 003 - “Brako”stratocratcaste: Similarstatus: RNSC Building 112
AG- ETI- 004 - “Kruro”stratocratcaste: Similarstatus: d. (10/7/2007).... etc. etc.
Dudes.... This string of gibberish ( AG- ETI- 003 - “Brako”stratocratcaste: Similarstatus: RNSC Building 1120) goes on for
4 FUCKING PAGES!!! 442 WORDS!!!

We are at about 1,200 words in and haven't even begun the FIRST FUCKING CHAPTER!!!

I know Michael Crichton started his chapter with some some technobabble, but he actually researched whatever technological crap he was writing about, and made it interesting. Also he wrote Jurassic Park. This trash is just a wine-soaked Lindsay desperately trying to project importance into her space-raptor porn book. Wait... tech-babble openers, space raptors, technology and corrupted powers that be... does this bitch think she's Michael Crichton?


Finally, the book starts.
Part 1
It's a Fool Who Plays it Cool (no this isn't one of my snarky made up titles, this is hers)

January 7, 2008
Oh, goodie. An election year. And this book is where she's going to suck Obama's dick.

A whole page: one sentence
A RTICLE 14.1 Everyone has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution.

Lindsay, would you please start the fucking story, already?

And then a news article. Another 500 words! GODAMMIT!! It's like she's stalling, because she doesn't want to write this shit any more than anybody wants to read it.
December 14, 2007
The New York Times
A Third Option
To answer legal questions regarding the rights of extraterrestrial intelligences, we must think outside the box.
BY JANO MIRANDA
This week, protests in the capital spilled into violence as demonstrators in front of the White House, demanding accountability, clashed with police. The Cheney administration has seen a steady stream of resignations ever since President Cheney took office, and despite record-low approval ratings for the new president himself, he still refuses to address the topic at the center of these demonstrations: The people want to know the truth about First Contact.
I don’t condone what violence there has been, but we have... horseshit, horseshit and more horseshit!
Here I let out an audible graon. If you recall, Bush resigned in disgrace because he didn't tell the people there were weird albino space raptors. Riots, stock market crash etc, etc.
As I said in my previous review, this dumb bitch knows nothing about pop-culture or Ufology. It is widely believed that every president is hiding the truth about aliens, so this narrative makes no fucking sense. The entire world wouldn't be losing it's shit becuase George Bush hid the truth of aliens, This is stupid, stupid, stupid!
The de facto presumption right now, communicative or no, is that any intelligent extraterrestrial beings have existed and continue to exist in a sort of legal gray area, enjoying no real legal protections and beholden to no human law. Those on the left cry out against the former, those on the right cry out against the latter. And the rest of the world is similarly hamstrung, waiting and holding its breath to see what the United States will do, as the United States is, for the moment, the only country that actually knows what it is dealing with.
This is just a heavy-handed way to screech loudly "alien rights is human rights, derrrr," and to rehash the last book. If you remember half her first book was just rehashing the very shit you just read.
So the discussion has us at an impasse; either we grant ETIs, knowing absolutely nothing about their similarities or differences to us, full human rights, or we grant them no rights. The idea that these are our only two options strikes me as odd because part of what makes us human is our ability to problem solve, to innovate.
I would like to suggest a third option.
And it just ends there.
Finally, Chpater 1 starts. But I'll have to break this review up, it's too long before we even get to the first fucking sentence of the first fucking chapter.
This fucking book is going to be an absolute slog.
Fuck you Lindsay. Why didn't you abort this project as easily as you do human life?
To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Tue Nov 02, 2021 8:36 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl
Chapter 1: PART 2 Finally, the “””Story”””
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Ok, finally, we get to the opening chapter.
“Hey, anyone home?”
Cora blinked, shooting to attention. “Yes.”
Shooting to attention? I had forgotten her characters are always jerking about like malfunctioning robots.
She blinked again, trying to snap out of the mind fog that had been plaguing her all morning. The fluorescent lights in this conference room were the frequency of knives. “Scio has declined to speak.”
Sol shot her a millisecond of a glare, then faced the brigadier general seated on the other side of the conference table. “If he says he’s not going to talk to us, that’s pretty much that for the day.”
Cora is still the alien's mouthpiece, which is an easy job since they don't ever want to speak to anyone. VIPs from every guv'ment agency shows up to get reassured the aliens are behaving. I don't remember who Scio is, and I'm not looking it up. Besides, I'm expecting 12 pages of rehash coming soon anyway.
“I know it’s a strange situation,” said ROSA director Sevak “Dr. Sev” Ghasabian, flanked on his right by Cora’s aunt Luciana. A fiftysomething with sharp features and a head like a cue ball, he preferred Dr. Sev, just in case anyone was unclear on which degree he’d completed.
That's rich coming from Lindsay who trumpeted her 1 week at the #6 spot on the NYT Best Sellers list all over her social media, even at one point challenging some conservative to a debate noting her Best Seller status as credentials. I posted that somewhere in the Ncunt thread somehwere. Her official greeting at social events is, “Hi, Lindsay, best selling author and essayist, and you are?”

Another paragraph of woe is Cora, because all these heads of agencies want to talk to the aliens, but the aliens don't want to talk.
The brigadier general, a square-shouldered man who looked like a Boy Scout wearing age makeup, still ignored Cora. She wondered if it was because of who she was, since he was being noticeably dismissive to Luciana, too. Perhaps it was because they were members of the Ortega family, and her father, Nils Ortega, was presently the biggest force of chaos on this earth besides the aliens. Given that they were the only women in the room, it could also be shameless misogyny. Or both!
And there it is. Page 2. Wonder why it took so long to start the woke shit?
“But we have no way of verifying that, do we? I find it highly questionable that an unqualified teenage civilian is the only ‘communication intermediary’ between extraterrestrial intelligences and the American government.”
Yeah, no shit.
That lit an anxiety fuse inside her. She wasn’t a teenager, and no one was qualified to be a communication intermediary, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t pressed just about every insecurity button she had.

It's not that he doesn't want to deal with this walking emotionally unstable walnut, it's that he hates women.
“Yes,” she said, leaving it at that. She didn’t want to give this man any ammo to confirm his suspicions of how out of place she was here. She was a college dropout with no training and no certifications and was only given top-secret clearance after Ampersand’s refusal to communicate without her stretched for an entire week before they panicked and let her into the club. So here she sat, underqualified, underpaid, and completely unappreciated. But she kept on, kept enduring this workplace, not only because a recession that was rapidly tumbling into a depression meant that jobs were scarce but because it was the only way she could guarantee access to Ampersand. Not that it was doing her mental health any favors, since the space aliens were also the root of most of her ills.
Look I know these woke people are retarded, but why undercut your 'muh misogyny” by proving Cora is an unqualified nut? Why would this General or anybody want to deal with her?

And now a running inner monologue how she has to lie to her psychiatrist that it was hoomans that had kidnapped her and not aliens.
So she told the psych a story about being kidnapped by a human person, an ex of some sort. He had held her under threat of violence, and when she fought back, he stabbed her several times. She’d survived the ordeal, but now there were nightmares. Nightmares and panic attacks and random bouts of crying and irritability and all sorts of fun times that had not been there before.
This, however, was a gamble of a story to tell, because if someone were to ask to see the scars, she would be found for a liar, because there were none. Ampersand was very good at operating on the human body like it was a machine...
Oh, baby!
...stitching her ambulatory sack of meat and water back together like a mechanic would repair a car. Good as new, no one would be able to tell it was ever in an accident.
She's diagnosed with PTSD, because of course. We live in a world where people like Pushing Up Roses self-diagnoses with PTSD from weighing herself at the doctor's office. PTSD it's the default “it's not my fault I'm shitty” go to excuse.
Cora is prescribed Prozac, but she can't afford it, because libtard talking point # 12 “America's healthcare system is Hitler” and #13 “Drug companies are Hitler”.
ROSA did not offer benefits, and although still technically just below the poverty line, she now made too much money to qualify for California’s state-run health care system, MediCAL, leaving her in the limbo between with no health insurance.
See?

