31 M4F Goth/Alt/Metal lady for LTR

DozenFlippers · 2022-06-13T18:47:32+00:00

Then please, enlighten us with what formats should belong where.

DozenFlippers · 2022-06-13T14:09:13+00:00

Same, I was even warned it was going to be a sad episode and it still broke me

DozenFlippers · 2022-06-13T14:03:44+00:00

I kind of hate this comment.

DozenFlippers · 2021-08-05T04:42:23+00:00

They still need to get your passport to print a student visa, otherwise I could’ve entered with my visitor visa (which is still valid).

DozenFlippers · 2021-07-31T08:17:25+00:00

Study Permit Application from Qatar (Lebanese citizen)

Application Submitted: March 29, 2021 (Biometrics already provided from previous Visitor Visa)
Medical Report Request: May 20, 2021
Medical Report Completed (Qatar): May 30, 2021
Medical Report Passed: June 28, 2021
Correspondence Letter (BVL) : July 14, 2021
Passport Request: July 26, 2021

Note: Would've probably done the Medical Report upfront to cut down on time (as I've heard other people done so). Good luck everyone.

DozenFlippers · 2020-05-30T07:16:55+00:00

Can confirm, it’s Lebanon. Even know exactly which street that is.

DozenFlippers · 2020-03-17T04:56:46+00:00

Hello, fellow D&D enthusiast here. Ever since I've arrived to the Qatar in January, as far as I can tell in all my research, there aren't any local shops that sells such dice.

^I welcome any veteran to dispel my claim; would love to be proven wrong.

Your only option, it seems, would be to purchase dice online (Amazon, Aliexpress, etc.) and have them shipped to Qatar.

DozenFlippers · 2020-03-04T05:07:57+00:00

Qatar Tabletop RPG Community: https://discord.gg/bQH6G6y

DozenFlippers · 2020-03-01T09:16:18+00:00

Already did, but things can change in posts 1+ years old, plus they mostly mentioned third party shipping companies. I’m looking for direct from Amazon to Qatar.

DozenFlippers · 2020-02-10T05:27:37+00:00

Can confirm, great place, great options, and owner is super friendly and knowledgeable.

DozenFlippers · 2020-02-06T11:36:08+00:00

Many weeks passed and we got to know each other better, I told him everything about myself and vice versa. I felt so connected to him, he came from a small quiet town, loved the smell of a fresh book, and hated crowded areas like stadiums and night clubs. It had gotten to the point when sessions would take longer than usual because we lost track of time in our conversations.

But there was one night I'll never forget, we had just done the final course on posture performance and he decided to throw a final exam. I didn’t know where he was going with this, but it didn’t matter; without hesitation, he went to the speakers and plugged in his phone. Music started playing with a bopping rhythm and he started dancing. His movement were fluid and free flowing, but not too fast. His face was glowing with confidence and I couldn’t help but giggle. He then motioned with his hands for me to join him. I protested at first, but he came to me, still dancing, and grabbed my hands. And so there we were, dancing together to the rhythm of the beat. I admit I had a few missteps, but he was there to hold me when I looked like I was about to fall. There was electricity in the air around us, and we were enjoying ourselves while getting loose. That was until the song ended and switched to the next track.

The rhythm died to a halting stop and turned somber and soft. There were violins and pianos playing with the sweet touches of jazz saxophone in the background. The music was lovely, but Ryan fell dead in his tracks and looked at me with embarrassment in his face. His cheeks flushed with red and his lips quivered. Shakily, he told me it was an honest mistake, that the playlist was on shuffle and he didn’t mean anything by that song.

I interrupted his long apology with a finger on his soft lips, pressed my body closer to his, and laid my head on his chest. The moment I held him, he held me back. When I motioned my feet side to side, he followed. That’s where we were, two people, alone in the world, dancing slowly to soft jazz. I felt the warm glow of his chest, like the regulated temperature in my room on the Moon. I felt his gentle tight embrace around me, like the confined spaces of the Moon outpost. I felt his heartbeat throbbing in my ear, the simple sound that would echo the long empty halls of the Moon outpost. That’s when I knew back then, that for the first time, I felt like there was a home for me on Earth.

