"A Club in England"

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Why do rich people
care about making money?
The poor, certainly, need to care about doing so. When one's resources are only enough to scrape by, money is all that matters. It is important for the middle class as well. Looking after their spouses, their children; there is a culture of dependence that weights them down. The rich want to make money because they can always become richer. There is always another echelon of wealth to rise above, some degree of opulence that is beyond their grasp. They drive to even further heights, seeking to slake their thirst for coin. They care about making money simply because they can. To do so, the rich exploit people far below them on the social ladder, the poorest of the poor. To the oil magnate, to the harsh dictator, to the kings and queens and lords and ladies, the common people are specks of dirt. To Marshall, Carter and Dark, the rich are unto ants. People, regardless of social standing, are all the same. The poor may spend their savings on worthless yet treasured trinkets, sold by the middle class. The salaryman may splurge on a pretty ring for his wife, the profits of which go into the pockets of a wealthy mining boss. In the same way, the gullible rich will burn millions of dollars on a single impossible object. Everyone is willing to waste their precious, precious money on something out of the ordinary. But value is artificial. The poor spend their pennies on mass-produced china, convinced that it has some worth to it. The rich convince the middle class that diamonds are rare and valuable, despite the stones being retrieved in Africa by the billion. Marshall, Carter and Dark convince the rich that the impossible is invaluable, while any anartist on a street can twist a die into a hypercube. The methodology of such a scheme is quite simple, but the critical step is to gain a market monopoly. If you are the only seller in town, you can set the price at any level you desire, so long as you can drum up demand. In this regard, Marshall, Carter and Dark have the advantage: for hundreds of years, they were the only peddlers of anomalous wares in the world. They had the time to gain the capital, and with that capital they can now outprice even the most competitive upstart. While organisations such as the Foundation, the GOC, and the Horizon Initiative resent the company's existence, they are unable to deal with such an unassailable economic powerhouse. With a glance, Marshall, Carter and Dark could level a city, bankrupt a country; with a single call, they could plunge the planet into a thermonuclear war. Yet, to the eternal relief of all, they are the least volatile players in the anomalous field. After all, if the veil of secrecy were to break, their trinkets would become worthless; their business would crumple and dissolve. While this may cause some to think of Marshall, Carter and Dark as a massive, faceless corporation, their workforce numbers at most in the order of one hundred personnel. Their operations are directed and streamlined, maximising efficiency and minimising cost. Further manpower, if necessary, is outsourced from other organisations. Those in the highest positions of power are perhaps the most mysterious. Wild stories abound on the subject: depending on the source, they may be ghosts or demons, old men sending messages from beyond the grave, faceless monsters from another world, or even shapeshifting lizardmen. A major part of their operations is establishing supply lines between various anomalous groups. Marshall, Carter and Dark purchase directly from groups such as Doctor Wondertainment and The Factory, reselling their goods at exorbitant markups. Prometheus Labs gladly supply the group with their latest research, in exchange for samples of exotic and complex anomalies. They often host anart exhibitions, exerting notable control of the artistic marketplace. Similarly, they host various social functions for the most rich and powerful people in the world. With hooks throughout Europe, America, Russia and China, there is never trouble finding a market for a given item. They are, of course, willing to sell to any buyer; groups such as the Chaos Insurgency are some of their most valuable clients. Perhaps the organisations most opposed to Marshall, Carter and Dark are the Manna Charitable Foundation and the Serpent's Hand. Manna Charitable often attempts to sabotage their operations, due to their restrictions of anomalous goods to the upper class. However, their limited range and resources makes them more irritating than threatening. The Serpent's Hand, meanwhile, are directly and openly antagonistic: caring neither for the veil of secrecy or the company's continuing practice of anomalous human trafficking, and impossible to economically intimidate, they represent the only pervasive threat to the group's operations. Without question, Marshall, Carter and Dark are one of the most important pieces on the chessboard of the anomalous world; occasionally putting other players into check, but never into mate. For Marshall, Carter and Dark, the planet is an intricate network they have secured safely beneath their thumb, where winning and losing are meaningless terms. There is no need to move pieces when you can move the board. When you can end the match at any time, there's only one reason to continue. It's all about playing the game..
Status Selling
Demand High
Value 500USD/400GBP per Capsule (50 mg) (Pure), 2500USD/2000GBP per Brick (500 g) (Impure)
Availability Established Supply Chain
Identifier Powdered Unicorn Horn
Description Items are a powdered form of unicorn horn, available in pure form as edible capsules suitable for human consumption, and in an impure form as bricks for use as an industrial pesticide. Items act as a powerful retrocausal contraceptive, eliminating all physical effects of sexual intercourse and reproduction. The impure form of the item contains several additives that render it ineffectual on mammals and other vertebrates.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Initial Report
Author Hugo Boyle Date March 03, 1930
Interest Medium Identifier Powdered Unicorn Horn
During the recent Prometheus Laboratories expedition in Lapland, a herd of wild unicorns — previously believed to be extinct — was discovered. The expedition leader, Irwin Trask, recognizing the value of these beasts, directed his party to capture the creatures and had them transported back to London for study. As repayment for our assistance in financing the expedition, Prometheus Labs has gifted us three breeding pairs, along with copies of Trask's notes regarding the animals.