So Ampersand is also called Scio. Was that established in the last book? Does it matter? No. Maybe Lindsay realized “Ampersand” was dumb, or got tired of typing that out all the time and opted for a shorter name. I'm betting the latter.
Anyway, broody brood Scio isolates himself from the group of aliens, because he and Esperas (one of the other head aliens that did stuff in the last book, that I'm not bothering to look up) are still having a tiff.
Wait, no. We're still going with Ampersand. Scio is his code name.
….
Why make this more complicated? As last time I'm not typing out Ampersand every damn time and shortening it to simply &.
Everyone looked at Cora, and she tried to blink away the nuclear explosion going off in extreme slow motion behind her left eyeball.
Calm the fuck down, Lindsay.
“Do we know why they won’t be in the same room together?”
Again everyone looked at Cora.
Oh, she knew why, all right. Unbeknownst to the other humans in the room, Esperas had a special hate-on for Ampersand owing to his failure to disclose his relationship to the leader of the group of Similars who had been hunting them last year, code name: “Obelus.” The same Similar who had nearly killed her.
“We think it has something to do with one of their cultural taboos,” she lied. “I’m not entirely sure.”
I'm not explaining this shit again. Go read my review of the first book. I'll be honest here, I'm not really trying to follow this stupid, convoluted plot. It's boring, and uninteresting. So, I might miss a “key” plot point here and there. But, really, does it matter?

The general wants to know why Esperas doesn't need a human translator like & does. Probably, trying to work out if they can just get rid of Cora.
“It’s a matter of preference,” she said. “Scio feels like he needs an impartial intermediary to speak for him to better ensure that his meaning is getting across in the way he wants.”
“And Esperas does not?”
Esperas doesn’t care , thought Cora. Esperas had the luxury of hiding behind his own Similar, his “heavy,” and no one could make him talk to anyone. It had been assumed last year that both of the Fremda group’s Similars, their only form of protection, had been killed by Obelus. Cora found out later that was only half-true, as Brako, the one who had been thought killed at NORAD, survived, and was now just fine.
“Esperas has never requested a human intermediary,” said Dr. Sev.
See what I mean about this meaningless plot? The general doesn't seem to understand this shit either. Almost like some part of Lindsay's brain is trying to get past the other wine soaked brain cells to tell her, this shit is stupid.
The general asks if Esperas ain't there, why don't & talk with them? And I ask, why doesn't the military go in strap that asshole down and waterboard him until he spills every thing he knows. Why the fuck is the military pussy-footing around this obnoxious uncooperative alien, who has knowledge of a possible hostile alien force? Why are they allowing Cora to dictate when and what information they get?
Stupid!
This guy was like a fork raking over the chalkboard of her nerves, and she could feel the beginnings of a meltdown. She tried to focus on breathing normally while Dr. Sev offered some placating half truth to General Brigadier. Not now , she told herself. Not now, not now.
We've raised such a fragile, and mentally unstable generation of young people.
So, Cora and the General go round and round, while Lindsay tries out the worst writing she can creatively contrive.
She could hear the blood thumping through her skull. She was genuinely beginning to worry this was a prologue to an aneurysm.
“Yes, but why ?” If her eyeball were about to explode, this man would be the detonator.
And then this, when the general presses for a reason why & won't talk with them.
“What is his reasoning?”
“I . . . I’m not sure,” she said.
“Come on, we know you have an excuse,” said Sol, frustrated. “Let’s hear it.”
In the three months she had been an employee at ROSA, Sol had never disrespected her that overtly. Even the brigadier general looked uncomfortable. Sol seemed to realize he’d stepped over a line, and corrected himself.
Uh... what? Did Lindsay forget to write something here? “Disrespected her that overtly?”
But the spiral had already begun, the last Jenga block holding the tower in place pulled out, and she was collapsing.
This fucking writing.
“He’s busy.”
“Busy doing what?” asked Sol.
“I don’t know. Excuse me,” she said, barely holding it together. “I need to use the restroom.”
“We’re not finished,” said Sol.
“Please excuse me.”
And then...
She didn’t make it to the end of the hallway before she started running. By then, the bomb had gone off, the tower was collapsing. She fled to the nearest single-stall bathroom and had only just shut the door behind her before her breathing turned into audible shrieking so loud that anyone passing by could hear it. She fell to the tile floor, wrapping her arms around her midsection, begging her traitorous windpipe to quiet down. Sol will hear it, he’ll hear it, and he’ll take your clearance! He’s been looking for an excuse to revoke your clearance, he wants you gone, stop stop stop! This was the third one inside of a week.
Her throat burned, her eyes watered, and she grabbed fistfuls of hair in the hope that the pain would provide some sort of stopgap, short-circuit the panic. She pulled and pulled, then dug her fingernails into her skull until she felt moisture on her fingertips. She was so deep in her own torment...
Guys, if this is the focus of the book, then I'm not sure I'm going to finish this review. The first book was so retarded it was fun. This is just agonizing. I'm sure for people like Lindsay this shit is a normal part of their day, to me this is insanity. I'll continue for now.

Oh, Cora wonders if & can feel her pain, because here's some tech-babble for you.
Dynamic fusion bonding was what he called it, the way that members of an amygdaline “phyle” bound themselves to each other. Dynamic fusion bonding was the crux of amygdaline social structure, with members of a phyle called symphyles. Symphyles were bound to each other in the familial sense, if not the alien equivalent of the biblical one, which she was pretty sure would be the case if these guys hadn’t evolved past reproducing the old-fashioned way. Ampersand had told her that when he had attempted to fusion bond with her, he had expected it to fail, because he was a sleek and sophisticated 650-ish-year-old cyborg alien technocrat Oligarch Oligarch and she was a lowly human, a being of meat and hair. And yet now here they were, bound together, ’til death do us part.
The ability to sense each other’s “state” was also a part of the package, only there was no rhyme or reason to how intensely they felt each other. Sometimes he couldn’t sense her at all, sometimes it was, in his words, “ mildly debilitating .” She hoped now was not one of those times, hoped he wasn’t feeling his own alien equivalent of this tempest.
Fuck, Lindsay. They didn't bother with an editor with you, did they?
Side note: before Cora had referred to herself as “meat and water” here it's “meat and hair.” Weird.

Anyway, & sends her a mind message.
Dear one, come to me. ”
She tried to get words out, but they weren’t coming. She could barely comprehend what he was asking.
“ Dear one, come to me, I will stop it. ”
“I can’t,” she garbled. “I can’t. Someone will see!”
“ I can stop it. ”
“Someone will see!” she all but shrieked. “I’ll lose my clearance. Sol is always looking for an excuse to revoke my clearance, if they see me like this! If they see me like this!
& appears using those metal disks things from the book before.
It took a few dozen breaths before she could tear herself away from the wall, collapse onto the plate, curl into a fetal position, and let the liquid metal sweep over her, enveloping her in darkness.
She beams over to &'s crib.
she could almost see Ampersand standing over her—giant by human standards at over eight feet tall, even with his forward-leaning center of gravity like a silver velociraptor. Long clawlike fingers floated over her, a head that was somewhere between a dragon and a praying mantis looked down at her.
Again, I challenge you to try to imagine what this thing is supposed to look like.
“ Do you consent to be medicated? ”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
“Yes,” she pleaded. “Yes, please, make it stop, make it stop!”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

