Brief Psychological Profile on Kingsley MontiveloA segment from the official transcript of Samantha Phillips’ recorded notes regarding Kingsley MontiveloBrief Psychological Profile on Kingsley Montivelo by Delta-13
Kingsley Montivelo --- Atma 9th, 1888
Interviewer: Samantha Phillips
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Samantha Phillips: The subject exhibits the characteristics of extreme narcissism and suffers from combat shock. Simultaneously has a self-aggrandized sense of worth and extreme self-loathing. There is also a hint of sexual frustration or inadequacy, note: find past romantic and sexual relationships or encounters-if any.
Subject is very defensive in interviews and likes to control the conversation. Often plays the part of the victim and casts blame on everyone but himself. He craves the spotlight and has a pathological need to be the leader, which most likely stems from his extreme paranoia. He is terrified of being abandoned or left alone, which is why he continues to see Alex. He needs an audience which may be why he jumped at the chance to write his memoirs. Have seen him in court multiple time
Triton GamesTriton GamesTriton Games by Delta-13
Drums echoed through the beehive that was the city of Urbs. Trumpets blasted as the Koren athletes emerged from their lockers and proudly marched around the track, moving with perfect military precision. The Korens in the stands, some having traveled from the cities on the Ignis border, stood and cheered on their favorite athletes. Others chanted the Koren national war song.
“Unfurl the standards, beat the drums. Off to war, the Korens march! Beat the foe! Run him through! Turn him into nothing but guts and blood. Off to war, the Korens march!”
“Ah, how I love that song,” laughed Cassius.
“I’m not sure everyone feels the same way,” smirked Hugo, eying the Shadow’s box where sat the pathetic and livid Shadow king, David Farin.
“He’s lucky if he makes it out of here alive,” snarled Cassius.
“Well that would be one way of starting a war,” sighed Hugo.
“It’d give us the chance to finish t
Marcus' Crush“Marcus!”Marcus' Crush by Delta-13
He omphed as large and heavy Gabriel crashed into him and they rolled into the base of the arena. His head ringing, Marcus vainly tried to roll a moaning Gabriel off of him, but failed miserably.
“Aye, Marcus,” frowned Hugo, effortlessly flipping another apprentice, Vincent, over, “You need to be alert at all times.”
“Yes, master,” he grumbled, poking his fellow apprentice in the side.
“Ow,” groaned Gabriel.
“I can’t breathe,” Marcus gasped.
“Oh, sorry,” said Gabriel slowly climbing off of the small Koren.
Gabriel was fatter than a normal apprentice and struggled just as much as Marcus did, but once he planted his feet, there was no moving him. He was bit like a Thresh now that Marcus thought about it. Gabriel’s long blonde hair was shaggier than Hugo liked, but seemed to have a mind of its own as it grew within seconds of being cut. The spikes on the bridge of his snout were large
The VirgilThe VirgilThe Virgil by Delta-13
Marcus limped out of the wrestling ring, towards his leather satchel of water. He was pretty sure he had tweaked his hip during that last move, but at least he had won. Marcus was an undersized Koren who made up for his size with his agility and speed. Like all Korens, he resembled a hairy, miniature dragon. He had a round snout with small horns haphazardly scattered down the bridge. His father assured him that they would align themselves with time. His bright and soft blue eyes kept a caution glance on his fellow trainees. He was wearing a tan tunic that was too big for him and often made him the laughing stock of the Virgil.
“Up in five,” snapped Portia, one of their trainers.
Marcus always felt like an idiot around her-not only because she was a beautiful and gifted warrior-but because she was the famous Hugo’s wife. Hugo was the idol of every Koren in the Virgil, if not in all of Urbs and to be trained by his wife…Marcus quickly looked down as she
Hi, I’m Sam, also known as Ham, and I’m a recent escapee from the Virginia Military Institute (VMI). |
I'm an extreme history nerd (seriously four bookcases full of history books) and a comic book geek. I am very spacey and it can take me a while to reply, but it's not because I hate you it's because I'm lazy.
Currently, my sister, , and I are working on six major projects:
1. The first project is my fifteen book science fantasy series: Nothing but Glory:
“It’s never good versus evil, it’s nothing more than a game of god damn chicken. Who is willing to sacrifice more? That’s all it’s ever been and the roles are assigned after the war is over. The good men are the ones who win the war"-Kingsley Montivelo.
