Gianfranco Mancini > Recent Status Updates

«Sarà meglio che tu ti dia da fare con quelle pistole, Peter.» «È la parte più divertente.» rispose l’irlandese e portò avanti a sé gli enormi revolver avvolti da lampi elettrici che ronzavano come uno sciame di api.

Raldoron stood back, the better to address both men at once. He spoke a little more firmly, a little more loudly, not caring if he disturbed the melancholy of the tacticarium. 'Eyes forward to the future, brothers,' he said. 'Do not fear the return of the past. Those days are done. We will make Blood Angels of these recruits, I swear.'

La stavano fissando, dalla punta del cappello fino ai piedi. Quello che sembrava il capo si avvicinò a loro con passo elastico. «La puttana e il suo ruffiano non sanno forse che le Tre Strade sono degli Slithers Rowers?» Doyle fece un passo avanti e si toccò la tesa del berretto. «E voi non la conoscete l’educazione? Siamo solo di passaggio.»

The beast had once been this way, an example of humanity born of twisted genes. The Emperor had changed that, mending that which mankind had corrupted, remaking his young body, changing something that could barely be called a man into an exemplar of purity, at least on the outside.

«Cosa ne sai di queste sparizioni?» «È una faccenda dell’ultima settimana. Finché si trattava di qualche prostituta o marinaio nessuno se ne è accorto ma, quando hanno iniziato ad essere troppi, la notizia si è diffusa.» Wright si strinse nelle spalle. «Mai sentito niente a tal proposito.» «Dovresti ascoltare di più la città.»

‘First blood,’ Dirk shouted over the roar of the crowd. ‘So much for your damned cup.’
‘What an amazing play!’ Bob said. ‘The Reavers state their case to be crowned champions by picking up a quick score.’
‘But they seem to have bought their point with blood,’ Jim said. ‘I count one, two, three Reaver casualties on the field already, and they don’t look like they’re getting up.’

Gli occhi di tutti erano rivolti alla grande scala, adoranti e in preda a un’eccitazione bestiale. Li vedeva ammassarsi gli uni sugli altri, saltarsi sopra e sporgersi nel tentativo di scorgere colei che stava arrivando. Alcuni sbavavano senza ritegno e non si curavano che la loro vera natura si stesse liberando delle sembianze umane.

Era la sua prova generale, e tutto sarebbe filato liscio. Doveva. Se ce l’aveva fatta Rosy, che da prostituta del porto era diventata la famosa e mistica Madame Iside, allora ce l’avrebbe fatta anche lei. Istar sarebbe divenuta un’attrazione per tutti gli aristocratici che si davano arie di originalità. Non avrebbe avuto bisogno di nessuno se non di quel dannato tavolino.

Percival Wright si alzò in piedi e si gustò il turbinio di emozioni che stava prendendo vita nel suo petto. Era vivo, ne era finalmente certo, e aveva voglia di uscire da quella villa claustrofobica. Avrebbe pensato più tardi a compiacere il dio indù, assecondando le sue nuove sensazioni in tutti i perversi modi che Londra poteva offrire.

‘What, Mr. Hoffnung, is your point?’
‘Coach, we can’t go around killing off every team we face.’
‘And why not?’ Pegleg leaned back in his chair and ran a hand back through his long curls. Far more grey streaked them than had when they first met, Dunk noticed. ‘Blood Bowl is a violent game. People get killed in it all the time.’

The Hackers lost the toss and set up down at the west end of the field to kick-off the ball. The Darkside Cowboys, a team composed entirely of dark elves dressed in black and blue uniforms, jogged down to the east end to receive.

At dusk he saw a string of people file down the street, and the occupants of the inn joining from the door below. He watched as they all moved slowly and single-mindedly toward the great hall, its front a darkening plane, only illuminated by a pair of points of light rising from the center.

There was a flash of silver between the trees, and another, and another. High-pitched voices giggled, their music breaking the silence. Imps come to see if they would be given a new playmate—their teeth sharpened especially for the purpose.

‘What’s the first thing I told you about Blood Bowl?’ Slick said.
Dunk had to think back about that one. ‘When someone offers you a contract, get it in writing?’
‘Yes! But that’s not what I meant. What else?’
‘Never shower with an orc?’
Slick nodded. ‘That’s a good one too, but it’s not what I meant. What else?’
‘It’s only a foul if the ref sees it?’

This is the twisted tale of Campbell Lot. Said to be haunted by a pair of tormented souls—two lovers who never found a way to be together in life. The ghosts of a woman named Lumina Pietrowsky and a man named Jack.

Cavre pulled Dunk to the back of the tent again and raised the flap for him to scoot under. Just before he went, Dunk looked back at the creature and saw its blistering flesh burst into flames.
‘May Nurgle never find your soul,’ Dunk whispered as he left the tent. Cavre, the covered cup tucked under his arm like a football, followed close on his heels.