So he injects her with syringes from his fingers like Wolverine.
Then with both hands, he caressed her cheeks, then her temples, then ran his fingers through her hair. In doing so, he caught where she had made herself bleed with her fingernails. “ Why do you do this? ”
“I wanted . . . to make it . . . stop,” she said between breaths. “I . . . don’t know . . . I just . . . wanted . . . it . . . to stop.”
He’d already repaired the damage on one side of her head by the time her breathing slowed to something normal, which was so superficial he could do it with one hand.
They cuddle for a minute. Cora then gets worried about the security cameras.
“The cameras . . .,” she breathed. “You’ve still . . . They won’t . . .”
“ They will not see anything I do not allow. ”
She closed her eyes. He’d done this before; hacking human surveillance was old hat to him. She suspected that he spent most of his time outside of the complex with the people at ROSA none the wiser, but she had no idea where he went if he did. The few times she had asked, he evaded the question.
Shit this review is getting too long. Basically, & notes her PTSD is getting worse (no shit Sherlock) and he says he should have studied the problem sooner for a cure. Some therapeutic some chemical.
“ I will need to insert monitors, see how your brain chemistry changes over time, when you are at peace, and when you are frightened, when you have nightmares, and when you have panic attacks. ”
“You want to do that while I’m at work?”
“ You do not feel safe here. It should be in a location where you feel safe. And also where you can sleep. ”
“I suppose my apartment is as good as it gets.”
“ Then I will find you there tonight. ”
“And then what?”
“ And I will begin the study, and begin to arrange a therapeutic schedule. ”
The substance Ampersand used to calm her down had a way of also numbing her in all regards. But even through that fog, she felt like her heart might fall out of her chest in gratitude. If anyone could fix this, she knew, he could.
End of Chpater.
Good God! This is like reading the diary/manifesto of a crazy person.
Guys, I don't know if I can slog through this shit. I'm busy for the next couple of days, but I'll get to Chapter 2 when I can.

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Thu Nov 04, 2021 6:23 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 2: Sleepless in Seattle
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Sigh. Chapter two. Here's a sentence in the first paragraph.
She’d even cleaned her apartment up to her not-very-exacting standards, though she wasn’t sure why; everything was dirty, toxic, deadly Earth atmosphere to him, with its cruel sun, unbreathable air, and multitudinous pathogens waiting to destroy his systems if the biosynthetic engineered barrier that protected his organic parts broke down; what was a little unsorted recycling?
No editor was involved with this “book.” BTW Cora is just waiting for & to show like a nervous date. She needs that therapy bad! POOF! He just appears.

Again, try to imagine this thing.
The crown of his dirigible-shaped head, flaring out like a triceratops, nearly touched the top of her nine-foot ceiling. In tungsten light, his almond eyes always shone redder, his off-white “skin” slightly darker. She knew now that it was skin much in the way that humans had skin, but instead of individual living cells, his body was covered in billions of microscopic drones, which lent him some limited shape-shifting ability, such as the ability to form a syringe from the tips of his fingers, or the ability to become completely invisible.
Microscopic drones. In the hands of a more competent... person, this could be an interesting idea. Here it feels like she's just adding scifi tropes like pouring beer in chili because she heard that makes it good.

A full paragraph describing the shitty furniture in her shity apartment. What's a full-sized Malm from Ikea? Don't answer that; I don't really care.

& discovers a hidden camera in a smoke detector. So, they move on to implanting a monitor into Cora's brain. Oh wait, more on those drone things.
most of the automation he used was inside his own head, his tools willed into existence from the microscopic drones that covered his entire body, flowed through him like blood. From his fingertips, he produced three drone lights that hung in the air a few feet over her. She’d seen him use the drone lights a few times when he was studying something, and they were among her favorite tricks in his arsenal... They hung in the air like marble-size suns, but the light was soft, like warm red fireflies.
He inserts the monitor which is as thin as a hair. Then he explains, after being asked, that he wants to also monitor their bond. Because their bond is unike anything he;s ever heard of. Of course it is. She's special. But he's puzzled by the “emphatic nature” of their bond.
“What do you mean?” she asked, keeping her jaw locked, moving her lips as little as possible.
“ The ability to sense and share mood swings, this is unheard of in dynamic fusion bonding.
What does he want to do about it?
Eliminate the side effect so that we are no longer affected by each other’s moods.
Yeah, asshole, I would be worried too if I was in danger of hysteryonics like PushingUpRoses after dropping her ice cream sandwich into the toilet.

So, many many words to explain the benefits and drawbacks of being bonded like this. Drawbacks? Being in Cora's retarded head. Benefits? Less talking. And this...
It had likewise made him a quick study on the art of physically comforting her; before, she’d had to give him specific instruction on exactly where and how to touch her, which was not only tedious but wasn’t particularly enjoyable,
Ah, Lindsay's idea of the perfect fuck boi, making it all about herself.

Cora wants to put Pjs on. But to get naked in front of raptor boy here?
Amygdalines were, even by the standards of their own species, completely asexual. With the exception of their Genomes, they were born sterile, and even their ancestors didn’t experience sexuality the way humans do, because a human will, of course, fuck anything.
Fuck anything. Lindsay's World, but at least the raptor is Ace and non-threatening. The rest of the paragraph is Cora trying to be tactful in asking & to cuddle in bed with her. The fuck? Then why did you spend a page telling us these kind of things didn't need to be asked? He just knew! It was the fucking page before this one, you vapid whore!

Anyway, they figure it out. She cuddles. His skin is like “a bamboo shark she'd once touched at the aquarium.”

Bamboo shark. That is too specific for Lindsay to pull out of her ass.
With that sense of rightness, that sense of comfort, that sense of safety also came the shame. What if someone saw this? What would people think? What if people knew that this went beyond not being horrified by this but actually liking it?
Does Lindsay even remember what shame feels like?

And now, because this shit is so important to this generation, let's get our identifiers labeled and processed.
She’d felt somewhat asexual ever since she’d met Ampersand, perhaps a side effect of the fusion bonding. She’d gone to a couple of gay clubs to try to hook up with a girl, but struck out there. Then she’d gone to a regular bar and found a guy, some white-collar brobro who worked for an insurance agency or something. He had a name like Paul or Chad or Dave, a receding hairline and a round, ruddy, meaty face that could have been twenty-five or forty-five. She’d gone home with him, let him have his way, in part because she was drunk but also because she wanted to see if she could feel something. It was dry and unpleasant and painful, and Paul or Chad or whatever his name was invaded her mouth with his tongue like he was a sandworm of Arrakis. She didn’t even spend the night with him.
That wasn’t affection. That wasn’t satisfying. This was.
Again, that seems way too specific to be made up. Of course Lindsay used to call this Friday nights out.
As Cora thinks about this, she has a mild panic attack over if this is natural or not. No, Cora, it's not. It's only slightly less abnormal than being a furry. I got jokes. & wants to sedate her. I'm liking him more and more. She does not give consent. Then a wiki blurb on PTSD.
One of the hallmarks of PTSD was a loss of a sense of safety.
As part of her therapy, he wants to schedule cuddles every night. One thing about these INs and their followers that astounds me is their uniform emotional immaturity. Cora is in her early 20s but Lindsay is pushing 40 folks, and this is her self-insert fantasy. I wouldn't be surprised if they go to Disneyland together in the future.
This is so fucked up. Why do I like this? I should be with a human. This is so fucked up.
He promises to stay till she falls asleep. She loves this because like many women, as long as their needs, and their needs alone are met all waking hours then they might be OK. He strokes her. She requests sedation.
I love you , she thought, not for the first time as she drifted off to sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Dude, it would be better to go back to your planet and face execution than to stay involved with this crazy bitch. Seriously.

End of chapter.