The Second Shadow War is over, but veteran Alexander Phillips cannot let it go. After interviewing the surviving participants, Alexander publishes a fifteen book series that follows thirteen leaders as they rise to power, how they handle a world war that is catastrophic in scope, and watches as some are overtaken by their sins-both intentional and unintentional-and some rise to lead a stronger, but dying world into an uncertain future. The first nine book are ‘regional’ books (they focus on each region of my world) while the next six are the about the war itself. Think of my series like the Avengers movies. The first nine books establish my characters (like Marvel phase one) and the next six books are one huge Avengers movie.
2. My second project is the first book for the Nothing but Glory series: For the Next Killer Who Dies: Selected memories of a Revolutionary::
Killers never forget, they never forgive, and they never apologize, but sometimes they explain.
Killers never forget, they never forgive, and they never apologize, but sometimes they explain.
The Second Shadow War is over, but veteran Alexander Phillips is not ready to let the war go. Kingsley Montivelo, one of the grand architects of the war, is willing to speak to Alex if he agrees to publish his memoir about his time as the leader of the terrorist organization, the Killer Liberation Army (KLA). Alexander agrees and soon discovers that truth if relative and that winning the peace is just as important as winning the war.
3, My third project is the second book in my Nothing but Glory series: Strangers in a Familiar Land
It focuses on the rising king of the desert, Sargon, and a leader of a multi-organizational terrorist group, Karif. Both men struggle to shape the desert in the midst of familial strife and a series of colonial wars and only time will keep who will merge as superior ruler of the Ignis Desert.
4. My fourth project is Heroes: a dystopian novel about Singularity gone wrong.
“We offer you Peace, Security, and Prosperity. We ask for your Privacy and your Obedience.”-Turing
Heroes is a world where there is no death, no war, no disease, and no crime. It is a perfect world as long as everyone follows the rules and does not mind being observed by the four guardians at all times. There is a small movement known as the Time Keepers who are desperately fighting the Guardians and bringing freedom back to the world.
5. My fifth project is Stairway to Heaven is about Greg an individual with a very special talent-he can morph into an anteater. His parents were superheroes during the golden age of superheroes and, unfortunately, the apple has fallen far from the tree.
After years of boozing and whoring, Greg hits a depressing low and starts to think about his life choices. While doing so, he is pulled over for reckless driving and must perform 300 hours of community service. His solution? He opens a boarding school for other gifted people and quickly regrets it.
6. My sixth project is The Undesirables In the 1850s the Ancient Ones were nearly brought to Earth, rendering the Heavens and Hell apart and merging those worlds with Earth.
Now the angels live on Earth, running a complicated holy Interpol while Satan and his Devils slowly take over the world. Archangel Michael, desperate to win the war, enlists the aide of ten damned and irreverent, but gifted individuals. They are the Undesirabes and they will go into the blackest parts of the world-places that the angels dare not go-in order to protect the world.
My pinterest: www.pinterest.com/pepperdaphoe…
My Tumblr: pepperthephoenix.tumblr.com/
My story Tumblr: withnothingbutglory.tumblr.com…
Wargods - The Prophecy- Hello? Anybody there?
Ain was alone, in a dark place. He could see nothing at all. But he felt that wherever he was, he is safe. A brief moment later, light came out of nowhere, and now Ain could at least see himself. But he was different. His ordinary clothes were nowhere, he wore something different. A leather-like material beautifully made, the clothes fit him perfectly. Boots, leather trousers, leather chest armor, sleeveless, and a pair of gloves too. All were emitting a faint white aura around them, like the armor's color. Whatever it was made out of, he could feel magic flowing through it, into his body and soul. Or was it the other way around? Was he the one who enchanted his clothes? He didn't know. But as he was about ask what he was wearing, his surroundings changed. He was somewhere unknown, yet familiar. The buildings were shaped and looked like nothing Ain has ever seen before. It was like he was watching a science fiction movie up close. Tall buildings, some were even
Old BeliefsHe looks about his home in the Underworld. Anubis exhales then smiles slightly as he catches a photograph of him, and some of the other Underworld gods at one of the world gods meetings. Hades looked so unamused about something. He was sure it was something to do with how power was getting settled around the gods.
Anubis smirks a bit as he picked up his coat. He was dressed in the modern way. Jeans, shirt, boots and his favorite leather jacket. He could not change his face; he would always look like a jackal. He looks about himself again before taking himself to where he was thinking of going.
He was going to the city to mingle amoung the people. They had no clue. They did not know that no matter what god they followed that Anubis still got to make sure their heart was weighed and he took the good souls to the heavens.
Anubis walks the streets of the modern city of Cairo. People walk though him. He knows they cannot see him. He searches for those that still believe. Not that thes
a time to rise, and a time to fallI have never asked her what it is that she misses so much. Whatever it is, it turns her eyes blue mid-winter and chases the heat from her cheeks. The truth is, I never thought it was my place to ask: after all, I'm nothing but a stranger in her quiet heart. And even now, years after we first met, I do not ask her.