Historically, the unicorn was believed to posses numerous occult and paranormal properties, resulting in its being hunted to near extinction by those attempting to use the animals for ritual or medicinal purposes. Modern testing has verified some of these beliefs; most notably, the horn of the unicorn, when ground into a powder and ingested, reverses the effects of sexual intercourse. More specifically, it reorders physical reality so that the consumer will have never had intercourse, restoring the body (but not the mind) to a virgin state — and incidentally curing venereal diseases and killing any living offspring.

It is my recommendation that we use the breeding pairs provided to us by Prometheus Labs to establish a steady supply of unicorn horn, which can then be sold as a contraceptive, curative, and assassination tool.
File Opened Under: HYTCH/8FNE6/B77KT
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Inventory Information
Owner Quantity Comments
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd. 20 tonnes Represents current stockpiled supplies of raw horn.
Prometheus Laboratories, Inc. 2 tonnes Supplier of the insecticide additives; Primary contractor for pesticide production.
ICSUT ~460 capsules Used as a thaumaturgical aid by certain members of the faculty. Reagent in certain alchemical formulas.
Global Occult Coalition ~300 capsules Believed to be for medical use.
The Foundation 5 capsules Scientific samples kept for analysis.
Customers (Individual) ~1300 capsules Used as a form of birth control and treatment for STIs.
Customers (Industrial) 5 tonnes Used as an industrial and agricultural pesticide.
Other ~500 capsules Various private individuals with diverse needs.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Status Selling
Demand High
Value 120USD/80GBP per Piece, 2000USD/1200GBP per Packet, 100000USD/60000GBP per Crate
Availability Established Supply Chain
Identifier Dr. Wondertainment's Bubblebath Bonbons!® ('Bloodbaths' internally)
Description Items are small ingestible sweets wrapped as bags of 20, for purchase from supplier in crates of 64. On consumption, items cause blood to be released from the skin as foam. Consumption of multiple pieces over a short time can cause death via blood loss.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Initial Report
Author Lucas Monaco Date April 06, 2006
Interest Medium Identifier Dr. Wondertainment's Bubblebath Bonbons!®
Monthly Dr. Wondertainment catalogue arrived at London Warehouse 4. Item description was found on Page 7. Excerpt available in External Report 1.

As stated in other reports, the potential of some kind of concession stand with small, comparatively cheap goods prior to larger auctions could result in substantial profit margins. Recommending establishment of supply line and cursory market trials.
File Opened Under: IWN45/N3OS8/4IGI5
Marshall, Carter and Darke, Ltd.