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Thu Nov 04, 2021 6:58 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl, Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 3 So Many Words, So Little Happening:
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Chapter 3.
Cora is warned if she hissy-fits runs out of another meeting, she's fired.
If & doesn't start talking then the ebil DOD will take over. Oh No! Also OH NO is the DOD may try to weaponize what Obelus did. A refresher:
“More noteworthy,” added Stevie, “that Obelus was able to break into enough levels of encrypted correspondence that he was able to locate a CIA caravan with basically no paper trail.”
Cora suppressed a shudder at the memory of that caravan. Four CIA agents had been tasked with transporting Cora and the Fremdan Genome, a collection of what Ampersand had described as “genetic material,” which turned out to be a living, breathing alien person , to an undisclosed location, but Obelus had found them before they got there. Cora and the Genome had been the only ones to make it out alive.
“What does that have to do with defense?” she asked, shaking the memory off.
Again, that awkward silence, like her hamster had died but no one wanted to break it to her.
“Let me put it this way,” said Luciana. “They are not thinking in terms of defense. ”
It took Cora a moment to see what Luciana was getting at. “Oh my God.”
“What Obelus did, while terrifying, could potentially be repurposed by the military,” said Dr. Sev.
“If an ETI can break into NORAD after following a trail of badly encrypted emails, an ETI can probably find bin Laden”
Cora didn’t react, stunned that it was being floated anywhere, at any level of government, that the Fremda group could be used for military purposes. But wasn’t it more naive to be surprised? Of course they were thinking like that. This is America. Besides, she couldn’t say she hadn’t had thoughts like that. Not “find and kill bin Laden,” exactly, but if Ampersand put his mind to it, he could do some terrifying things, and he was in no way beholden to human scruples.
But by that same token, he could also do some good things. Great things, even. How many of humanity’s problems could be solved by technologies it was well within his capacity to innovate?
But, of course, extrajudicial killing would be the first thing they’d think of, wouldn’t it?
“But why is it the DOD that’s being loudest?” asked Cora. “If Cheney’s so desperate for a political win, can’t you just ask him to, like, cure AIDS or something?”

Because AIDS is helping to keep the fag population down, Cora, you dumb bitch.

She MUST convince & to tell them in person to fuck off... for some reason.
Cora: Talk to the mean men.
&: No! I don't wanna.
Cora: Please?
He raised a finger, placing it on her neck and grazing it upward along her skin, a little too gently. She flinched and giggled. “Sorry, that tickles.”
She felt a similar sensation from the other side of her neck—a surprise attack from his other hand, and she giggled and shied away from him. She started to correct him, but then realized he was doing it on purpose. This was him being playful.
&: Ok, sugar tits. Anything for you.

End of Chapter 3

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Mon Nov 08, 2021 5:07 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl. Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 4: Absolute Shit
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Chapter starts with this shit
SpoilerShow
PRESS RELEASES
HOME | NEWS | PRESS RELEASES
January 18, 2008
HOUSE COMMITTEE JOINS JANO MIRANDA
TO TALK “PERSONHOOD THIRD OPTION”
WASHINGTON-The House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology Chair Carolyn Wang (D-WA) and Vice Chair Ryan Mellin (R-GA) joined Jano Miranda of the Aristotle Institute for Human Rights to discuss the Select Committee’s work. Established in 2007 as part of Hillsdale College, the Aristotle Institute is committed to “combining philosophy and technology to create a constructive debate and authentic dialogue in order to meaningfully outline what it means to be human, and how we should define personhood in the 21 st Century.”
The Chair and Vice Chair spoke about options regarding the potential legal status of autonomous extraterrestrial intelligences, and the recent recommendations outlining a special set of legal standing and personhood rights for potential nonhuman intelligences as they might differ from rights for humans.
As with all women, complete attention and devotion still doesn't satisfy them. Unknowingly, Lindsay is proving that feminism, and treating women in business and voting as equals was a mistake.
It had been a couple of weeks, and what was at first exciting had become routine.
So he would come over every night, and stay until she fell asleep. She would bable on and on, and he would answer her inane questioning about the (and I quote) “life, the universe, and everything...”

Fuck you Lindsay. Don't quote Douglas Adams. You're not in the same league as Douglas Adams, not even close. You're not clever nor funny. And it's out of place in your stupid space-raptor non-sex porn fantasy.

Then she proves my point with idiotic string of words.
It felt like a relationship. A friendship form of relationship, of course. A friendship-relationship. Yes.
What the FUCK are you talking about?! A friendship IS a relationship, you drunken, vapid WHORE! Lindsay is so stupid. Friendship-relationship. Unbelievable.

BTW, this was just the first half page of the chapter.
He had her all but pinned up next to the wall as he always did, his body on one side of her and one hand on the other. She glanced at that hand, arguably the most alien thing about him, mere inches from her face, and once again was struck by the thought that this was not normal, and she really should not be okay with this.
This is Lindsay's insecurity again. She is highlighting, putting in bold, and undelining, that her character isn't the same ilk as a furry, and this isn't about sex.

Then she slaps this into the same paragraph.
The four digits on the top were structured more like human fingers, with the two on the bottom on either side; the “thumbs” bore a striking resemblance to the forelimbs of a spider. His fingers weren’t attached with dozens of metacarpals but seemed to her more like hydraulics attached at a ball joint, held together up to the “knuckles” with a film that looked like a layer of skin rather than a meaty palm as seen in humans. It should be horrifying, but it wasn’t. Maybe humans could get used to anything with enough time.
I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it: no editor was involved in this “book.”

Anyway, & insists that after weeks, she will sleep without sedatives. Cora needs her sedatives. She no wanting nightmares. & is like, “Nah.”
”Sleep now, dear one. ”
She felt a warmth in her chest at the sound of his pet name for her, what he called a hypocorism.
Cringe writing.

And again...
She nodded and closed her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? She was half-naked in bed with a thousand-year-old (or 650-year-old, depending on how you measured time), eight-and-a-half-foot-tall alien cyborg, and the thing she was afraid of in this situation was the act of going to sleep ?
“I'm NOT writing raptor porn, guys!”
Cora insists & wake her up if she starts to have a nightmare. Like if he notices her spazzing like my dog when she sleeps?
“ I will, my dearest. ”
Her heart did a little flip. My dearest!
God.

This shit gets mind-numbingly dull. Look at this shit.
From what she could tell, amygdaline names were less “names” as humans conceived them so much as labels that had to do with one’s relationship to the speaker and were very tied in with their caste system. One wasn’t addressed as “Steve” or “Karen,” so much as “Mom” or “bro” or “ senpai. ” At first, Ampersand had addressed her with an impersonal “ you ” or “ interpreter ,” but after the dynamic fusion bonding, it was “ dear one. ” Was “ my dearest ” an upgrade?
And another.
She felt the impulse to respond, “I love you,” because it was true. She had come to terms with that by now— love was the word for it, as it would be for any friend, only this friend happened not to be human. This was Aristotle’s philia , a dispassionate virtuous love of function. Not of passion, never of passion. But she knew he wouldn’t return the sentiment, at least not verbally, and that would ruin the moment. Instead, she closed her eyes and said, “Thank you.”
There was no shame in this. No, people would not understand, but they didn’t know and did not need to.
We get it already Lindsay. How many times are you going to beat this horse in this chapter alone?

Answer: At least once more.
After all, it wasn’t like they were fucking.
“Guys do you get it? This ain't no fetish porn! It ain't! It ain't. I say! I'm too good to stoop that low!”
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
*record scratch

Say what now?
Her eyes shot open at the thought, a thought she had been trying really very hard not to have. But really, it was just a thought, not a terrible one, it wasn’t like they were going to act on it. The thought didn’t send any warm flush between her legs, didn’t make her cheeks grow hot.
But still, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
How would that even work?
I think I know what she's doing here. See, Lindsay's whole schtick is that she's smarter and better than you. So, she's not going to write fetish porn(because that's low brow), but at the same time she's not going to shame those inclinations (because she's a degenerate). So, she's a “serious” writer and gets to virtue signal at the same time. See? She's just so fucking clever.

