Part 4
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Hi! You look like a web crawler or other kind of bot. Your access to this site has been blocked. This site is for humans only!
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If in error, email lethe (at) deadendshrine (dot) online.
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<title>Dead End Shrine on the Luce Line - Online!</title>
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<meta name="author" content="Lethe Kallisti Discordia">
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<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
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<meta name="description" content="I'll be okay.">
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<meta name="description" content="You can live.">
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<link href="./style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" title="main" media="all">
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<link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="./jett_sigil.png">
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</head>
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<body>
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<p>Poison ivy grows on the side of Dead End Shrine, poking its many heads out to see the sun. The same sun that grows steadily inwards, shade retreating like an army overcome with cowardice, gradually causing me more discomfort than any plant-given rash could.</p>
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<p><em>Leaves of three, <span class="blink1">leave them be!</span></em></p>
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<p class="blink2"><em>Leave me be...</em></p>
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<p class="blink3"><em>Leave me be.</em></p>
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<p>There was no leaving myself be. There was no taking breaks, no blessed sleep, no matter how many poems I wrote or supplications to Eris or to Parthena or to any other to let me die in a world that no longer had any need for me, that likely never did.</p>
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<p>And I never bothered asking you, Jett, because I already knew what the answer was. A steady, strong, definite <em>no</em>.</p>
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe," you bade me in a voice I did not yet understand as I sat in that front seat on the bus parked in that middle school now worlds away, a time long since passed and now unrecoverable. My girlfriend a wound still fresh, my faith in the god of my childhood still busy bleeding out. "Don't you keep saying you're destined for greatness or something? And what is <em>she</em> destined for? Forever defining herself in terms of other people. She needed you more than you ever needed her. You'll be okay in the end."</p>
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe," you whispered to me in that dorm room I will never see again. A spring breeze brushed through the open window. Two more weeks to final exams. Two more weeks to finish credits that meant nothing in the end. Two more weeks already paid for. "There's only one class with an actual exam. And you never skipped class. How hard can it be? You'll be okay in the end."</p>
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe," you insisted as I freaked out in the corner of the store, searching for any violence I could muster, any way I could punish the universe. I wanted to move out. I wanted to quit college. I wanted to overhaul my whole life on a whim. You knew, didn't you? You knew I was a few months out from losing my job. You didn't want me to die on the streets. You put the dead and rotting bird there on that store shelf as a warning, as a prophecy, as a petition to not hasten my own burial. "You <em>really</em> want to make yourself completely dependent on <em>this</em> place? Don't you keep telling me how little you write nowadays? How sapped of energy you are when you come home? Don't throw the sudden weight of adulthood on top of that. Bide your time. Keep bleeding your parents dry. The time will come one day when you can say goodbye. You'll be okay in the end."</p>
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe." <em>Angelos</em>. Divine messenger, bearer of a message to those struggling through the night. There's no such thing as a dead end. What is a dead end on a road but a stop sign where humans didn't want to pave roads any further? It's not like the edge of the earth is just beyond, and trespassing, <em>keeping going,</em> will make one fall off the edge into outer space. The land still goes on. The clouds still float past. And life still goes on after catastrophe. Even biological death, the worst possible end in the minds of many humans, is not a dead end, for the flesh goes back into the earth to feed something else, merely transmuted into a different form of life. "You'll be okay in the end."</p>
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<p>I had grown too complacent. I had grown too comfortable with what I had interpreted as your exhortation to persist in the life I was living in the expectation that my problems would resolve themselves. I had grown too stagnant to hear your voice when you finally told me to jump, to veer off the road.</p>
