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Los Angeles Lakers vs Minnesota Timberwolves
Los Angeles Lakers vs Minnesota Timberwolves #nba #warrios #magick #nbajosesanchezwor After a victory this week over the ...
Stephen Curry All 402 Three-Pointers Full Highlights (2015-2016 Season Three-ilation Part II)
The campus of Oxford University was quiet. In the chilly early-morning air, the only disturbance was the nearly inaudible rustling of Stephen’s clothes as he attempted to find a way into the history building. Stephen squinted up at the rows of windows. One of them had to be left open, somewhere; given the temperature in the building yesterday, it was a safe assumption that the place had never been retrofitted with air conditioning. The clouds obscuring the moon made it difficult to see very much, but Stephen was thankful for them; he was able to carry a ladder underneath his arm with little fear of being seen by a sleepless student glancing out a window. After walking around the entire building and scrutinizing it carefully, Stephen saw the outline of a swung-open windowpane on the building’s southern wall. Wasting no time, he propped his ladder against the wall and climbed up. Soon, he was standing in an office on the third floor. Still taking pains to be quiet, not knowing whether housekeeping would be working this late, he went down to the ground floor where Professor Martin Doyle’s office was located. Stephen was glad to find the door unlocked; he would not have to waste time picking the centuries-old mechanism. He entered the dark office directly, taking out a small, dim flashlight to search for what he sought. Doyle’s aversion to any discussion about the three-point amulet had betrayed his knowledge of it; Stephen was hopeful that there would be some notes or correspondence on the matter. In contrast to the office itself, Doyle’s cabinets were all locked, but a solid whack with the butt-end of the flashlight rectified that inconvenience. Stephen searched with as much haste as he could afford, not knowing when activity in the building would resume In one of the cabinets, tucked behind endless academic journals and hard-copy departmental memos, he found a yellowed, crumbling manuscript. Carefully extracting it from its hiding place, Stephen read the title: “Concerning the Creation and Ensorcellment of Magickal Objects, the Techniques thereof, and how Practitioners thereof Must be Qualified.” There was no publisher or publication date listed, but Stephen did not doubt that he was holding an authentic copy of a 15th-century occult text. Inserted between the cover page and the first page of text was a handwritten note, presumably left by Doyle himself: “I have given Dr. Bird the information he requested from the ‘Magickal Objects…’ text. I am, however, beginning to question his credentials, given the uneducated manner in which he writes his letters; I would not like to damage a relationship with a fellow scholar of the Medieval cabalistic arts, so I keep my concerns to myself. I can only hope that his interest in enchantments is purely academic, as he claims…” The picture was becoming clearer. Larry had indeed spoken to Doyle all those decades ago, and he had used the gained knowledge to create an enchanted three-point shooting amulet just before the NBA would institute the three-point line. Doyle had somehow become aware not only of the amulet, but also its insidious effect on any who dared wear it, and he was determined to never again let such an object be created. But now, the arcane manuscript had been discovered, and its heretical secrets would soon be divulged. Stephen picked it up again and opened to a random page, awed by the intricate diagrams and captivated by the obscure writings… “What are you doing in my office?” came a cold voice from behind Stephen’s seated position at the desk. Stephen’s heart sank as he realized that he had become so lost in the manuscript that it was now fully morning, sunlight streaming through the window. Wordlessly, Stephen tucked the manuscript under his arm and charged at the door. Rather than get run over by the younger, more athletic man, Doyle stepped out the way and grabbed feebly at Stephen’s retreating form. “Stop! Stop!” the scholar yelled, but Stephen knew that he could not stop. Campus security would be called at any moment. He would be detained and his precious document would be taken away from him. No, the only choice was to keep running. “I know who you are!” Doyle accusingly shouted from far down the hallway. “You’re Stephen Curry!” Stephen was so stunned that, for a moment, he had to resist the impulse to stop running. How did the man know his identity? There was no time to think. He burst through the front doors of the building and ran towards the Oxford city center. Finally, he reached a dingy alley where he could catch his breath. The police would have been called by now, surely. He had precious little time to get out of the country. But the inconvenience of being hunted by law enforcement paled in comparison to the new power that Stephen felt surging through his body, power borne in the knowledge that the secrets of the three-point shooting amulet would soon be unveiled before him.