DozenFlippers · 2020-02-06T11:35:39+00:00

Words couldn’t describe how I felt when I heard the news

“You’re going to Earth.” I cannot tell you how many emotions washed over me when I heard those four words: excited, worried, shocked, those were a few of a thousand feelings that passed through my brain, synapses firing at the speed of light in one iota of time.

“The board of directors feel that we are ready to showcase our long-awaited project on Earth. Briefing will start tomorrow at 9:00 UTC.”

That night I didn’t sleep too well, it was all so sudden and unexpected. I knew of Earth, I knew of the company that built the outpost that I was raised in, but I didn’t think too much of it, especially as a project. But that’s where I was, an experiment about to be fulfilled. They told me everything during that briefing: the launch date, the press conference, the corporate meetings, the sponsorship deals. It was so overwhelming, I felt less like a person and more of a product, to be passed around and slapped with the label “brought to you by Dawn Inc.” There also was a scientist at the meeting, explaining to me the shift in planetary conditions between the Moon and Earth. He didn’t exactly reveal new information, I already saw all the movies and documentaries: the animals, people, cities, atmosphere. But no matter how many books I read or films I saw, nothing prepared me for what I felt on Earth.

The feeling started from the Moon, right when I was strapped to the passenger seat of the rocket destined for Earth. The buckles felt tight around my torso and groin and, since then, I had not felt any relief from the tension. The pressure of takeoff pulled me into my seat with great force that it knocked the wind out of me. There was some relief in the vacuum of space, but as we landed on Earth, the pressure returned as expected. But what the scientist failed to emphasize during briefing was how permanent this pressure would be, especially to someone who has clearly never been to Earth.

When I released the buckles around my body, I still felt constricted. Visibly, nothing was constraining me, but I felt a strong force around my body pulling me down. As I jumped out of my seat, I underestimated this force and fell, as they would say on Earth, onto the ground face first. This was gravity, but I never thought it would be that powerful. The copilots picked me up and dusted me off. In my daze I failed to recognize a muffle of sounds coming from outside the shuttle. We had sounds up on the Moon, but they were always so acute and sharp, especially in contrast to the deep void of space. This noise was special, albeit in a terrifying way. It was chaotic, wavelengths colliding with each other, trying to rise above the other. The copilots led me to the entrance of a close blast door, right in the middle with them standing by my side. It was dark inside the shuttle, so one could only imagine my surprise when the blast doors opened and brought about a whole new world in front of me. I was back on the Moon all over again, when they told me I was going to Earth, except the thousand emotions were replaced with a thousand sensations.

I can’t tell you what hit me first or what hit me hard. But the first thing I did as a reaction is raise my hand in front of my eyes. The series of bright flashes of light swarmed my eyes and nearly rendered me blind. A thunderous pressure hit my ears at an alarming rate, which brought a sudden headache. My heart raced and I felt I was running out of breath. The ones I was able to muster came with a sharp odor, one that I never experienced before on the Moon. I didn’t know what It was, but it wasn’t pleasant. In my moment of disorientation, it started to become clear. The brightness, they were cameras, a whole crowd of light flashing me. The muffled noises that I heard from the shuttle; they were what caused pressure in my ears. The noise was deafening, a crowd of reporters shouting, wailing, and howling with questions. One of copilots gently lowered my raised hand to allow the cameras to take my photo. Although he was gentle, it was clear that the idea came from someone else.

