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Therefore, any attempt to destroy evidence will be futile, and could make this lawsuit more difficult and expensive for you to defend.
Journey of love can be futile, for no one can choose who to fall in love with.
Stoicism) and which should, ideally, make of us wise men, is in fact futile when confronted with an audience that is disposed neither to conversion nor to wisdom?
She is beautiful even before a fool Her smile makes me go an extra mile on a journey that’s seems futile Where on earth can I find the right expression of this mystery called love?
The rising screams were dim, the crowd’s flight futile in their panic.
Agent Daedalus Division 66 Toronto Operation Overview: The operation began innocently enough, with a trip to the icecream truck. After ordering a vanilla milkshake, I returned home to find a black envelope sitting at my door. Taking it inside to report the the division, I found my phone ringing. Immediately setting my milkshake down on my desk I answer the call and opened the envelope. Upon receiving instructions to bus to the location of the safehouse, I immediately disregarded them and arranged my own more efficient transportation down. Upon arrival, I went to the apartment designated, and set up a stream to the other agents in the division. Investigating the mission briefcase I found the supplies needed for the upcoming mission. After a nights sleep I woke up to a phone call from dispatch. Agent Flemming would be along shortly with new orders. Flemming brought new orders and deep regret in my choice of career. A five minute operation had just become a 12 hour one. On the bright sitem Flemming had brought Timbits. So most was well. The assignment consisted of walking and lots of it. With the help of the rest of the division, weatherman’s riddles were easily solved. With solving came a sense of achievement. Then more walking. I attempted to engage in some banter with Flemming, but he seemed content to actually focus on his job. So I did the same, and focused on more walking. I ended up waiting for boat to Toronto island, but soon deemed that a futile effort. Giving up on the boat, I took a taxi to the next site and continued the operation. Approximately half way through the operation, the need to return and recharge became apparent. I found myself with an unfortunately long walk (4 km seemed so much shorter on the screen) I made it back to the safehouse, with no power to spare. After downing a bottle of poweraid and recharging my phone I was the recipient of a packed lunch from dispatch. Sadly, said lunch was quite spicy. I assume this is an attempt from dispatch to make me ill, as spicey food and 6 hour death marches don’t mix well. I also received a very angry call from Vanessa Baup, who was displeased with my progress so far. I politely told her to stuff it. My resting period was punctuated by complaining about bloody feet to the rest of the division. Now that my feet have healed, I am now use it to brag to other agents. The rest of the division used this time to refine ideas and provide me with more solid intel. After this, three more locations were found. Being the cheaters that we are, we filled in the blanks. Of course, all of this was punctuated by more walking. After an upload to the USB drive provided, I was able to briefly return to base and cram as much power in my phone as I could. Before long it was time to go to go to the exchange. Noting the burned out bus on the route, I was filled with nothing but confidence. The morpho agents were as kind and inviting as a bucket full of angry crabs. Except less angry, and more cold. With hints of total distain. I am happy to report that at no time during this meeting broke down crying. The Morpho agents were collected, calm, and completely immune to my attempts at misdirection. However, the trade was a success. One terrified cabbie later, I was back at the safehouse and ready to go. As per the instructions, I was able to do the ritual, and deliver the artifact to Baup’s contact at the Fairmont Royal. It was quite ritzy. After giving an occult superweapon to a living superweapon pointed squarely at Morpho, I decided the best course of action was to run like hell outside of the operation zone. Within 15 minutes I was on a train bound away from here. I have since returned to standard base and remained in the area since. Sustain Composure of all operatives was well maintained throughout the operation. Communication was well maintained, and all agents in the field took to the walking quite well. This saved us considerably in division funds. I would also like to commend my own actions in not crying during the exchange. (Please redact everything after “in” for the sake of my ego) Improvement There’s seems to be some magic function in the hailing of taxis. I’ve yet to uncover it. Murphy’s law was in full effect throughout the entire mission. Flemming is probably laughing about my search for a cybercafe even now. Exhaustion is a constant throughout the mission. While an agent walking until his feet bleed is badass, it probably should be avoided in the future. More info on Shale would be helpful in impersonating a Shale security officer. History, codes, uniform, that sort of thing. I’d also like to request some sort of high explosive suicide vest in case of capture.
He feels nothing but anger and decides to let loose with all he has, but its ultimately futile and continues to get beaten to a pulp.
Yuyuko chuckled, only seeming to be amused by Mystia's futile attempts to escape and would have settled for teasing the plump birdie but, alas, her opulent stomach was not content with her playfulness and rumbled in a demand for the pudgy bird be gulped down like the food she was.