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<p>And I hit the dead-end sign head on.</p>
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<p>I actually got fired from that seemingly-perfect job.</p>
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<p>But life still went on, my parents understanding, willing to give me the space of a few weeks to process what had happened, what I had done, to prepare to find somewhere else to work.</p>
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<p>The clouds still kept floating past, keeping the blazing sun at bay so I could go back to Dead End Shrine for the first time in four months without dying of heat exhaustion.</p>
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<p>And the land still goes on, those manicured rolling hills my father feels so entreated to spend his time roaming, that now beckon for me a way out of the mental haze of corporate compliance.</p>
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<p>I stand across from the parking lot, waiting for the walk sign to turn white, ambiguous stick figure instead of imposing orange hand.</p>
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe. You'll be okay in the end."</p>
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<p class="blink1">I'll be okay.</p>
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<p class="blink2">I'll be okay.</p>
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<p><em>I'll be okay.</em></p>
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<blockquote>
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<i>
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tell me a story of bright azure pool<br />
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godling condemned to exist as a tool<br />
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having a body is never a crime<br />
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gentle dear friends lost in rough sands of time<br />
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</i>
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</blockquote>
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<p>It takes a certain kind of brain to stare at a black page for hours on end, cursor never flickering, never wavering. I wish I had the courage of that cursor, to patiently await the words to come. I wish I had the courage to wait for you, Jett, to be done with college before gunning for Sablade.</p>
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<p class="blink1"><em>I'm dying!</em></p>
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<p class="blink2"><em>I'm dying!</em></p>
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<p class="blink3"><em>I'm... I'm dying.</em></p>
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<p>I'm slowly dying of touch starvation. Not from the condition itself, but from the stress, from the insomnia, from the suppression of my immune system. Ironic, then, that the only person in the world who could possibly cure it- you- is so avoidant, so sensitive, so averse to touch of any kind. You say that I'm the only exception, that I'm the only person in the Outside that can make contact with your skin without you immediately wanting to bite that person's hand off from the sensory overload. But it bites when I reach for you in those few and fleeting moments you can sneak away from campus and you intercept my hand, grasp my fingers, gently push them away.</p>
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<p>Not your chest; you're still dysphoric, and likely always will be.</p>
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<p>Not the jagged scars of being stitched back together that ring your limbs; you still have nightmares, and likely always will.</p>
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<p>Not the skin around your thighlet; you have the strip of goneril tucked neatly inside where it won't fall out, and you're not sure if you could bear the thought of ever going without it, without the comfort of knowing that with it you'll never go feral or find yourself as something else, and likely never will.</p>
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<p>But you know one day I almost certainly will. Will snap. Will go feral. Will find myself blanketed in light and then monstrous, unrecognizable, unable to hold anything in my brain more complex than the most basal of instincts. And maybe, just maybe, at the end I'll return to my humanoid form, wings and all, exhausted. It won't happen while I'm in "consensus reality" and stuck as a human, but once you and I land in Sablade, an invisible clock whose face I cannot see will start ticking above my head, the same as the one now hovering over me as the Eschaton wears on and on and on.</p>