Inventory Information
Owner Quantity Comments
Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd. 48640 (38 Crates) Available from Supplier on demand.
Global Occult Coalition 27 Currently kept in storage as samples.
The Foundation 582 Stored as SCP-1079; low level security.
The Chaos Insurgency ~2000 Items distributed amongst low-level personnel for use as assassination tools.
Doctor Wondertainment N/A Supplier.
Customers ~5000 Items commonly purchased for use as practical jokes.
Others ~1000 100 crates entered into circulation prior to establishing exclusivity of supply; few untracked items believed to exist.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

External Report 01
Organisation Wondertainment Enterprises Acquired April 06, 2006
Method of Acquisition Monthly Dr. Wondertainment catalogue delivery.
Daddy telling you that your baths use too much water? Mummy refusing to let you use her fancy soaps? Wa-hey, Wonderkids! It's…

Dr. Wondertainment's Bubblebath Bonbons!®

Open up the bag, and with a single sweet, and you'll be having bubbly fun in no time! Give them to friends as a practical joke! With Dr. Wondertainment's Bubblebath Bonbons!®, you won't need to wait for bathtime any more: the bath is YOU!

Only one sweet to be taken per sitting. Not suitable for children under 3 years.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Memo 01
Sender Amos Marshall Recipient Lucas Monaco
Potential seems good for the 'sweets trolley'; something that might go down well with the wine. The sample box went down well; didn't eat any myself (I'm not exactly spry, I need all the blood I can get) but Carter seemed to enjoy the effect immensely. I leave the specifics to you.

Probably should make the warnings about 'one sweet per sitting' larger, too. Carter passed out after three of them.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Memo 02
Sender Lucas Monaco Recipient Amos Marshall
I fiddled with the price point a bit; around 100GBP apiece seems to maximise profits. A few patrons were interested in purchasing whole bags; I've given slight bulk discounts to encourage increased purchase numbers. Market data, as always, is a fiddly thing. Still not quite done, I'll tell you when it's finalised.

We're still operating on a crate by crate basis, I'll touch ground with Wondertainment and see if we can get regular shipments going at a lower cost.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Memo 03
Sender Lucas Monaco Recipient Amos Marshall
Wondertainment's willing to establish a supply line, as usual: we negotiated down from 5000GBP to 4000 per crate. At the reduced purchase rate, I'm recommending 80GBP apiece. Slight reduction in short-term profits, but in the long run, we'll get more out of word of mouth than we would at a higher price point. We should have enough stock to offer them regularly by July.

On another note, Jessie (the girl working the counter) refers to the items as 'Bloodbaths', and the name seems to have stuck among patrons. It's descriptive, and a lot more marketable than 'Bubblebath Bonbons'; I'm adding the term to documentation.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Sale Records
Records From: July, 2006 to June, 2007
Month Sold Comments
July, 2006 879  
August, 2006 387  
September, 2006 852  
October, 2006 10482 Halloween spike.
November, 2006 879  
December, 2006 5820 Christmas spike.
January, 2007 1298  
February, 2007 2034  
March, 2007 29381 April Fools' spike.
April, 2007 20482 Tail from April Fools.
May, 2007 5924 Popularity drops mid-month.
June, 2007 284  
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.

Incident Report 01
Author Lucas Monaco Date November 01, 2006
Well, we have our first casualties. The purchase spike started in early October in preparation for Halloween; a lot of people seem to have handed them out to kids, who downed them by the handful. They're clustered primarily in the US, so the chance of anyone leading it back to us is low. The Foundation - and the UIU, surprisingly - seem to have cleared up a lot of the mess for us.