Stephen Curry All 221 Three-Pointers Full Highlights (2017-18 Season Three-ilation Part I)
As soon as Stephen's fingertip grazed the vibrant green surface of the portal, everything changed. The warning voice of Steve Kerr disappeared from his hearing, and the subterranean cavern disappeared from his sight. He was being pulled through a void of absolute black, and even his own physical being seemed to have vanished out of existence. Either that, or it had been left behind in the previous dimension. When he looked down, the only thing he could see was the magicked Three-Point Shooting Amulet on its chain. It pulsated like it was alive. Stephen knew what was happening. He was going to the realm of the Other Gods. The gods that existed above and beyond the feeble gods of the Earthly religions. The gods to whom the attributions of "omnipresent" and "omniscient" were laughably inadequate. The gods who were outside of time. The gods who were time itself. The gods who would grant him, Stephen, absolute mastery over the amulet. An amulet which he had the skill to create, but not the power to control. For some reason, Stephen's disembodied thoughts turned to his teammate, Klay Thompson. Klay coveted the power of the amulet, but was too simple to fathom its true nature. How pathetic he was, even when judged against the lowly whole of the human race. Stephen knew that he was about to shed his repugnant humanity forever, leaving behind not only Klay, but all of mankind. The black void resolved itself in his eyeless sight. Colors returned, as did his body, which looked the same as its earthly counterpart. He found himself standing on a wide plain that, aside from some distorted rocky outcroppings, was devoid of landmarks. However, he was unsure if the world he was on was real, or just a creation of the Gods, provided to his mind in order to ease his transition to their dimension. The "Magickal Objects…" volume which had provided so much vital information to him had stopped short of any description of the realm of the "Othre Gods", only alluding to its unknowable and sanity-obliterating nature in fearful tones. Perhaps what he was looking at was a mere veneer over a dimension of utter chaos and malignity. Up ahead was a tall mountain crowned by a grand city or palace marked by towering spires and wide arches. Again, it could have been a sort of visual metaphor for the power of the Gods, but that didn't matter much. Stephen had no way to empirically evaluate the realness of his surroundings. He had achieved knowledge greater than all but a scant few humans over the millennia, but there was still so much to learn. And he felt that the city on the mountain was where he would learn it. — The journey to the mountain took a long time, but it also took no time at all. For all of the trappings of the human experience that Stephen still retained, the sensation of the passing of time was not one of them. There was no sun in this world, nullifying humanity's main visual indicator that time was indeed elapsing, and Stephen felt neither fatigue, nor hunger, nor thirst, which was another such indicator. In fact, the only sensation that Stephen could say he "felt" was the amulet dangling against his naked chest. At the base of the mountain, the whole thing seemed much taller, but those gleaming spires were still visible at the top of the steeply-angled rock faces. At first, Stephen looked for some pathway up it, but when he didn't find one, he realized that he probably didn't need one. Boldly placing a foot on the nearly-vertical rock face, he found the footing inexplicably solid. In that way he proceeded upwards at an impossible angle as if it were a stroll upon flat ground. As he got closer, the amulet seemed to sense that it was getting closer to its true origins, and it jittered. Now Stephen stood at the mountain's peak and was faced directly with some of the mysterious architecture of the city. Gargantuan stone blocks, decorated with impossibly fine and detailed inscriptions, comprised the larger walls. The inscriptions aroused a faint flicker of memory in Stephen, and he realized that he had seen them before in his dreams. Among these writings were the instructions that he had used to conduct the ritual that had opened the portal in the first place. If only he could decipher them, he was sure that here also were the instructions needed to gain true mastery over the amulet. But he knew it was no use to dwell at this spot. The Other Gods were not just going to offer those secrets freely. He was still just an interloper in their realm, and they had not forgotten how the amulet had originally been created: with the influences of mankind's foul, false theologies. Even know, Stephen suspected that the effectuation of his demise was being plotted. To his side was a doorway which led into the complex, which could have been one or multiple structures. It opened with just a small push, revealing a lit chamber beyond. Stephen placed one foot inside. Immediately, a slimy black tentacle grabbed him and pulled him in.
MICHAEL B. JORDAN PSYCHIC READING 🔥😘✊🏾✊🏿✊🏽
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