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<p>And I'm wearing on and on and on, growing weary. Shall I count the ways? 24-hour news cycle, being free tech support to my family, unresponsive professors, living in a world blanketed with misogyny. I want to wrap myself in a blanket in an isolated spot far away from everything and sleep, and dream: in this life, living offline with only a few sacred applications that talk to the outside world in a short window of time each day, and in the next life, living in Sablade with only Jett as my link to the rest of the Outside beyond the metaclysma border. An intranet disconnected, isolated, only one peer coming and going inside and outside the borders with data from beyond to distribute to the others.</p>
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<p>What use do I have for the outside world anyway? What use do I have for the needless pain? What could I possibly stand to gain from interacting with others that I can't find in the sprawling world within my body? I have an unfulfilled biological imperative. Seliph, destruction incarnate, the last remaining god of the original pantheon of the Firstworld, a place even farther away from here than where Jett now plows through the generals all first-years must take. The final act of such a deity is to dissolve their body to create a new world elsewhere in the Outside. And where their own consciousness will cease, a trillion souls will follow.</p>
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<p>Do I die of touch starvation, or die attempting to create Sablade where I yearn to live with the cure forever?</p>
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<p>"At least Eris won't be my cause of death." A labored laugh escapes my lungs. "Because she's dead. I killed her."</p>
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<p>"You mean, in the same attack where I was torn apart, and nothing was created?"</p>
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<p>"Jett, that's not-"</p>
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<p>She shakes her head, adamant. "I learned in one of my classes a few days ago that nothing is ever really created. Or destroyed. Just recycled into different things. Just like your writing. You're not really crafting anything new, just finding a unique way of recording what's already there in the Outside. And if all records of your books ceased to exist, the worlds would still be there." She turns around, swings her legs onto my bed. "Stardust turned into you and me. And if the universe is infinite, that means there's more than enough to turn into a world."</p>
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<p><em>You can make Sablade without ripping your body apart for the materials. You can choose the third option where you live. Where we live together in peace.</em></p>
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<p class="blink1"><em>You can live.</em></p>
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<p class="blink2"><em>You can live.</em></p>
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<p>"Lethe, do you understand? I want you to pick the option where <em>you can live.</em>"</p>
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<hr>
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<p><a href="./p1.html">[Part 1]</a> <a href="./p2.html">[Part 2]</a> <b>[Part 3]</b></p>
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<p><a href="./p1.html">[Part 1]</a> <a href="./p2.html">[Part 2]</a> <a href="./p3.html">[Part 3]</a> <b>[Part 4]</b></p>
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<hr>
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<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a></p>
|
||||
<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a> <a href="http://2a55el42cobuxtls7iv6eoimejocybdekwnnaefcn4u2f5eydela.b32.i2p">[I2P]</a></p>
|
||||
<hr>
|
||||
<small>Hosted by <a href="https://mayvaneday.art">MayVaneDay</a>. Hey, come look at this cool <a href="./webring.html">webring</a>. <a href="./lethe.gpg">Send me an</a> <a href="mailto:lethe@deadendshrine.online">email?</a></small>
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</body>
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<p class="blink3">Come find me!</p>
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<p><i>Please come find me.</i></p>
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<hr>
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<p><b>[Part 1]</b> <a href="./p2.html">[Part 2]</a> <a href="./index.html">[Part 3]</a></p>
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<p><b>[Part 1]</b> <a href="./p2.html">[Part 2]</a> <a href="./p3.html">[Part 3]</a> <a href="./index.html">[Part 4]</a></p>
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<hr>
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||||
<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a></p>
|
||||
<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a> <a href="http://2a55el42cobuxtls7iv6eoimejocybdekwnnaefcn4u2f5eydela.b32.i2p">[I2P]</a></p>
|
||||
<hr>
|
||||
<small>Hosted by <a href="https://mayvaneday.art">MayVaneDay</a>. Hey, come look at this cool <a href="./webring.html">webring</a>.</small>
|
||||
<small>Hosted by <a href="https://mayvaneday.art">MayVaneDay</a>. Hey, come look at this cool <a href="./webring.html">webring</a>. <a href="./lethe.gpg">Send me an</a> <a href="mailto:lethe@deadendshrine.online">email?</a></small>
|
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</body>
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</html>