The few casualties in Europe seem to have been from using the sweets as ingredients, primarily in desserts. After running some tests, the effect seems to spread between sugars: when dissolved in sugar water, the effect spreads to the entire cup, with increased efficacy proportional to the added sugar. There is a slight spread into fatty foodstuffs, but nowhere near as pronounced. We could start manufacturing duplicates from current stock, but the potential for unexpected side effects we see in a lot of Wondertainment goods is a pretty good deterrent.

No real problems with hiding it from patrons, of course, just making a note of the fact. Dead customers aren't return customers.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, Ltd.



A gracious offer.
One Unjust, an endless debt.
Payment, overdue.

The Trio rules all.
The world at large and players.
They all fear the wealth.

A vast collection.
The rarest items around.
The Foundation stores.

They make Business hard.
How can we make more money.
Doing what we love.

Unable to steal.
From Foundation’s locations.
Locked away untouched.

The Foundation plays.
Ending our control and wealth.
Taking our fair share.

All of our products.
Locked up for experiments.
No profit at all.

But we will rejoice.
A come back will happen soon.
The Foundation knows.

A detrimental effect.
Foundation quivers

A message to all.
Not to be messed around with.
A trio with power.

They will avoid them.
The only power players.
Marshall, Carter, Dark.

No one knows profits.
Like those with Monopoly.
It concerns the rest.

The most important.
Pieces of this large chess board.
They control them all.

An exclusive club.
Where all the wealthy gather.
Products to be sold.

They will fear the names
Of Marshall, Carter and Dark.
Respected by all.

Except by a few.
The power of influence.
Does not scare these few.

A challenger stands.
Unafraid of their power.
Turn back they did not.

Causing upheaval.
Inconsequential at first.
A small annoyance.

The trio didn’t care.
Their Business unimpacted.
A fruitless effort.

A coalition.
The challenger gains support.
The annoyance grows.

Now a stronger stance.
Now a more pressing matter.
A sizeable loss.

Profits start to fall.
The Challenger’s ego grows.
Vengeance to be had.

Hired out they’ll be
The Chaos Insurgency.
They'll fix the problem.

Knowing they're coming.
The challenger stands bravely.
They do not fear them.

Marshall, Carter, Dark.
Prove to all other factions.
It’s their game of chess.


And The World Felt Like Nothing, Amen

The bionic hand of Iris Dark was an impressive piece of anomalous hardware. Outwardly, it resembled a dark purple gauntlet of exquisite craftsmanship. It connected at the elbow where the original limb had been severed, embellished with calligraphic thaumic runes in gold inlays. Beryllium-bronze filaments perfectly mirrored the nerves in her original arm, which had allowed her to control it effortlessly from the moment it was installed. Neodymium magnets in the fingertips allowed her to sense magnetic fields, and a small Philosopher's Stone in the palm let her feel aetheric currents.

The mechatronics were largely based on Mekhanite designs, but a set of seven concentric runic dials on the back of the hand, which Iris could configure into spell circles at will, rendered it heretical. It also had the more modern addition of a micro-USB neural port which she most often used for a smartwatch, controlling not only it but anything it was synced with like it was a part of her nervous system.

Though the alchemical alloy was several times more durable than bone and the hand had improved grip strength, it lacked superhuman lifting power as it was still integrated into her natural musculoskeletal system. The only real downside to it was that the tactile feedback felt like she was wearing a metal glove at all times, but she considered that a more than reasonable trade-off.

But now, for the first time since she had donned it, it was off, leaving a useless stump and a loose sweater sleeve in its place. Percival Darke was examining it on his electro-thaumic workbench, peering through concentric lenses and assessing the damage it had taken at the hands of his treacherous brother. Iris merely sat by sullenly, uncharacteristically idle, her one remaining hand holding a chalice of strong wine instead of her usual cocoa.

"The good news is there's no trace of the vile Rust, but the nerve filaments have been corroded and at least six gears have been broken," Darke reported. "I can have a replacement calibrated in -"

"But can't you fix that one?" Iris interrupted, her tone demanding and desperate at the same time. A slight chortle escaped from Darke's wizened lips.