Except she wrote a terrible, terrible book. Uh, two actually.

What follows I have to copy and paste uniterrupted. I'm putting it in a spoiler tag to save space, but seriously, read this shit.
SpoilerShow
Humans are inventive. You’ve said it yourself. Humans will fuck anything.
This thought should be revolting, but now that she was beginning to humor it, she couldn’t help but think, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. He’d be gentle, he’d be considerate, he’d likely be a quick study. Unlike Bill or Frank or Chad, he wouldn’t use her, he wouldn’t be centering his own pleasure.
Brain, brain, please, I am begging you, stop these thoughts please stop stop stop.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Where the hell are these thoughts coming from?
“ You are agitated. ”
“No . . .” Her lie was so bad, even a space alien wouldn’t be convinced by it.
“ You are anxious. ”
Okay. Strange how speaking for him and effectively being the diplomat for his words hadn’t made speaking diplomatically to him any easier. “I’m just thinking about, um . . .”
Getting fucked by a space monster.
She winced. “You’re not doing anything wrong, I’m not made uncomfortable by you , but the idea of . . .” She dared a glimpse down her body, how close they were, the way his arm had her tucked near him like she was an egg he was incubating. “Someone seeing us like this. I don’t think they’d understand. I guess I have some shame at the idea.”
“ I understand.
And & has shame as well.

HAHAHAHA!!!

He desires Cora!

HAHAHAHA!!!! I would be ashamed of that too! This is shit.
“ I desire to know you. ”
“Oh,” she said, relaxing a little. “You mean . . . high language?”
“ Yes. I desire to know you. You are a natural, an alien, an animal, but you are my symphyle all the same. ”
She let a breath out. Okay, not that kind of desire, not in the human sense.
Then a running narrative of psuedo, alien techno-babble about & and their language. But something, something about “high language.”

I scanned this rediculous shit. Read it if you want.
SpoilerShow
High language isn’t truly a language at all. A language is a medium, and medium is the only way humans have to communicate ideas. Spoken language is a medium, written language is a medium, music is a medium. High language is the absence of medium. ”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“ A medium is not an idea. A medium is a means to communicate an idea. It is an interpretation of ideas, of concepts, of your lived experience. But through high language, my consciousness experiences your consciousness as you experience it, and vice versa. There is no medium.
Just say psychically linked, you fucking hack. This shit is tedious and boring to read. It's obvious you're trying to tip toe around the scifi tropes by inventing a new way to say something that's familiar in the genre, just so YOU can feel like you're more clever than other writers. Tropes exist for a reason.

Then rambling boring prose exploring Cora's insecurities.
“...she had feared that he could actually read her mind,..”

“But in this context, the idea that he’d actually thought about it, on some level wanted it, horrified her.”

"What could possibly disgust him more than truly knowing what it was like to be human? To exist inside her human body? To actually know her evil impulses, her sprawling self-loathing, her disdain for her coworkers, her embarrassing attempts at songwriting, the weird shit she (used to) masturbate to? Perhaps he had a desire to know her as a result of dynamic fusion bonding, but that didn’t mean he really wanted it."
Why won't this chapter end?
“Why is that a source of shame?”
“ It is the product of a diseased mind. ”
She relaxed her posture, confused, and looked up at him. “You mean me?”
“ My mind. ”
“What do you mean?”
“ My brain is damaged, as is yours, but mine far worse, irreparable in many regards.
Lindsay can relate.
“I . . .” There was a part of her that was offended. He categorized his decision to bind himself to her as the product of a sick mind?
“ We are different species. It is perverse. It is bestial. ”
There it was, the word she’d been avoiding. She pressed her cheek into the nape of his neck. Bestial.
Did Lindsay watch that movie about the woman fucking the fish man (the one by Guillermo Del Toro that won an Oscar) and get inspired? I don't know why anyone felt this needed to be explored in a silly fiction book.

Something about they are unable to “high language”. Don't care.
“At least we can’t act on these . . . desires,” she whispered. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
She tried to relax and go to sleep, tried to reassure herself of what felt like something of a consensus—that these thoughts were okay to have, because it wasn’t like they could be acted on, anyway. It was for the best. But even so, as she began to doze, she got the sense that that wasn’t what he wanted her to say.
Mercifully, end of the chapter.

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Mon Nov 08, 2021 7:19 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl. Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 5: Office Spaced
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

We are on Chapter 5. CHAPTER 5 and nothing, NOTHING HAS HAPPENEd!!! According to my ebook reader, we're 10% done!

Anyway,
Cora got the email for an all-hands meeting that morning at around 4:30— “ETI LEGAL STATUS CONGRESSIONAL INQUIRY.” She had known this was coming for months, as had everyone at ROSA,
I'm so bored.
It had been first pitched by a law professor named Jano Miranda, a young constitutional lawyer with a gift for public speaking. The Third Option, a proposed law that would create an entirely new category of personhood, led to the creation of the nascent Third Party, a bipartisan.... blah, blah, blah.
As exciting as senate procedures in A Phantom Menace.

A congressman is leading up hearings. A real contender to win against Cheney. (where the fuck is Obama?)
Todd Julian, the junior senator from Illinois. A libertarian-minded sort...
Uh huh.

Cora coaxes & to the big meeting. Lots of Generals and military types. Surprisingly (for some reason it's surprising), Esperas and the remaining retarded aliens are there. And OH NO! The Similar Brako is there!

Who the fuck is Brako? Meh, I don't remember. Apparently, this is a great breach of trust and moody & would never agree to another meeting.

Who is Brako, again? Fuck it. The meeting is about to start, Cora's aunt Lucianna asks the raptors if they understand that their personhood will be determined. Yes.

& just repeats that he wasn't told that they would be here.
Esperas spoke, and the flat-screen translated:
[My stance remains one of noninvolvement. The humans will choose laws which are best for them. I do not seek to sway your lawmakers one way or the other.]
“Okay,” said Sol, looking at Cora. “Rebuttal?”
“ I was not told Esperas would be here. He can see the disease.
Zzzzz.
She’d never seen Ampersand like this, never felt his emotions so thoroughly override his self-control. She tried to stay focused, but she was having a hard time staying put together herself. He wasn’t answering Sol’s questions, so it was on her to come up with an answer.
“Scio feels that, among other things, he should have the right to control his own space. The problem with the Third Option is that it would preclude, among other things, the ability to own property, the ability to control wealth, the ability to participate in any kind of civic activity. He’d effectively have to have a human chaperone in order to stay within the United States, and if the United States decides that’s how to deal with ETIs, most other countries will follow suit.”
“So he opposes the Third Option.”
“Correct.”
At this point I'm mostly quoting, because I'm too disinterested to comment.
So, the debate begins. Cora notices with alarm that & is slightly swaying; an inch to the left, then an inch to the right. She must get him out of here.

They debate giving them proper names. *eyes rolling
Christopher Goodman in a country with a history of forcing the indigenous people to adopt ‘Christian’ names in order to appear more ‘civilized.’
Just stop.

& is still freaking out.
They can see. I can’t sleep. The Similar will find us. They will not suffer my disease. They will kill us.
Doubtful. Lindsay has a trilogy planned.
“But anything else is going to stick out, too,” said Luciana. “African names, Indian names, that’s appropriation. Chinese names, that’s—”
“Fallen American Empire,” said Sol. “Bad idea. Anything that ‘sounds’ foreign to WASPy American ears is a bad idea.”
“ I can’t sleep. They will find us. They will kill us. ”
This is what Lindsay's circles consider “profound.”