A young individual today faces informational possibilities so wast and in most cases so pathetically futile in content that it’s almost a miracle if he or she does not end in absolute mental and emotional numbness.
The first accepts it to be a feasible, albeit lengthy option that is smoother over the long-run, whereas the second takes it to be a futile option that does nothing to achieve transition.
The step of keeping the meeting public was neo but the public response was not appreciable as they conceived it to be futile.
Through this doomed performance Whittier comes to understand that though she will never be a 100, 000 year old piece of ice she can still certainly try and through this futile gesture she can discover not what it is to be nature but what it is to be human.
.it was futile....most of them have the smae probl em minus the COPD 03:37:23 PM [Ray Yeates] ok 03:38:09 PM [TJ] I see.
One must know that the through ball will get to them, if not then all that effort is futile.
Certains font la tournée des bars, d’autres continuent simplement leur routine qui cette fois, semble beaucoup moins futile qu’auparavant.
TEASER FADE IN: EXT. METROPOLIS SKYLINE NIGHT. OPEN on an eerily siren night, tall skyscrapers that once stood tall and stood within the dark sky now stands leaning and burning. PAN through broken windows and crumbled half destroyed buildings. Drift through a pillar of smoke and half destroyed rubble of once tall buildings. RISES up to the half destroyed Daily Planet globe that now hangs only by a mere thread it seems. It's a scene of chaos and destruction...no hope. SIRENS and cries of pain and angst can finally cut through the night as life just suddenly breath into the city. CUT TO: EXT. METROPOLIS CONTINUOUS. We see the (backdrop of the) city sprawling out beyond the rooftops. Arm down, past down past a woman woman in black leather with flowing almost whitish blond hair sprawled over her features, she doesn't look good hanging through a broken window. Lingers on her twitching finger as half torn leather gloves loosen grip on a bo staff she was desperately clutching as her head drops almost lifeless...hair falling to hide her features, down, into an alley where we pick up a BOY of about seventeen. He's running for his life. We move with him through alleys, over fallen bodies and debris. He trips over a body. CLOSE IN on his frightened and too wide brown eyes. WIDENS to show his face, smeared with blood...dirty. Bruised. His lips split and bleeding. PANS out to reveal he looks as if he just stepped out of a warzone with a tattered black tee shirt and the jeans of his left pant leg is completely torn off. He's brunette, sad brown eyes, tall and lanky...awkward teenage phase with glasses...one lense pretty much cracked and useless. This is Nathan Michaels. FRIGHTENING LOUD CRASH OVER HEAD. ON Nathan as he pushes himself up with a pained ground, staring at the dead body he fell over and turns abruptly looking up. TRAVELS WITH HIS LINE OF VISION: An ARCH OF RED ENERGY THAT ONLY COULD BE DESCRIBED AS FOCUSED AND CONCENTRATED HEAT SLAMMED INTO A BUILDING SHATTERING THROUGH IT. THE BUILDING WENT UP IN AN EXPLOSION OF FIERY HEAT AND FLAMES. The force of it threw Nathan off his feet and rolling out of the alley sliding to a half with a painful outcry as he grabbed his side which was bleeding and had an shard of debris embedded. TIGHT ON HIS PAIN. SLOW MOTION: Flaming Debris ran down as large chunks of the building start to make their descent down onto the streets below. Nathan rolls and it futile as its impossible for him to escape in time. A RED STREAK WITH CRACKLING ELECTRICITY CUTS THROUGH THE STREETS AND NATHAN IS GONE WITHIN A FLASH. FOLLOWS THE STREAK AS IT CUTS THROUGH THE STREETS. CUT TO: EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF METROPOLIS CONTINUOUS. On Nathan as he stumbles onto the highway and quickly turns around still holding his side disoriented and shaken. ON the FLASH as he stand before him heroically and nods to him. FLASH Get to safety. And with that he was gone in a flash of red streak. Nathan could only stare...his eyes tight on the city as pillars of smoke and figures too far away could be seen flying down from the heavens it seem onto the city. More red beams of energy striking out in all directions from a source soaring to fast to be seen seemingly combatting the multiple forces raining down onto the city. Tight on Nathan as he drops to his knees. NATHAN (brokenly) This is all my fault...my fault. ZOOM in slowly on his brown eyes as the reflection of the city can be seen burning in their reflection as we travel closer and closer forcing a BLACK OUT: PULL back from the darkness to find ourselves staring at a darkened window pane, the reflection of a sleeping form reflected within it's dark surface. INT. MICHAELS HOME NATHAN'S BEDROOM NIGHT. TIGHT ON Nathan's