"It's not like you to be sentimental," he noted. Iris hung her head dejectedly, staring into her midnight dark wine.

"It's been part of my body for five years. I don't need to justify myself," she muttered.

"No. You don't," Darke agreed. He carefully placed the prosthetic into a vat of green liquid, judiciously setting dials and striking buttons, then finally flipping a switch that sent the liquid bubbling with an electric current. "The thaumo-electric plating will restore the nerve filaments along with any other minor wearing. We ought to do that once every five to ten years anyway. Once that's done, I'll change out the damaged gears, and it will be good as new."

Iris nodded gratefully, but said nothing. Darke raised his hooded head, slightly tilting it as he gazed at her inscrutably.

"Iris, you know I'm not mad at you for -"

"I'm mad at me!" she snapped. "I, I honestly started to believe my own bollocks. That I was an invincible, cyborg sorceress whose name was only spoken in hushed whispers. That there was no moonshot project I couldn't accomplish, no adversary I couldn't vanquish, no ruler or magnate who would not be forced to humble themselves before my greatness. I walked right into the bloody Factory, thinking I was untouchable!"

"And you walked out after unleashing a swarm of Netherous Shoggoths on them as payment for their crimes against you," Darke reminded her, rising from his workbench and gliding over to sit beside her. "Iris, I don't know if you feel this way because you're the only woman on the board or if it's something else, but you don't need to be better than everyone and everything to prove your value. None of us, not even me, expect you to be omnipotent or infallible. You can't expect it of yourself."

"I should've realized what Manny was doing. I should have been more on my guard against your brother," she insisted.

"Nominative Magic is so dangerous precisely because of its insidiousness. Anyone could fail to notice being given a name," he countered. "And as for my brother, he's lucky he's dead after what he tried to do to you."

"And I'm lucky Isabel Wondertainment was there, and I shouldn't be lucky!" Iris claimed. "I should have been able to avoid or fight the Rust on my own, and the only reason I'm not chained up in a breeding pit right now is that someone who was actually prepared to fight The Factory happened to be there. I was in a torture chamber. I could have grabbed a blade, cut my arm off the moment it was infected and impaled your brother, but the Rust was just so… excruciating. I couldn't think clearly, I just collapsed screaming. I was helpless, and I don't know how to process that. I just, I feel weak and I hate it."

"You are many things, Iris, but weak is not one of them. The mere fact you survived such an attack proves how remarkably strong you are," he assured her.

"Grandsire, please. I know you're trying to help and I do appreciate your being sympathetic, but I don't want platitudes right now," she said with a shake of her head.

"Very well. Let me ask you this then; why didn't you feel this way after you lost the arm the first time?" he asked with a quick gesture to the missing limb.

Iris paused, the question seemingly having not occurred to her yet.

"Well, in my mind – and I realize this is debatable – I lost the arm on my own terms. I chose to sacrifice it to survive. It was a simple cost/benefit analysis, not a failure. And, even though I wasn't exactly humble back then, I still didn't expect to come out unscathed against some humanoid abomination. And if nothing else, I can always blame it on Ruprecht. None of that applies now."

"Are you sure? I find that with enough effort, Ruprecht can be held responsible for nearly any calamity," Darke suggested with a droll chuckle.

"I'm sure," Iris smirked. "This was no one's fault but mine."

"But you acknowledge that you're holding yourself to unreasonably high standards?"

"No, I acknowledge that five years ago this might have been acceptable, but not now. It's been a long five years for me. I'm barely even the same person I was back then. I've learned a lot, experienced a lot, accomplished a lot. It seems like the only thing I didn't do, thought that I couldn't do, was fail. I'm going through some pretty bad ego-shock right now, and I'm not sure how to move past it."

They both sat in contemplative silence for a moment, each unsure of what needed to be done.

