[Comprehensive British and American] Old popsicle online dating rules

He knew he was dreaming.

The flames engulfed Baicheng, reflecting hellish colors on the sea.

The roar of sword clashes still lingers in every inch of the air, and the eerily familiar dirges and wails float in the night sky, and blood flows through every corner of the mouth of Sirion.He turned over and jumped off the white horse, looking at the nearly ruined elf settlement in front of him, his handsome brows were tightly wrinkled, and he was speechless for a while.

And the Noldor again committed the sin for which they were accursed.

Gripping the longbow tightly, he rushed into the burning jungle with blood on the ground, Jarod knew it very well.

Back then, Feanor, the second High King of the Noldor Elves, forged three Silmarils, which attracted evil coveted.Melkor fled to Middle-earth after stealing the Silmarillion. Feanor encouraged his people to rebel against Valinor, and swore with his seven sons to take back the Silmarillion. , regardless of demons, humans, elves, including Vera, began the exile and expedition of the Noldor elves for an unknown number of years.He even killed his relatives three times for this.

The first time, they returned to Middle Earth from Valinor. In order to snatch the white ship of the Teleri elves, they dyed Swan Harbor red with the blood of elves;

The second time, the sons of Feanor attacked Dorias, the kingdom of the Sindar elves, killed King Dio, and finally led to the destruction of Dorias;

And the third time is now.

After the destruction of Doriath, Deo's daughter Erwin escaped the massacre and fled to the mouth of Sirion with the Silmaril.The sons of Feanor asked the people at the mouth of the river to return the Silmaril, and after being refused, they carried out the most tragic massacre among the three kin massacres.Since the fall of Gondolin and the death of Glorfindel, he has been wandering around Middle-earth. When Garald heard the news and arrived, the once prosperous river mouth was already in ruins, and the scorching flames were burning endlessly. As if Mandos cursed these exiles, almost the entire night sky was burned into a frightening blood color.

Among the dead bodies, he found a survivor.

"You...these, cursed kinslayers..."

It should be a very young elf, half of his body has been burned by the flames, and there is a tear mole that is so shallow that it is almost invisible at the corner of his blood-stained eye.He neighed extremely hoarsely from his throat, staring at Jarod's black hair that symbolized his Noldor blood, with hatred and despair in his eyes, as if he had already been tormented by the shadow of death hovering over his head.

He asked Jarod to kill him, freeing an elf from a husk that had been destroyed was the last mercy, but Jarod refused to do so.He remembered that he left Valinor from Swan Harbor with Glorfindel, and had to take up bows and arrows in the melee of the red sea. Displaced, trapped in endless wars and blood, the original clear and flawless heart was riddled with holes.

It had been a nightmare he could not forget for hundreds of years.

"I will not kill another elf."

Looking at the wound that had been scorched hideously by the flames, he suddenly remembered the scene when the Eagle King brought back the icy body of Lord Jinhua from the abyss.Jarod shook his head, stood up, as if being chased by something, and quickly ran towards the place where there might be survivors: "Hold on, I'll find someone who can cure you."

"I don't need it." The man spat at him. "I will be in Mandos, forever, and curse you."

The voice behind him was like a sharp knife, urging him to keep running to avoid the deadly guilt.However, when he came back with the healer, the blood-stained open space had been completely swallowed by the fire, and everything disappeared in the raging flames, as if the beginning of fate. It made him feel the fiery hatred as soon as he closed his eyes.

Yes, hate.

Slowly opening his eyes, looking at the dark and damp ceiling of the dungeon above his head, Jarod was thinking aimlessly.

Like a poison that rots the bones and the heart, as long as one touches it, it can make people fall endlessly in the darkness.The emotion he had accepted was too strong, like a virus lurking in every inch of his blood, until now he finally tasted a trace of that unforgettable emotion, and it broke out in every corner of his body, every time It was extremely painful to drag him into those far too distant dreams.

Hydra was breaking his will, Jarod knew it well.

This trick has been performed almost every day since the day he was pushed into the iron bars to face the mutated orcs.They took the elf to the experimental table, injected all kinds of weird things into his body, and after recording the data, they drew his blood and sent it to the next door for no idea what to do.And not long after, Garald will welcome that kind of mutated half-orc in the training ground, locked in the iron fence, will not be released until the opponent dies, thrown into the dungeon, and continues to wait for the next round of the same cycle back and forth.