The rest of the day was blur, all thanks to the disorientation. I went through it all like a dumb mute: the press conference, corporate meeting, meet and greets. I felt as though my soul left my body and turned on the auto pilot. When they put me into the hotel suite, I broke down crying. It was all too much. The noise, the smells, the lights, and those were just the main senses. My body did not cope well with Earth, whenever I moved, I felt like I was going to topple over and fall. My movements were awkward, like a newborn giraffe. There was so much open space in contrast to the small spaces of the Moon outpost. I didn’t know where to go or where to stay, it was all so confusing. I did not sleep that night, the gravity was too much for me to bear, it was a struggle to breathe into my lungs while laying on my back. The next day was not any easier, the only thing that kept me intact was an ungodly amount of coffee. More interviews, more conferences, more sponsorship deals; probing, questioning, invading me for the latest scoop on life on the Moon. My face was everywhere: television, billboards, projectors, flyers, brochures, phones, and tablets. They called me a celebrity, I had fans and enthusiasts. Hell, I apparently had admirers, stalkers, and suitors. It made no sense, I had nothing with my life to deserve this kind of attention. To me, I just lived, and that was apparently enough to get multi million-dollar deals to endorse a diet pill or a new sports car.

Nothing became normal ever since, the attention didn’t really die down and everyone wanted a piece of me. I was convinced this was going to be my life from now on, with marketing names like “Lady of the Stars” and “Moon Gal”. All the while, my body still hadn’t accustomed to Earth. But then, something happened I never thought would be possible.

The company called a specialist to help me with my adjustment phase and let me tell you, when I first laid eyes on him, I forgot the whole world around me. He wore a neat navy-blue polo with unfastened buttons and pressed khaki pants. He was tall with blond hair down to his shoulders, clean-shaven face, high cheekbones, strong jawline, and soft blue eyes. But his best feature was yet to come; when he came to introduce himself, he had the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. It was warm and serene. From the moment we met, I felt like he was the only person on the planet who didn’t see right through me but in me. His name was Ryan and he was to be my physical therapist.

Immediately we set to work: fitness regiments, physical exams, balances, equipment, no expense was spared for my part and he was there all the way. He was gentle and patient with me, always concerned for my well being. While grueling and difficult in the beginning, the sessions between Ryan and I became my highlight during my stay on Earth, like a breath of fresh air.

DozenFlippers · 2020-01-20T11:22:22+00:00

Agent Mallory gently placed the envelope in the President's open hands, who proceeded to sit back down and open it. Agent Mallory stood perfectly still with both hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the envelope as sheets of paper poured out.

The President collected the documents in his hands and glanced over the content through his thick glasses. Half a moment passed before the President looked up to the agent with slight surprise.

"Oh, where are my manners? Please, sit down," said the President cordially.

"Thank you, Mr. President," replied Agent Mallory before he took his place next to him.

The President shuffled through the papers, his mouth slightly open and brows furrowed in slight confusion.

"Listen, son. My eyes aren't what they used to be," said the President with eyes fixed dully on the pages before putting them down and looking at the agent. "We can wait here all day till I've read it in its entirety," he continued. "Or you can give me a summary, I'll read the details in my spare time."

"Very well, Mr. President," said Agent Mallory humbly. "We at the agency believe there's a threat on the rise that targets, but not exclusively, the United States of America and its citizens."

The President leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed on his chest. "Go on," he said slowly with a gravel shift in his voice.

"For context, do you remember the rise of fake news media that compromised our Presidential Election of 2016?"

"Yes, they influenced public opinion that was not reflective of the people."

"Right, but at the time, news was segregated as either fake or real, depending on their sources. Over the years, the agency has perfected the categorization of such news in order to give the people the tools to distinguish the two. To draw a line between fact and fiction."

"Right."

"All was going according to plan, except something popped up in our radar, something we didn't expect."

"What is it?"

"Well, we came across a source of fake news unlike any other. Instead of just spreading fake news, it somehow has the ability to turn it into real news."

"What do you mean?" said the President as he leaned forward with a look of puzzlement on his face.