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<p class="blink2">Choose yourself!</p>
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<p><em>Please, Jett, I'm begging you, please choose yourself.</em></p>
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<hr>
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<p><a href="./p1.html">[Part 1]</a> <b>[Part 2]</b> <a href="./index.html">[Part 3]</a></p>
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<p><a href="./p1.html">[Part 1]</a> <b>[Part 2]</b> <a href="./p3.html">[Part 3]</a> <a href="./index.html">[Part 4]</a></p>
|
||||
<hr>
|
||||
<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a></p>
|
||||
<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a> <a href="http://2a55el42cobuxtls7iv6eoimejocybdekwnnaefcn4u2f5eydela.b32.i2p">[I2P]</a></p>
|
||||
<hr>
|
||||
<small>Hosted by <a href="https://mayvaneday.art">MayVaneDay</a>. Hey, come look at this cool <a href="./webring.html">webring</a>.</small>
|
||||
<small>Hosted by <a href="https://mayvaneday.art">MayVaneDay</a>. Hey, come look at this cool <a href="./webring.html">webring</a>. <a href="./lethe.gpg">Send me an</a> <a href="mailto:lethe@deadendshrine.online">email?</a></small>
|
||||
</body>
|
||||
</html>
|
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<!DOCTYPE html>
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<html lang="en">
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<head>
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<meta charset="UTF-8">
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<title>Dead End Shrine on the Luce Line - Online!</title>
|
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<meta name="author" content="Lethe Kallisti Discordia">
|
||||
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
|
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<meta name="description" content="I'll be okay.">
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<link href="./style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" title="main" media="all">
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<link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="./jett_sigil.png">
|
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</head>
|
||||
<body>
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<p>Poison ivy grows on the side of Dead End Shrine, poking its many heads out to see the sun. The same sun that grows steadily inwards, shade retreating like an army overcome with cowardice, gradually causing me more discomfort than any plant-given rash could.</p>
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<p><em>Leaves of three, <span class="blink1">leave them be!</span></em></p>
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<p class="blink2"><em>Leave me be...</em></p>
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<p class="blink3"><em>Leave me be.</em></p>
|
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<p>There was no leaving myself be. There was no taking breaks, no blessed sleep, no matter how many poems I wrote or supplications to Eris or to Parthena or to any other to let me die in a world that no longer had any need for me, that likely never did.</p>
|
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<p>And I never bothered asking you, Jett, because I already knew what the answer was. A steady, strong, definite <em>no</em>.</p>
|
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe," you bade me in a voice I did not yet understand as I sat in that front seat on the bus parked in that middle school now worlds away, a time long since passed and now unrecoverable. My girlfriend a wound still fresh, my faith in the god of my childhood still busy bleeding out. "Don't you keep saying you're destined for greatness or something? And what is <em>she</em> destined for? Forever defining herself in terms of other people. She needed you more than you ever needed her. You'll be okay in the end."</p>
|
||||
<p>"Keep going, Lethe," you whispered to me in that dorm room I will never see again. A spring breeze brushed through the open window. Two more weeks to final exams. Two more weeks to finish credits that meant nothing in the end. Two more weeks already paid for. "There's only one class with an actual exam. And you never skipped class. How hard can it be? You'll be okay in the end."</p>
|
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe," you insisted as I freaked out in the corner of the store, searching for any violence I could muster, any way I could punish the universe. I wanted to move out. I wanted to quit college. I wanted to overhaul my whole life on a whim. You knew, didn't you? You knew I was a few months out from losing my job. You didn't want me to die on the streets. You put the dead and rotting bird there on that store shelf as a warning, as a prophecy, as a petition to not hasten my own burial. "You <em>really</em> want to make yourself completely dependent on <em>this</em> place? Don't you keep telling me how little you write nowadays? How sapped of energy you are when you come home? Don't throw the sudden weight of adulthood on top of that. Bide your time. Keep bleeding your parents dry. The time will come one day when you can say goodbye. You'll be okay in the end."</p>