features as his eyes SNAP OPEN and he jolts upright in bed. Sweating and looking bewildered. He looks around his dark room afraid...and on his fear we... FADE OUT. END OF TEASER. Act 1 FADE IN: EXT. SMALLVILLE CEMETERY NIGHT. TAGLINE: SMALLVLLE, KANSAS. A gravestone. Jonathan Kent. May 22, 1965 April 20, 2015. "Beloved husband and loving father." PULL BACK to reveal CLARK KENT. Baby face features, cute and adorable. Pain stricken and blue eyes red with contained tears. Flannel and jean wearing with worn work boots. His hands clasped together before him. A kid who just lost his...everything. The sounds of FALLING APART BY MATT NATHANSON can be heard in the background. For the longest moment Clark stands there silently and just staring at the tombstone. He closes his eyes a moment and lets out an audible breath. CLARK (softly) I won't let you down dad. (beat) I will make you proud...I promise. Close in on his determined features as he steps down on a knee and places a hand on the tombstone and hands his head. The silhouette of Martha Kent watchng silently and solemnly from the old pick up in the background. HOLD ON the sad and solemn moment as we drift upwards to the clear blue sky as we FLASH OUT: INTERCUT WITH: MALE'S VOICE Freeze! Freeze Police! EXT. CITY STREETS NIGHT. END SONG. TAGLINE: SUICIDE SLUMS. Open on an puddle of water. Small droplets dribble down into it. Slowly the water start to ripple and finally a worn sneaker drops down into it SPLASHING water into the lens. PANS up to a fence, fingers coming into sight grabbing the edge as a man pulls himself up. He's brown skinned and handsome, tough yet vulnerable looking. Close cut black hair and brown eyes. As he drops down into the puddle we sees he's in uniform. This is Officer Pete Ross. Newest rookie cop to the force. He takes off after the perk. A large white man with a balled head, muscular and looking like he could bench press Pete with his pickie. Pete doesn't draw his gun, instead he only kicks it up a gear. Legs moving faster and panting as he jumped forward onto a dumpster and onto the large's man's back. He wrapped his arm around his neck trying to put him in a choke hold. Hands grabbed Pete's arm and tossed him over like he was nothing. He lands onto his back painfully hard letting out a groan his eyes widening as he rolls out of the way barely missing being stomped. He jumps up and sends out a killer front jab to the guy's nose which only cause his head to jerk back. The guy snarled as blood dribbled from his nose and he wiped it away slowly turning his head to Pete. PETE (flatly) Crap... On another fence as there's a yell and Pete comes crashing through it. The man can be seen retreating as Pete lays there possibly seeing floaty birds as he groans. He moved a hand to his head and drops his head back. Allowing his eyes to drift close as DARKNESS overtakes the screen. MALE'S VOICE (V.O.) This is why you don't leave your more experience partner behind rookie. (laughs) Pete groans as he allows his eyes to open and standing above him is... Jim Harper. Upper 20s, blue eyes and brown hair. Not to bad on the eyes and with an easy smile. He offers Pete an hand and pulls him up patting him on the back. He grins after a moment inspecting his face. JIM Yeah that gonna leave a bruise, my friend. (pause) Back to work. Bad guy to catch. (grins, and takes off) Pete lets out a pained breath and bends over gripping his knees looking exhausted before shaking his head and then grabbing his flashlight off the ground and taking off. CUT TO: EXT. CITY STREETS NEXT MORNING. A greyhound pulls up down the street of the bustling and busy street of Metropolis and comes to a halt before the front of the Daily Planet which stands tall and proud as one of the tallest buildings within the city. Passengers start to pile out and among them is the out of place and far from Clark Kent. He steps through the thinning crowd and bumps and stumbles into the busy morning residents who gives him rude looks causing him to avert his gaze. He averts his gaze and turns looking around looking a bit...lost and unsure is an understatement. FEMALE VOICE Watch it. Watch out. Out of the way. Oh god can you be any slow Clark turns toward the voice and is surprised as a woman with shoulder length brown almost black hair and blue eyes comes crashing into him. She's sassy, interesting and very confident while clearly on the move. She looks over her shoulder and turns scowling toward Clark. This is Lois Lane. LOIS Er...hello...farmer and the abercrombie model...i would so ask for the number but i'm kinda am being hunted down by an pissed off client so...bye. She snatches a pen from her jacket and grabs a startled Clark's hand and writes down her name and number. LOIS
It is a miracle in itself for me to be trying this hard to keep reaching out to you even if I know the outcome remains forever futile.