"Well, if nothing else, let's take advantage of this rare lull in your schedule to work on that side project of ours, shall we?" Darke suggested. Iris half-scoffed at the idea.

"Now? I'm shell-shocked, missing an arm and half-drunk," she reminded him, draining the last of her wine. "…three-quarters drunk."

"You're still the only person I would ever entrust with the task," he assured her, taking the chalice and handing it off to the Alagaddan servant that always appeared exactly when needed. Darke rose to his feet, holding out his hand to help her up. She reluctantly accepted, forcing herself to stand and follow him through the halls of his Sanctum.

He led her to the main Occult Laboratory. In one corner was a large, copper contraption for distilling Aether into ichor, divine blood useful for any number of practical applications. Darke slowly turned a creaky old faucet, releasing an ichorous rivulet to flow into a spellcasting array carved into the floor. The raw philter circled over and over again, accumulating more occult energy each time.

In the opposite corner was a small, portable server rack of bespoke electro-thaumic computers, hooked up to a high capacity Everhart resonator for power, an omnidirectional ectoluminescent projector for casting spell circles, and a rather ordinary laptop for a control interface. Darke had entrusted Iris with producing the hardware and software required to emulate the large scale and complexity of rituals needed for their project, and today seemed as good a day as any to find out if that trust was well placed.

At the center of the room, upon a stone altar and under a glass dome, laid a small sample of anomalous biomatter that had once belong to Yaldabaoth Incarnate.

Iris bent down to examine it curiously, noting the changes from when she had seen it last.

"You were able to get His Tears to work on it then?" she asked.

"Oh, the little devil put up quite a fight," Darke smirked as he lifted the glass. "It took longer than I had hoped to create a formulation of sufficient potency and amplitude, but this scrap of unholy mummia is now exactly what we need it to be. You showed remarkable bravery and cunning acquiring His Tears, you know."

"It's only bravery when it works," she lamented, flapping her empty sweater sleeve. "When it doesn't, it's just reckless."

She walked over to an enormous spool of thread spun from Morgana Silver. Pulling off a length, she plunged the thaumically conductive alloy into the Flesh on the altar.

"The Fairy Silver was your doing as well. Who else could not only survive an abduction attempt, but intimidate her abductors so terrifically that they would agree to buy her wares at ten times the going rate as contrition?"

"I was actually just going to kill all of them and walk out with the small sack of coins they'd already given me. In hindsight, that was probably an overreaction," she claimed, sitting down in front of her computer and booting it up while hooking herself into the Everhart Resonator. "I was so furious with Lolly at the time, but she probably did us an enormous favour by getting me to spare the council. She, she saved my life during the Unclean mission, and I didn't thank her. I don't think I even acknowledged it. She's been a better friend to me than I deserved."

"Yet befriend her you did, and there are few who can claim to count a Bozomorph among their allies," Darke said, pulling down the black Daevite greatsword to use in case the Flesh started growing out of control. "This was a kingly gift, and should be taken as proof that even otherworldly demi-gods regard you as someone who must be appeased."

"No. She's just nice like that," Iris claimed. "Alright, the thaumaturgical emulator is online, Erikesh program loaded. Aetheric resonance imaging and Kant Counters are active. I need you to drop the Hume Levels in here as low as you can without anything falling apart. Once the threshold for Aspect Radiation is low enough I'll start the emulator."

Darke nodded, and the doors to the lab slammed shut and were automatically sealed by a complex locking mechanism, sundering the chamber from the rest of reality. With another gesture, the Spectral Flames in the braziers suddenly intensified to a roaring, white-hot brightness to gobble up what little reality remained.

"The ontological seal is now set, and the Flames are as ravenous as I can make them," he informed her.

"Confirmed. Hume readings are dropping. Stand ready with the sword and recite Keshpeth's Objurgation of the Dread Devourer."