She stretches one morning, all smooth edges and warm spaces. She looks at me as she always does before she tumbles out of bed, and her eyes are blue. Again. The weeks melt away and I am staring at six years worth of winters, all rolled into one. It chills me and my teeth chatter. She doesn't say anything but I know that she has caught me looking, has inhaled my shiver and tasted old winters in it instead of fresh laid snow. There is no fooling her, there has never been any chance of that: she always knows.
I give up all hope of further sleep and step out of bed and onto rich, plush carpet. It is a violent hue, bu
6 things I know about my grandfatheri.
My grandfather was one of nine children, all identical in black and white photographs. Each had a crop of dark hair, slightly crooked smiles and as a child I thought they had black eyes too. The shades, the pigments, were lost in translation and even still I picture him with ink-drop irises, faded sepia skin.
He, like his brothers, joined the navy. They left behind their youngest brother Ronnie on the shore waving in time with his murmured, off-beat heart, stretching the hole in his chest 8,000 miles wide. The Atlantic embraced them, called each in different directions as the waves rolled on endlessly. Their boats drifted from safe bays and my grandfather fixed his sight starboard, back towards London as the masts of his brothers’ vessels faded over the horizon.
My grandfather was in charge of saving anyone who fell overboard, and was for a time a deep sea diver. But he couldn’t swim, was scared of the bottomless depths aching beneath the deck. He lied on his forms,
Holly Jolly Hallow's EveHave a holly jolly hallow's eve.
It's the best time of the year,
I don't know, if they'll be crows
But have a cup of fear.
Oh-Ho, the skele-toes
Hung up where you can see.
Somebody waits for you,
Bite her once for me.
BFD II, RUMINATION #2: A THREAT TO CONTINUITYThe five strangers were being led through the camp discreetly and were brought to a tent and held as prisoners to await the hangman’s
noose. The way it looked inside was the opposite of a prison. It was just the traditional place to rest for the weary solder. A naked
chicken sat perched on the small writing desk on the left. “This is my tent,” Mercury explained “Normally, I’d take you to the man in
charge but he isn’t around. A new guy, Horton Brumsfeld, arrived the same time you showed up,” he pointed at the Emissary and
Martin, “But there’s something about him I don’t trust. I don’t know who the rest of you are but if you know these two than
obviously you don’t belong here, and I bet you know something about the new guy,” all this he said as the gun barreled changed in the
direction of whom it was pointing to. Making everyone real nervous and unfocused to what he had to say. “Very good, you
What is Intelligence?How do you measure intelligence? Is it solving a mathematical problem, or reciting a sonnet? In the early 1900’s there was a machine
that could draw three pictures and write two poems. It did what it was programmed to do, but did it understand what it created or was
it going through the motions? The Turing test is too vague when it claims to measure intelligence. The definition does not pertain
purely to smarts; it’s a matter of feeling the music it listens to and relating to it. The robot industry will not lead to the apocalypse or to
a new dominant race. There is only a market for dumb robots, not smart ones. Do not be disillusioned; any and all advances in
technology today are made for the aim of gimmicks and publicity stunts. The mechanized butlers in Sleeper (1973) are more
accurate to what is being made now than the sociopathic replicants in Blade Runner (1982). No one wants a machine that
can think, that would be a threat to national security. No one ex
I had a problem.I once had problems, but they've gone.
It’s been so long, since I had to solve one.
I sleep on a bed stuffed full of my riches.
I don't ever clean or do the dishes,
No one is ever mean and my nose never itches.
With all it's perfection, something is wrong,
'Cause its been so long, since I had a problem
Its been so long since I tried to solve one.
I make more than congressman, senators and presidents.
Somewhere there must be some form of penitence.
Is this the price for a life full of decadence?
Historical Fantasy: The Future Reflects the PastThe best way to write about the world you're
in is to write about what happens after it.
Water's Not for Me(n)The water's not for me, the all transparent sea.
the horrors sound asleep in the all confounding deep.
Morally oblique, the monsters bare their teeth.
We Dig the GravesWhen enough people care,
The bosses make things fair.
When enough people fear,
They make the problem disappear.
But what people don’t realize,
That it doesn’t get them anywhere.
Because everything slides back into disarray,
The people can't be that involved everyday.
So they get lazy and act like they don't have a say,
But it is we who decide the world should be this way.
They allow the crooks and the corrupted to go out,
and play with the lives that one cares to save.
The bosses are the caretakers,
while we are those who dig the graves.