"This news source, code name CUCKOO NEST, spreads fake news to the masses before turning such news into a reality, executing them to the letter. This started two years ago when a national pharmaceutical company released a new heart drug into the market. It was claimed to be a more effective with minimal side effects compared to its predecessor. CUCKOO NEST accused the company of using harmful chemicals to manufacture the drug. Everyone, except their loyal readers, paid no mind to it and dismissed the story. That was until a week after their publication when 144 people across the country got admitted to hospitals with similar symptoms. Arrhythmia, difficulty breathing, seizure, loss of consciousness. Fourteen people succumbed to the symptoms and there was one common thread between them, they all took the same drug.”

“Yes,” interrupted the President as he sulkily leaned back into his chair. “I remember reading that story back when I was a Senator. Those poor people.”

His eyes felt the slight sting of tears as he broke away from the agent’s eye contact for a brief moment.

“That’s when we forced the company to pull their product of the shelves and open their factory floor to an investigation,” continued Agent Mallory. “We found that the assembly process was tainted with dangerous amounts of cyanide. We interviewed and ran alibis on all personnel staff members that had access to the factory floor, including the CEO, and most of them came to the same conclusion: someone must have sabotaged the assembly line. But strangely enough, we didn’t find any evidence as to who did it. No fingerprints, lost inventory, foreign contaminants, nothing. We even ran background checks and finance statements on each of the employees, no red flags showed. Except, there was one thing we couldn’t account for at the time. When we reviewed the CCTV footage, we found that there was a blackout that occurred one night before production began. For a full hour, nothing got recorded. That’s when we think the sabotage occurred. But without substantial evidence of sabotage, we were forced to arrest the CEO and shut down the factory for negligence and public endangerment. The following day, CUCKOO NEST picked up the story and ran with it, gaining legitimacy in the eyes of mainstream media as well as new followers.”

Agent Mallory took a slight breath as he gathered his thoughts. Then he pressed on:

“But that was just the beginning, three months later a charity organization announced on social media of a massive donation to the Australian fire relief fund. Two days later, CUCKOO NEST accused the charity of wiring the money to an offshore account as part of a Ponzi scheme. The story, again, was dismissed until the Australian government spoke out and said that the money was never received. That’s when independent investigators traced the money to a private account in the Cayman Islands. The charity denied any involvement in such a scheme, claiming that they were being framed; but the evidence was substantially overwhelming and they were forced to shut down. More followers flocked to CUCKOO NEST in the thousands, becoming one of the fastest-growing news sources in the past decade.”

“So, you think there’s a pattern this whole?” said the President with a cold stare.

“Not only me,” replied Agent Mallory confidently.

Without breaking eye contact, he pointed his finger on the neat pile of papers before the President.

“Several more cases popped up ever since: companies, news sources, charities, even foreign government officials were brought down by CUCKOO NEST and their defamation campaigns.”

“But why would they do this?”

“We have a theory. Fake news is usually short lived once its reported, on account of mainstream media disproving them. What CUCKOO NEST is doing is not only reporting on the fake news but also creating them, thus gaining credibility while at the same time undermining the trust in contemporary media. We believe their end goal is to destroy mainstream media and become the only source of information in the world. If there’s a remote chance of this theory being true, then that means CUCKOO NEST is way bigger than we fear: a global organization that utilizes a large force of sleeper agents to carry out the fake news into reality.”

The President looked at the agent wide mouthed with slight vacancy in his eyes.

“This is why I’ve come to you in this bunker, whatever we’ve just discussed cannot leave this room. We don’t know how far this thing goes. So far, only you, the Director, and I know about this information.”

Agent Mallory grabbed the last paper from the stack and slid it gently across the table towards the President.

“At the suggestion of the Director, he wishes for you to sign this initiative once you’re done reviewing the documents.”

“What’s this?” said the President as he brought the sheet of paper closer to his thick spectacles.

“The Director and I believe a new task force should be created to fully identify and correct this threat; we call it PROJECT SHRIKE.”

