Bobbie’s expression was grave. “The Faceless Ones are a new race, or to be precise, a very old race that has been in hiding for a long time.” Bobbie looked uncomfortable even talking about them. “They have begun building their strange machines and terrible devices across the world. No one knows to which gods, if any, they pray, but the ywield knowledge as to make the University look like a tribe of cavemen.”
“Eventually, we started coming across ruins. Ancient, dilapidated structures once inhabited by Pre-Rising humanity. They were an inescapable part of any Wasteland Journey. Most Recon and Extermination rangers cut their teeth on these particular ruins, looking for mutant stragglers or bandits hoping to intercept Remnant convoys. These structures, which included everything from gas stations to schools, were a missed sight. Most were half-collapsed at best. Others were eerily perfect, as if their owners had just stepped out for the night. Driving past them was always a sobering experience, however. Everywhere were reminders of the days when humanity had been great and powerful.”
“Step up into my greenhouse and speak your names.”
“I see Flames and blood.”
“I hear screams and dying… Your past is your past. You know why you are here, as do I… Once you cross my threshold and enter my home, there are only three things I require of you. There shall be no violence, no lying, and no lateness. Break one of these and you forfeit your right to remain here…Welcome to my home.”
“The point is, I wasn’t special. I was a no one.
But it’s all my fault.
This place in the mountains.
The way things are.
All of it.
Because I stole the wrong thing.”
“Let’s play a little game. How long can you hold your breath?”
“I told you already. We don’t do none of that kinky s--t. Just straight up action, baby.”
“But I don’t like straight-up action, baby. And nobody cares what you like!”
“Times Square, 1986: the home of New York’s red light district, where strip clubs, porno theatres, and petty crime prevail.
When a chance encounter for Peepbooth worker Roxy Bell leads to the brutal murder of a public access pornographer, the erotic performer and her punk rock ex-partner Nick Zero soon find themselves under fire from criminals, cops, and the city elite, as they begin to untangle a complex web of corruption leading right to City Hall.
Like the Naked City, there are eight million stories in the Deuce. This is one of them…”
"The world ended while we were playing cards.”
In this thrilling debut from Nerdist, a ragtag group of survivors struggles to hold on to hope.
’I’ve been following you since your Belle Wood days. Tell me - were you truly prepared to fight all of these men with just your fists and a short blade?”
“No. I planned on grabbing a bottle of whiskey and clubbing some of them to death with it.”
Paris, 1923. The Great War has been over for 5 years, and everyone is reveling in the Jazz Age. Everyone except Francis Carver, back for the first time since he left six years earlier to fight in the War. Back bearing a guilty soul, a distinctive scar, and a heavy legend… “The Bloody Marine of Belle Wood.” Brought back by letter from the one woman he can’t forget and followed every step by the Paris Underworld.
“Mia glanced toward the window in the kitchen. It was too dark to see anything outside now, so it was just this rectangle of blackness reflecting back the candles and lanterns inside the cabin. She took another swallow of beer and said, very quietly, ‘I think I killed someone when I was thirteen years old.’ “
Most people do it the first time when they’re teenagers. Not me… The first time I ever did it was at work. Honest. In the glass conference room with ten other people.