Cora starts to sway too.
“Esperanto is completely based on European languages. It was invented by a Polish man.”
“ They can see, they can see my disease. ”
“How about Xethorp?” chuckled Sol. He was the only one laughing.
So, they keep babbling like this. Guys, this writing is so bad. FINALLY, something happens!

Two of the aliens Cora coined (with racists Jew names BTW) Woodward and Bernstein cry out ASYLUM!
That was when all hell broke loose. Ampersand swayed so hard he nearly hit the wall. Every human in the room started talking over each other at once. Esperas and Brako turned their attention from Ampersand to the two propagandists, who broke away from the rest of the underlings. The pair moved to the other side of the room, catty-corner from Esperas and Brako, who were bobbing their heads in bewilderment. More Pequod-phonemic screeching, loud Pequod-phonemic screeching:
[ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM.]
Woodward and Bernstein are rebelling. They want to cast off their castes.
[ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM.]
Stevie (forgot who that was, don't care) rushed the two out the nearest door. & stumbles and falls to the floor.
[ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM.]
Cora tries to help him up, but he weighs a ton.
[ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM. ASYLUM.]
I'm not gratuitously added those ASYLUM quotes. They're in there every 3rd or 4th sentence. Woodward and Bernstein are ushered out into the hall.
Brako and Esperas turned their attention to Ampersand. Esperas moved behind Brako, and spoke:
[That one is diseased. That one is dangerous.]
Cora strugges to get & up and out the door. Brako makes a move towards them, but is thrown back by an invisible shield. He goes through the drywall. Cora and & stumble down the hallway. & is goofy in the head but tries to go invisible.
as Cora dragged him down the hall, bewildered humans gawping as patches of his body slipped in and out of invisibility, sliding all over him like splotches of paint.
Like a PUR painting. BTW, as of posting this, Lindsay hasn't tweeted anything in a week. Embarrassed that this masterpiece has flopped?

Cora gets them to &'s “lair” and uses a transport disc. And with ALL the places in the word they could go, Cora chooses the shitty bedroom in her shitty apartment.
“Come on, it’s okay,” she said. “Get on the bed, it’s okay.”
He did as she said, but only just. He didn’t pull into his neat little roost like he usually did, but instead sprawled, curled away from her like an injured falcon backed into a corner, ready for a fight. His massive consciousness, the half-organic thing that controlled the unfathomably complicated machine of his body, had utterly collapsed in on itself.
Anywho, & forgets himself and becomes afraid of the “Monster. Flesh-eater. Pugilist. Militarist. Flesh-eater. Don’t eat me, don’t eat me, don’t eat me!

She tells him it's ok. She's ok. Now go to sleep. He don't wanna sleep. Too many dangers. They'll kill him. Cora will protect you! HAHAHAHA!!! Dude, is in trouble then.

And then.... Cora sings “Hey Jude.”

Fuck. This. Book.
He didn’t understand music, not really. Even the meaning of most lyrics was lost on him, but it wasn’t really meant for him; it soothed her, it helped her be the flotation device he could latch onto.
It took her several hours, the involvement of her guitar, and several repetitions of the Beatles’ kindest and gentlest repertoire, but eventually, she convinced him to sleep.
See? Now I like it when something actually happens. It's so bad it's entertaining. Up till now, it was just bad and boring.

So & falls alsleep and Cora senses a disconnect. And with that, the dull thrum of terror she's had for months slipped away. FOR YOU SEE, it was not Cora's terrror, but HIS!!!!

DUN DUN DUUUUNNNN!!!!

Of course. That explains how a strong indie womyn can be all fucked up. It was A MAN!
All this time, she had been worried about how her post-traumatic symptoms were affecting him, it had never occurred to her that it might work the other way around. How much of her symptoms came from him?
No, not all of it. Not even most of it, that much she could tell. The feeling of being out of place in her own body, the body that had betrayed her by giving into such violence when Obelus had skewered her, that trauma belonged to her. But that wasn’t all there was to it.
She's got to get them out of there before the other raptors find them. THEN whay didn't you use the disc for that?!
And if Ampersand were to ask for asylum in another country, maybe the Americans would stop being such dicks about the extending-human-rights issue here.
So, who does commie Lindsay thinks is a better place than 'Merica? Europe? China? Africa? The more woke place to think up the better, I'm betting.

But that's for another chapter.

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Thu Nov 11, 2021 3:18 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl. Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 6: Science is Feminine!
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

The first paragraph... egad.
Cora awoke with a sensation of pure terror, her heart pounding and the back of her throat on fire. It didn’t feel like the nightmares, it was more like she’d had her mind wrung out like a washcloth before being released from the prison of the subconscious. This was being thrown into a black hole of icy water, miles from shore, swirled in its maelstrom of terror and loss, unable to see anything, unable to feel anything but fear and ice.
Hey, Lindsay dear, imma going to rewrite this over-written crap for you. “Cora woke up to a panic attack.”

Apparently, & is having issues too. His head is “jerking and bumping against the wall.” Cora tries to soothes because something is very wrong. So, he up and gets the fuck out of there. Smart move. Keep going, boy.
Still moving with jolting, halted movements, he stood up on shaking legs, pushing past her like she wasn’t even there.
“Ampersand,” she said. “What’s going on?”
He moved to the window, and in a flash, the metal edges surrounding the glass glowed. He removed the window altogether, pulling it inside and dropping it to the floor. Then he wormed himself outside and up toward the roof.
Cora dashes to the roof where Emo & is staring up at the sky.

BTW I just realized that Lindsay dropped all of Cora's angst about her father and shit from the first book. I guess the critics really got to her laughing at the daddy issues she swore wasn't in there. She hasn't brought it up once in this book. HAHAHA! We win, bitch!

Anyway, something's exploding in space or something.
She looked in the direction he was looking, and within seconds, the sky opened. It was small at first, blinking like the blip of a shooting star, but it expanded, a bright light like a hole was being ripped in reality itself. It looked like how she imagined a nuclear blast might appear if it went off in the sky, the night still black but the light brightening the landscape like an outdoor floodlight. But she could sense it was much farther away and much larger than a nuclear blast. It was already the size of Jupiter. A thousand Jupiters. It was already the size of the sun, a hundred suns. Her simple, human self wanted to ask, “What is that?” But through the wall she could feel the answer: I don’t know.
Cora could sense it was a supernova. I'm not kidding. Look.
she found she could sense what was happening. This was a burst of energy, far away but inescapable, faster than sound, faster than thought. This was a supernova,..
Cue that Oasis song.

The narrative tells us it could take out the entire solar system. Not Cora's narrative mind you. We're being told what it is by the author. Usually, in fiction there's a character to give exposition, but somehow, Cora just knows this. This is lazy writing, by a dumb person. Creative writing 101: You don't write fiction like this.
Then, as quickly as the tear in reality had opened, it receded into itself, the energy pulling back into its concentrated mass, an inverse big bang. The light dimmed, and then it disappeared.
She clung to him tighter. “Are we going to die?”
The fuck if & knows. Cora recognizes supernovas on sight, but & don't know shit. Oh, he does know it's 44 light minutes away though. Fuck you, Lindsay.

The energy got reabsorbed or some shit. Let me guess, the collective thingie of aliens sent a ship or something through a wormhole or something. It'll be here soon to threaten our world? Place your bets.

Their minds return to normal. Ugh.
“We have to go back to the security complex,” she said, looking up at him urgently. “We have to tell them what we know.”
Know what? The info the author is feeding you? Or that gigantic explosion in space? I think they may have noticed, dear.
Anyway they Stewie Griffin transport back to &'s lair.
The next thing she was aware of was a banging sound, one that sounded like a human fist on a door.
It was someone banging on the door.

Like that? See, it was like something, then it was that something. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Military people rush in. Cora is outraged; they breached the agreement of no military people in the lair. Fuck you, and the space raptor you rode in on, Cora.