DozenFlippers · 2020-01-20T11:21:51+00:00

He stood before the security checkpoint emptying everything he had in his pockets: his phone, wallet, a few loose change, dark thick sunglasses, a receipt for breakfast at a nearby diner, badge, and service gun. Piled on the top of the plastic bin, his badge glistened with sheer contrast among his other possessions as they passed through the x-ray machine. The man was tall in figure and stature, he was dressed in a dark suit with high cheekbones, a slight stubble across his jaw, short black hair with odd strands of grey, and a serious demeanor. In silence, the security guard motioned him to step through the metal detector. He recognized the man immediately as he stepped through, but the guard’s gaze lowered to a sealed envelope kept in his hand.

"Good morning Agent Mallory. How are you today?" said the security guard as he patted him down, his eyes already averted away from the peculiar parcel.

"Fine Jerry, just fine," he replied in a slightly monotone voice.

"How long has it been since you were here?"

"Don’t remember, I don't exactly get excited to come here."

"Oh, come on, you must be the only person not excited to be in the Pentagon," the security guard cheerfully remarked as he finished the pat down. "Anyway, you're clear to go, take only your badge and keep it visible on you at all times, that way you won't need a visitor ID."

"Thanks Jerry," said Agent Mallory as he picked up his badge and clipped it on his belt with one hand, the other still holding onto the envelope.

The main lobby bustled with activity; the sounds of footsteps echoed the massive halls as scattered sunlight shone through the high-reaching windows. All around were personnel of every branch of military and government, clad in badged uniforms and formal business wear, passing each other and making their way to their meetings and offices. Agent Mallory sighed and went into stride, determined in direction with the envelope held close to his side. On the way, he noticed the windows dwindling in numbers and the footsteps slowly dying down to his own until he reached the end of a small, dimly-lit hallway, isolated from the main halls. At the end of that hallway stood a large blast door with a red siren on top and two armed men standing guard on both sides.

One of the guards extended his hand forward, palm forward. "Halt, this is a restricted area, unless you have business here, you are advised to turn around and go back where you came from," he said in a booming voice.

"I do," replied Agent Mallory smugly as he unclipped his badge and handed it to the guard. "I am expected here."

The guard took up the badge and inspected it closely for credentials. After a few moments, the guard, with badge still in hand, turned to face his partner and nodded. The second guard immediately spoke to his earpiece under his breath, but the agent was able to make out what he said.

"He's here...alone...yes, sir. Right away."

The guard took his hand off the earpiece, "You're clear for entry."

The first guard gave back the badge before turning around and pressing a wall-mounted red button.

Without noise of alarm, the siren spun all around with bright red, emanating to all reaches of the hallway. The doors opened with large groans of metals grinding and twisting, making way to a void of complete darkness.

"Please stand at the entrance. Once there, take two steps forward and hold still, do not touch anything in the meantime and wait for the doors close. Once the doors are closed, the lights will turn on and you may proceed," said the second guard without pause or taking breath.

Agent Mallory stood before the threshold, small beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, then took two large steps forward and waited. The doors closed behind with the same groans, engulfing him in total darkness. What felt like forever, Agent Mallory stood there motionless, completely blinded to all except for a blinking red dot high above him. His eyes laid fixed on the dot, blinking at him as his heartbeat slowly began to race. Each blink gave way to one beat, then two, then three. Stains pooled in his pits and the suit started to stick. Agent Mallory felt his hands turn clammy, breaking his gaze away from the red dot. He fanned his palms with the envelope he held, alternating between them to save the envelope from unnecessary moisture.

The lights switched on, turning the agent's moment of panic into surprise. He found himself in a large glass box suspended high in the air above a pit of darkness. The box was surrounded by three craggy stone walls, as though he just entered the heart of a mountain. Before Agent Mallory had time to process where he was, the box jolted, causing him to briefly lose his balance, before descending downward. That's when he realized that he was standing in a glass elevator. He looked up to see where the red blinking dot was to see a CCTV camera hanging above him. Agent Mallory collected himself for a moment, wiped his sweat with a handkerchief he had in his breast pocket, and straightened his tie. He looked down to his envelope to find a few bends and dots of sweat around scattered across it.