Darke posed himself directly in front of the altar, both hands on the hilt, head bowed, powerful words of a dead language reverberating from deep within his throat. Iris kept her gaze fixed on the Kant Counter, watching the ambient Hume levels slowly but steadily fall.

"Seven Seals, Seven Rings, Seven Thrones For The Scarlet King," she whispered along in English as she patiently tapped her finger on the laptop. When the Hume levels were finally low enough, she hit enter.

The electro-thaumic computer hummed to life, its inner workings reproducing the EVE manipulation of a hundred mages, at a hundred times the pace. Incredibly complex spell circles of smouldering blue-green Aspect Radiation rapidly appeared on the walls, constantly shifting to accommodate the now fluid laws of nature. Iris kept her eyes on her screen, turning certain values up or down and even swapping out entire modules to get the results she wanted.

The Flesh upon the altar began to quiver and pulsate, the ichor on the floor flowing upwards to feed it. Finally, when the surrounding reality was weak enough, when the right combination of spells had all been cast, the Flesh shot upwards along the thread of Morgana Silver at an explosive rate, greedily encasing it in a strange leather carapace as the spool spun round and round to feed it more. Faster and faster it spun, until the very last of the silver was spent, and the newly formed leather chain dropped limply to the floor.

The Spectral Flames suddenly died out, leaving the backlight from Iris's laptop the only illumination.

"And The World Felt Like Nothing, Amen," Iris said, adding her favourite mantra to the ancient poem.

The door creaked open, letting air, light, and reality seep back into the laboratory. Iris and Darke both rushed to inspect their creation; long looping coils of braided, crocodilian leather chains, midnight blue with a strange metallic lustre.

"How much Akiva is it giving off?" Iris asked softly.

"A lot," Darke smiled. "Stand back."

He clapped twice, and his servant immediately appeared and picked up a length of chain, holding it tautly between his hands. With one swift motion, Darke brought the Daevite greatsword down upon the chain. Forged in the Darkness Below, imbued with the primal chaos magic of the Scarlet King to destroy anything its infinitesimally thin edge touched, the sword did not so much as nick the leather chain.

"Brilliant!" Iris exclaimed, the spark returning to her eyes and a proud smile spreading across her face. The servant extended the chain to her, letting her hold it in her right hand. "I honestly didn't expect this to work the first time."

"Humility does not become you, Iris," Darke praised her, coiling the chain up upon the spool. "You have, through your own genius, created a device capable of emulating the work of ten thousand Erikeshan mystics, lost for nearly four thousand years. You have reproduced Apollyonic bindings, capable of restraining even the mightiest of incarnate primeval gods. Literal Titans now have cause to curse your name, and you did all of that on your worst day; not unscathed but still undefeated, bloodied yet unbowed, with only one hand, and three-quarters drunk."

Iris actually blushed, though it was more out of embarrassment of having ever doubted herself than at her Grandsire's excessive praise.

"Do you still think your reputation as an unstoppable cyborg sorceress is bollocks?" Darke asked.

"No," Iris smiled. "I think that we should have the Foundation, Coalition and Chaos Insurgency try to outbid each other for exclusive rights to this stuff."

Darke tossed back his head in a joyous cackle.

"That's my girl."

. . . . . . . .

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1 hour ago, Johnwickisblak said:

I'm poor 


57 minutes ago, Bernie Clancy said:

im small turkish child plz give bread


Stinky Poor People

insert all my fucking wls here so i can prove i have worth in life


Earlier today I was really horny, and I saw what I thought to be a blank dvd. I thought, DVDs have a tight hole, they might feel pretty good. So I put my soft pp into the hole of the DVD, and for a few seconds as I started getting harder, it felt pretty good, but then, once I was fully erect, it started being painful. My pp was stuck in the dvd, and I had to break it in half to get if out. It was then when I flipped the broken dvd over and realized that it was not a blank dvd, but a copy of the movie UP. Well guys, guess I fucked up.

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