What Hydra was doing with his blood, Jarod thought it was easy to guess.After all, he had already seen the monster mutated by his own blood when he was in S.H.I.E.L.D., and it was not surprising that he would be caught by this group of lunatics who dug out the half-orc.And they seem to have achieved some results. At least, in the last few undead, Garald has discovered that killing those monsters is becoming more and more difficult.

On the contrary, he himself became weaker day by day.

Although he didn't know what was added to the drugs that Hydra injected him with, Jarod was sure that it wasn't a good thing, they almost made a mess of his body.And being locked up in a dark place for a long time, he could only let others powerlessly slaughter him, which almost destroyed the spiritual fortress he had built over nearly ten thousand years.For the elves, physical torture is never a terrible thing, but destroying their will is. After all, they were created too beautifully and have never been stained by darkness. Once this beauty is flawed, it is like the most exquisite Cracks appeared on the porcelain, and they were not far from being destroyed.

He had to figure out a way.

Moving his arms, he slowly lifted himself up from the cold ground.Garrod staggered to the corner, stretched out his hand in the dim light, and touched the marks he had carved on the wall.

nine.

Nine days have passed since I was caught here by Hydra.

S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers must be out there looking for him, and they're not going to stop until they finally find this place—at least Steve isn't, Jarod knows that.But I don't know how long it will take during this period. Maybe he has died on the Hydra test bench before that, and he can't pin all his hopes on this.He had to think of another way so that he could escape from this dark place.

How to do?

Sitting on the ground against the wall, slowly gathering strength.Garald thought about it carefully for a while, and felt that the biggest opportunity should be when he was taken to the training ground to fight with the orcs. After all, only then was he absolutely free and had weapons—although it was just a grinder. A dull tactical knife, but better than nothing.

These days, he has memorized all the places where he is allowed to walk. With his eyes closed, the elf kept recalling in his mind every place that might allow him to escape.The perennial dampness and coldness on the wall came through his clothes, maintaining his mind in a trance due to blood loss. There was silence around him, like the eternal silence under the deep sea. The only clear thing was his own breathing, which was surrounded by the empty environment. Unlimited magnification in the ear.

But the silence was not always his own.

I felt that strange but familiar dark breath gradually approaching, with a hint of bloody smell that couldn't be concealed.Garald's eyelids moved, he opened his eyes, and looked outside the iron bars of the dungeon.

As expected, there stood a figure wrapped in a black cloak.

In fact, ever since Garald was captured in this base, the shadow that directly caused him to be here has never appeared in front of him.Of course, it was also possible that the other party had appeared, but Garald didn't know about it.After all, even an elf with ten times the hearing ability can't hear his footsteps. Even if he can detect it through the complex but extremely unique breath, but he is not always in a state of keen sense, it is understandable that he can't detect it.

However, the situation is obviously different now.

Because this black cloak was obviously looking for him, and also planned to have a face-to-face conversation with him.

"Looks like you're having a good time here."

It was hard to tell if there was any sarcasm in that extremely hoarse voice.Jialuode raised his head, looked at the man with his green eyes for a long time, and then curled the corners of his mouth coldly.

"Thanks to you."

He narrowed his eyes slightly: "I've never had such a 'good' life."

"That's good."

Probably because of a light laugh, the man slowly raised his head. On the mandible exposed from under the cloak was hideous and tangled skin like that of a half-orc, but it was surprisingly fair, as if it wasn't born like this.

Sensing Garald's gaze on his face, the black cloak hummed, and stretched out his hand, which was also full of scars, to cover the hood that covered his entire face.

"Including now, we have met three times in this era."

He said slowly: "You are probably curious about who I am and why I arrested you here."

"True, but only part of who you are."

Keenly noticed that he said "in this era", Jialuode couldn't help frowning: "Should I have seen you before?"

"I do not know."

And the man laughed softly again: "But I will never forget."

As he spoke, he slowly pulled down the hood, revealing his face hidden under the cloak.

It was an incredible face.His original face was as exquisite as the person in the painting, with straight eyebrows and a tear mole at the corner of his eye that was so faint that it was almost invisible, not even much inferior to Garrod.However, half of such a pretty face was covered with hideous burns and scars, as ferocious as a half-orc.

And that wasn't what shocked Garrod the most.

With the hood fully lifted, his entire head, hidden under the cloak, was exposed.Under the dim light of the dungeon, Garrod could see clearly that he clearly had a pair of pointed ears like elves.

Garrod froze for a moment.

"So, we should have met."

With his eyes tightly locked on his face, the man said: "When you left me on the road to die."