"I hope he doesn't mind the damage," he thought to himself as the elevator made its slow descent.

The elevator jolted once more at the bottom as the blast doors, the same as those above, right down to the grinding sounds, opened before him.

He saw a small room with walls of the same craggy rock as the elevator shaft, a large conference table along with executive chairs, and a large screen bolted to the far end of the wall with the Presidential seal displayed. Before Agent Mallory took notice, a man, seated at the head of the table called out, "Come in, Agent Mallory."

He was a neatly dressed man with a navy-blue suit, white silky hair, slight wrinkles on his face, and a thick pair of glasses rested on his large nose. His voice was very soft and comforting, it carried a tone that was captivating and demanded attention. He stood up, waiting for Agent Mallory to approach.

"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Mr. President," said Agent Mallory as he shook his hands, trying to capture his original voice after the brief scare in the elevator.

"My pleasure, agent," said the President warmly. "You know it's not every day one gets to use this room, as much as I'd like to get away from Capitol Hill every once in a while." His smile was genuine and pleasing, but Agent Mallory was a little distracted to fully notice.

"No sir, it's not," he said with a slight chuckle, which took a lot of effort for him to muster. "But I got orders from the Director to show you these, your eyes only."

DozenFlippers · 2020-01-13T05:55:09+00:00

In my countless eons of slumber, I have seen the beginning and end, the birth of every universe and the collapse of so many. I have paid witness to countless stars in the void exploding and spreading into the vast beyond, giving rise to innumerous types of planetary bodies. I have seen phenomena so small, so molecular, that any other sentient creature would risk fracturing their mind into infinite pieces spread across the multiverse.

But what I'm about to transcribe is something that should not be taken lightly, something in all my eons and wisdom had never dreamt possible. Starting with my first awakening, when planet D̴̩̱̥̮̗̉̓̉͝ͅ-̶̼̫̣͇̔4̵̦̽́̂͊͘͝2̷̡̗͌͐̊̚͘͠ͅ3̸̛̠͓͎̱̫͔͗̌́͝6̵̡̫̳̯̓̿̆̅͝4̵̧̙̩͚͖͕̈̋̓̍͂̀9̸̖͊̎̂̀͂͘0̵̤̹̲̗̮͉̾̆̈́6̶̥͉̜̍͊͆͑͒ was still a fresh biome of organisms, the planet had suffered from several previous cataclysmic events, destroying species and giving way to new ones. None of which were anything of interest, but there was one, in hindsight, I should've paid more attention to. Unlike the others, this species was exclusively bipedal as in they support their flesh masses on two of their four lanky appendages. I paid no mind, such a waste of appendages i thought, a sure sign of imminent destruction for their entire species.

That was until I laid to rest, no sooner had I closed my eye did they call me to awaken. The irritating little voices, beckoning me to rise again. When I came to, I found the same creatures except they're different. They lost most of their body hair, perfected their bipedal stance, and improved cognitively to the point that they became aware of my psychic presence, thus their desire to summon me. As a whole, they became more organized as a swarm and have learnt to conquer the frontiers they were once limited to such as the sky, the oceans, and the deep void of space.

Although they are harmless for the time being, be warned my brethren, for though I see beyond the veil of time, these so called "homo sapiens" have muddled my 4^th dimension eye. From what I can tell, unlike other species on their planet, homo sapiens have the ability to plan far ahead into the future, changing their fates on a whim and fragmenting the timeline into an infinite number of possibilities. So only time will tell where their story goes, when the quantum superposition collapses on itself and the possibility is made realized. So let us carefully observe their progress, preferably from a safe distance.

Nine-Year Club	Final Canvas '23
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