‘Why, Dunk Hoffnung,’ Lästiges said. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never witnessed an orgy before.’
Dunk blushed six shades of red. ‘Um, sure I–’ He shook his head. ‘Wait, I mean, no.’ He looked at the dark-haired woman out of the corner of his eye. ‘Have you?’
Lästiges giggled and flashed a hungry smile. ‘A lady never tells.’
‘So what’s holding you up?’ Slick asked.

‘What idea?’ Lästiges said from behind. The camra, which had been taking in the scene from high in the trees, floated down to focus tight on the cleric’s face.
‘Rob from the rich and give to the poor,’ Brother Puck said, fat tears rolling down his pale, dirt-crusted face.

A layer of yellow-gold dried leaves spreads itself like a blanket outside Ada and Evelyn’s front door. There are no trees anywhere on their property. Ada clenches her jaw and walks through the yard as though every leaf crunching under her foot is a snapping spine.

The bottom of Dunk’s stomach fell out. Even as Pegleg spoke, the thrower knew what his coach was going to say. As much as he dreaded it, he couldn’t turn away.
‘We’re going to Albion, my Hacker dogs!’ A mad light of greed danced in Pegleg’s eyes. ‘There, we’ll find the Far Albion Cup and bring it back to dominate the Blood Bowl League – or die trying!’

‘Them?’ Cavre said softly. ‘They’re recruiters for the Deathmasques, an all-undead team. That blonde one in the middle is their coach, Rann Ice.’
Slick scowled. ‘It used to be those bloodsuckers would at least wait until nightfall before coming around, looking for fresh kills. Damn Sun Protection Fetishes. SPFs like those have ruined the traditional night games.’

I went to draw the curtains and paused when I noticed that the rain had stopped and a perfect full moon was shining, dazzling, over the Sleators’ field. And there, at the brow of the hill, I saw a hunched figure with a coil of thick rope slung around his upper body, laboring, head down, towards the barn. He passed into the shadow of some trees and was gone.

‘The crowd is not happy about this!’ Jim said.
‘No, Jim, they’re not. I haven’t seen a referee show such a blatant disregard for the rules and for any sense of fair play since the Athelorn Avengers played the Dwarf Giants.’
‘Bob, that was only last week!’

“It can’t be done in there,” Wolfric told Croft. “We need space.” “Of course,” Croft said. “We’ve prepared a spot for you in the woods.” Cruelly, he looked at Rosamond. “I’d hate for her screams to disturb the womenfolk.” “Doesn’t look like she speaks or screams,” Wolfric said. “She screams,” Croft remarked.

Combattenti armati di fucile si muovevano spalla a spalla con irsute belve erette sulle zampe. Alle imprecazioni si mescolavano ringhi animaleschi. Il branco correva a difendere la tana. La battaglia finale era cominciata.

As he passed by Dirk, Dunk spiked the ball right into his brother’s helmet. It bounced high off Dirk’s head and landed in the stands. The fans there went wild, screaming, ‘Dunk! Dunk! Dunk!’
Dirk stood up and beckoned for his older brother to come over to him. When Dunk complied, the two butted their helmets against each other like rutting rams.
‘All right,’ Dirk said. ‘You wanna play? Let’s go!’

— Ho chiesto di Selene. Non di te — dichiarò Viktor. La voce era molto meno arida e raschiante di prima. Kraven chinò il capo, sottomesso. — In spregio ai tuoi ordini, è fuggita, mio signore. La furia balenò sul volto spigoloso di Viktor. — Con la tua incapacità stai mettendo alla prova la mia pazienza.

‘What happened with the referee this time?’ Bob’s voice said. ‘Where was the penalty call?’
‘The Creepers are old hands at this sort of mayhem, Bob,’ Lästiges said. ‘Apparently one of their cheerleaders slipped a small bomb down the referee’s pants before Goremaker made his ill-fated dash for glory. I’m being told that he will not return to the game, leaving only one referee to cover the entire match.’

Dal volto impassibile di Soren non traspariva il minimo indizio di quanto stava per accadere. Neppure quando una zampa pelosa si profilò in mezzo al vapore che avvolgeva il marciapiede. Osservò imperturbabile i quattro enormi lupi mannari, pelo nero drizzato sui corpi subumani, che si avvicinavano furtivi alla fiancata del treno e si arrampicavano sul tetto.

Kraven sentì sulle labbra il sapore del proprio sangue. Per sua fortuna, ne aveva riserve abbondanti, dopo il festino con Erika. Se non altro, aveva provocato una reazione in Selene, aveva incrinato la gelida scorza del suo distacco. "Non esattamente il tipo di preliminari che avrei preferito" pensò, lascivo "ma intanto è già qualcosa."