Cora: Bright light in sky, did you know?
Officer: Yes.
Cora: How? Do you have eyes too?
Officer: No drones.

What?

Officer: What was it?
Cora: Dunno.

Well, thank you for the big help, dumbass bitch.

Big meeting, but Cora says & will stay in here. Not fair you putting him in a room with the meanie aliens. Officer pouts, but ok.

& senses a presence he hasn't felt since....
She put her hands on the bottom of his head, where his “jaw” would be if he had one, bent him down to face her. “You mean . . . Your last living symphyle?”
“ He did this. He is alive. He was gone. I felt it as the blast hit. He was the blast.”
Mmk. Then this non-sense.
“Ampersand,” she said, trying to shake him and failing. It was like trying to shake a boulder. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“ Sending electromagnetic waves through space folds is a technology we have had for generations, but sending matter through the fold, that has never been accomplished in volumes greater than a few atoms. To send matter that large through a space fold, theoretically possible but far too dangerous to ever test. It would require far too much energy. He ceased to exist. I felt it, I felt him die. You felt it, too. ”
“I did,” she said, now understanding her experience that was not quite a nightmare but something like it. His last still-living symphyle had ceased to exist when he folded space. It had felt like his death to Ampersand, and that feeling had been so intense, it crashed through his walls and went straight into her. But then they reappeared on the other side of the fold, once again made whole. Once again still alive.

So Cora goes to the big meeting, where they're all watching CNN. No, seriously. Greatest military in history watching a hack cable news network for intel.

So, CIA Sol comes in and asks what's up?
“Effectively, we witnessed a miniature supernova. But, and I’m guessing human scientists can confirm this, the energy was pulled back into the . . . let’s say ‘hole’ from whence it came.”
HOW DOES CORA KNOW THIS??!! The author told us in narrative!!! No one told her. Unless she absorbed it through &, but he didn't know what the fuck it was at first! And the when he did, he said it was a space-fold! Go, read what he said in the quoted text just above! Who told Cora that was a mini-supernova?!
“Are we in any danger?” asked Sol.
“From the energy burst, no, I don’t think so. We would have if it had kept expanding, but something pulled it back. Some incredibly intense force, like a black hole.”
WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A BLACK HOLE??!! First time a black hole has been mentioned! HOW DOES CORA KNOW THIS?!! Is Cora Data from Star Trek now? Was there a hidden repository of science and physics in her brain that's coming alive now? MY GOD!!! THIS BOOK, MAN! Remember, Cora is a first year college drop out. One who wrote off her car, because the fan belt broke back in the first book.


Anyway, she says, & says a person or persons probably came through.

“All he knows is that it’s almost definitely amygdaline, not physeterine.”
“Physeterine,” said Porter as if he were pronouncing a foreign word.
“The name we’ve given to their sister species,” said Dr. Sev. “ Hypothetical sister species....
Oh do shut the fuck up. I guess since the first book fulfilled some self-insert fantasy, Lindsay is playing out her Dr. Who-woman-knows-everything fantasy.

Oh, the press is calling this event “Enola Gay.” I'm really tired of this inane, boring book.

Cora goes to file some paperwork, in triplicate. I'm not kidding.
& fears the alien dudes are hostile because they won't text emojis back to his inquiries or whatever. Fearing a time like this, a section of his leg opens up like RoboCop and he pulls out a device the size of a soda can the shape of a kidney bean. & designed it for human hands. It's an anti-similars EMP pulse thingie. But be careful with it, it will affect & too.

He whips out the Stewie Griffin transporter. And Cora whimpers like a woman from a 1950's Western. Very unfeminist-like, Lindsay.
“No, please,” she said, grabbing him gently by the forearm, at which he gave her a look so harsh she let go and stumbled back. He hadn’t looked at her like that since they had first met. “Ampersand, please, we should leave.”
He fucks off without her.
She watched the space where he had been, holding the pulse emitter like it was her bouquet after she had been dumped at the altar.
And once again, she was alone.
End of Chapter.
End of Part 1.

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Fri Nov 12, 2021 6:36 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl. Lindsay Ellis
Part 2: Love Has a Nasty Habit of Disappearing Overnight (again her title not mine)
Chapter 7: No Means No

DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch


Part Two!

There are Four Parts and 57 chapters. Mother fucker.
Apparently, Lindsay is going to load the beginning of these parts with lots of fluff. Here's the list:

Februaary 1, 2008

One page, one sentence.
ARTICLE 6 Everyone has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law.
The Broken Seal
ETI Asylum Seekers Raise an
Existential Legal Question
How do we define human rights for nonhumans?
By Nils Ortega
JANUARY 29, 2008
So, here's the 611 word fake article if you want to read it. I didn't.
SpoilerShow
Hello, Friends and Strangers,
The Cheney administration has pushed back their official information release yet again. We at The Broken Seal have come into possession of documents that may contain an answer as to why, and, dear reader, even I was not prepared for this.
Two individuals of a species called AG-ETI (“amygdaline”) have requested asylum. We know the two only by species code (“AG-ETI”) and their numbers (30 and 31)— AG-ETI-030 and AG-ETI-031. The reason given for this is the same as it would be for any human requesting asylum; AG-ETI-030 and AG-ETI-031 “fear persecution in their home country” and specifically fear persecution “on account of at least one of five protected grounds: race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or particular social group.”
Interesting.
Perhaps we can get into the deep, horrifying implications of this asylum request another day, but what we are dealing with in terms of more practical matters is ...
Had enough?

Chapter 7
Cora jerked herself awake, turning over and smacking her pillow in exhausted frustration.
Does every damn chapter start this way, or only most of them? Then this badly written shit.
The nightmares had resumed their regular schedule; sometimes they were the paralysis kind, but lately, they had been more violent. Tonight’s was the rare combination of an “I have an exam I didn’t study for” stress dream and being hunted by an I Know What You Did Last Summer –style serial killer.
Then she saw what had awakened her, a text message from Sol:
Enola Gay landfall get in here NOW
So, a LOT of inner Cora dialog to say & ain't come back. And she was lying to everyone saying he was in his room brooding. Oh, and she dyed her hair blue, because Lindsay understands that's what the kids are doing these days.

Dr. Sev quit, because military brass said she couldn't talk to the press. Ok.
Big meeting. Where's &. Cora be like, lemme go see. Fortunately, he's back after two weeks,

Then some pointless grandstanding against a man.
“Sit,” said Porter, looking at her.
“I’d rather not,” she said. “He considers me his inferior, and it’s improper for an inferior to sit if their superior is standing.” She was almost proud of how much this excuse she had pulled completely out of her ass sounded legit.
Fine. But don't start complaining when your feet start to hurt after 5 minutes, you fat fuck. What was the point of this? That was the whole of the exchange. Nothing set up. No pay off. What was the fucking point?

Big meeting to get answers from our beloved space raptor about... Enola Gay.

So, &, anything new?
No.
Would the other aliens in the room over know anything?
No.
Did & try to communicate with... Enola Gay.
Yes.
And?
Dunno. They didn't reply.
How many are there?
Don't know.
Are they refugees, ambassadors, hostile?
Don't know.

Riveting shit Lindsay.

They want to take Cora and & to Temecula to survey the site. Of the landing? Lindsay forgot to tell us.

& doesn't want to.
It ain't a request.
Then a thing happens.
Cora’s jaw dropped. Porter was not looking at her but at Ampersand as if to say he had given an order. Why was this order not being followed?
Then the air changed, that thick static that accompanied telekinetic activity, compressing her chest and making it slightly difficult to breathe. Everyone in the room felt it, their wet, beady eyes widening in confusion and a hint of fear. Brigadier General Porter slammed his palms on the desk, and he took in a breath to bark some order, but before he could, every window in the room shattered.
The glass blows outward, and is fiery. Then it does a reverse thing back into it's panes, though the cracks can still be seen.

& does not consent.

You know, Lindsay's triumph of standing up to the evi patriarchy sure does rely on that patriarchy to do very little. Like tranquillizing the fucker, binding his ass, then drag him wherever they want. And if he refuses to speak, waterboard that mother fucker.

& just goes invisible. See? That would have been a good time to tranq him.
But all the brass are written like 1 dimensional characters from a 60's scifi monster movie.
Brigadier General Porter shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the table again as he glared at her. She glared right back. To think, there would have been a time not so long ago when she would have crumbled before a man like that.
FEMINISM!!! All right!

The CIA guy says Cora is going to have to go in &'s place.

End of chapter.
Image

User avatar
pibbs
Posts: 7518
Joined: Tue May 30, 2017 11:21 pm

Truth of the Divine by Best-Selling Hotdog girl

Post by pibbs » Sat Nov 13, 2021 7:06 am

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl. Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 8: Area Fifty Dumb
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Hey, we've got pictures now!

Image

Cora and her wranglers are stuck in traffic on the way to the crash site, because now that everyone knows UFOs and aliens exist, everyone and their grandma are driving out to the landing site.
They’d been stopped dead at this spot close to their exit for a couple of minutes, a billboard on the side of the road that read “Prayer Will Save Us” looming over them. Cora wondered if the billboard was pre-or post-ET-gate.
*Lindsay tips her fedora.

Sol notices Cora seems different lately. And? They kinda rehash everything that hasn't really happened so far. Cora admits she doesn't really know what going on with & these days.

Then a wonderful discussion about PTSD.
“You can’t cure PTSD.”
Cora almost clapped back, “How the fuck would you know?”
Lindsay, how the fuck would you know? All you and your ilk know is the self-diagnosed, pity seeking fake PTSD you get when someone commits a percieved micro-aggression towards you. Grow the fuck up.
“PTSD is like cancer. You don’t cure it. Maybe it goes into remission, but you don’t cure it.”
It was something she hadn’t considered, a thought too ugly to touch, the idea that this might not be temporary. She’d taken for granted that the night terrors were a phase, that Ampersand had such a good grip on human physiology that he would figure it out, eventually find the right brain-button to push and push it, and the symptoms would go away. She had never considered that she might be broken for the rest of her life.
Cora whines and pities herself to Sol, who I think is ready to steer the car into an oncoming semi truck.
“It’s just . . .” She was so tired of keeping her defenses up around him. If he was going to use this vulnerability to savage her later, let him. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any support, I don’t have any money, I don’t have any health insurance. And I don’t know what sets me off, it just . . . happens.”
I wonder if Lindsay spent 5 minutes on WebMD or something.

Or the twitter guide to being a modern woman.
“Triggers are never as simple as movies tell you they are. It’s not as simple as, ‘Oh, I got raped at a Starbucks now I go into a panic-rage every time I see the Starbucks logo.’ And when you have all these comorbid conditions, sometimes triggers will be obvious, sometimes they won’t be. A lot of the time, you won’t even know what causes it.”

“Comorbid conditions.” Lindsay is so smart, guise.

Then the worst thing ever to happen to Cora, Sol parks the car and says it would be quicker to walk. OH NO! Trigger. Panic attack! PTSD! Well, not really that last part, but if Lindsay were writing realistic characters, Cora would be whining and bitching about this.

They make it through the police barricade, where thousands of people had gathered on a big grassy field. Maybe to Naruto charge the thing?
Some of them were already starting to get into arguments with the police.
“This is a fucking powder keg,” muttered Sol under his breath.
Indeed it was. Cora had expected people more in the vein of the type who would welcome the alien enlightenment that was being held back by capitalism. But that wasn’t the case at all. Sol pointed to one guy in the crowd, whispering to one of the deputies on top of the van with him, and the deputy hopped off the van and disappeared into the crowd.
“What is it?”
“That guy is packing,” said Sol, nodding into the crowd. “I am concerned.”
Cora looked down at the guy who was “packing,” and he was pretty easy to spot—a white guy...
Sigh. I'm going to pause for a minute.

Continue.
...a white guy in a denim biker jacket with a big beard, he looked like a half-assed attempt at a biker, a Heck’s Lesser Divine Entity, and he had a “Don’t Tread On Me” flag sprouting up from his vest...

Pausing again. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Then some dude in alll black, and black hoodie death stares Cora.
“Where are our leaders?”
Cora looked away from Murderguy toward the source of the voice being carried through a loudspeaker. A man had hopped up on top of a Winnebago some three hundred feet from where she stood, using it as a makeshift stage. The crowd immediately responded to him, turning their aimless churlishness into cheering.
“Where are our leaders?” said the man again, now surer of his footing. The crowd roared their response, agreement, indignation. “And where is the truth?”
It was Jano Miranda.
The guy writing the dumb, boring articles before every section? I... I guess. I don't care. Anyway, he Aragorns a speech to the crowd. A dumb one. Theys been lying to us!
“The biggest scandal in American history,” cried Miranda into the loudspeaker, “and they stay silent!”
Then some dumb, dumb writing.
God, but he was charming. Not in a big, boisterous way but in a vulnerable way, like he could make you feel that he cared about how your day went just by looking at you. He genuinely appeared to be afraid for the people in this crowd, radiated solidarity with them, the “us” united against a nameless, formless “them.”
“God-fucking-damn it, I hate it when they’re good.”
“Who do you mean by ‘they’?” asked Cora.
“These fucking polemicists. You try working in anti-terrorism for a few years. This guy terrifies me both less and more. Less in that I think he’s 900 percent less likely to strap bombs onto his chest and walk into a mall. More in that he’s way smarter and more charismatic than the usual grifter.”
“I don’t even know that I’d call him a grifter,” said Cora, transfixed. “I think he means it.”
He and the crowd start chanting, “Truth is a huuman right!”
She looked back down in the crowd, and there was that guy in the black denim jacket looking her way again. “There’s a guy over there doing a bad job pretending he doesn’t recognize me.”
Sol looked down, scanning the crowd, and upon seeing who she was talking about, his expression turned to alarm. “Shit.”
“Shit?”
“Steer clear of that guy.”
“Should I be afraid?”
“Probably,” he said, speaking through clenched teeth. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”
I'm only surprised he's not wearing a MAGA hat, Lindsay.

And THEN...
Then, it was as if Earth’s atmosphere split like a glacier breaking in two, and there was a crack like a thunder burst from less than a mile away, but the sky was blue and crisp and clear. The crowd fell silent for only a few seconds before the second noise came, this one deep and sustained, coming not from the direction of the crash site but seemingly from farther away in the mountains, like a giant a mile tall had blown on a tuba. The sound was so loud and deep in frequency it was as though the air itself had turned to molasses. Nearly everyone threw their hands to their ears.
The a shock wave through the ground. Mass panic overtakes the crowd, and they run away, trampling one another like a Travis Scott concert. (I got topical jokes!)

The surge separates Cora and Sol.

Then & sends her a mind message, “I am sending for you.”
As she runs around, she's confronted by “Murderguy,”
“Ampersand, I am in danger,” she said, turning from him and making a beeline for the nearest yard. It was fenced, but at least it wasn’t by a twenty-foot wall. “I need extraction.”
“ You must stay still.”
So, she does the opposite. Then goes still. A transporter disc appears below her feet. How? Fuck you, that's how. Cora evaporates just as Murderguy comes around the corner.

End of chapter.

To Lindsay and her mob, book discussion is in the NCunt: Black Cocks Only thread, where you may REEEEE without censorship. A freedom of differing opinion that we grant and that you wouldn't.
Image

Locked

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Ahrefs [Bot] and 43 guests