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<p>"Keep going, Lethe." <em>Angelos</em>. Divine messenger, bearer of a message to those struggling through the night. There's no such thing as a dead end. What is a dead end on a road but a stop sign where humans didn't want to pave roads any further? It's not like the edge of the earth is just beyond, and trespassing, <em>keeping going,</em> will make one fall off the edge into outer space. The land still goes on. The clouds still float past. And life still goes on after catastrophe. Even biological death, the worst possible end in the minds of many humans, is not a dead end, for the flesh goes back into the earth to feed something else, merely transmuted into a different form of life. "You'll be okay in the end."</p>
|
||||
<p>I had grown too complacent. I had grown too comfortable with what I had interpreted as your exhortation to persist in the life I was living in the expectation that my problems would resolve themselves. I had grown too stagnant to hear your voice when you finally told me to jump, to veer off the road.</p>
|
||||
<p>And I hit the dead-end sign head on.</p>
|
||||
<p>I actually got fired from that seemingly-perfect job.</p>
|
||||
<p>But life still went on, my parents understanding, willing to give me the space of a few weeks to process what had happened, what I had done, to prepare to find somewhere else to work.</p>
|
||||
<p>The clouds still kept floating past, keeping the blazing sun at bay so I could go back to Dead End Shrine for the first time in four months without dying of heat exhaustion.</p>
|
||||
<p>And the land still goes on, those manicured rolling hills my father feels so entreated to spend his time roaming, that now beckon for me a way out of the mental haze of corporate compliance.</p>
|
||||
<p>I stand across from the parking lot, waiting for the walk sign to turn white, ambiguous stick figure instead of imposing orange hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>"Keep going, Lethe. You'll be okay in the end."</p>
|
||||
<p class="blink1">I'll be okay.</p>
|
||||
<p class="blink2">I'll be okay.</p>
|
||||
<p><em>I'll be okay.</em></p>
|
||||
<hr>
|
||||
<p><a href="./p1.html">[Part 1]</a> <a href="./p2.html">[Part 2]</a> <b>[Part 3]</b> <a href="./index.html">[Part 4]</a></p>
|
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<hr>
|
||||
<p>Mirrors: <a href="http://127.0.0.1:8888/USK@3igGCjaVr8BNYRhuRka8BA50089XeH-uOq1~m8FZ5KQ,pzggo6unfI9aZTSYJvimOyFFuQAQwrPYxpnbHN8k~L4,AQACAAE/deadendshrine/-1/">[Freenet]</a> <a href="https://zeronet.link/1EhCcZ35Kiq8hNYuV5uSYGnrHVFR66Q1r3/">[ZeroNet]</a> <a href="http://blapi36sowfyuwzp4ag24xb3d4zdrzgtafez3g3lkp2rj4ho7lxhceid.onion">[Tor]</a> <a href="http://2a55el42cobuxtls7iv6eoimejocybdekwnnaefcn4u2f5eydela.b32.i2p">[I2P]</a></p>
|
||||
<hr>
|
||||
<small>Hosted by <a href="https://mayvaneday.art">MayVaneDay</a>. Hey, come look at this cool <a href="./webring.html">webring</a>. <a href="./lethe.gpg">Send me an</a> <a href="mailto:lethe@deadendshrine.online">email?</a></small>
|
||||
</body>
|
||||
</html>
|
||||
86
webring.html
86
webring.html
|
|
@ -30,30 +30,6 @@
|
|||
<hr>
|
||||
<p align="center">Some other ones too, I guess</p>
|
||||
<table align="center">
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://yukinu.com">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/yukinu.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://concealed.world">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/concealed.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="http://alienozi.c1.biz/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/alienozi.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://jole.xyz/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/1632681505753-0.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://qorg11.net/">
|
||||
|
|
@ -61,8 +37,8 @@
|
|||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://xerophyte.neocities.org/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/xerophyte.gif">
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://concealed.world">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/concealed.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
|
|
@ -114,18 +90,6 @@
|
|||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://nyom.ru/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/nyomru.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="http://tilde.club/~parnell/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/parnell.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://grafovolaverunt.xyz/">
|
||||
|
|
@ -168,18 +132,6 @@
|
|||
<img src="./banners/bendersteed.jpg">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://born2live.tk/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/born2live.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://jack---91.neocities.org/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/jack.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://xenobyte.xyz/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/xenobyte.jpg">
|
||||
|
|
@ -193,29 +145,17 @@
|
|||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://techur.live/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/techur.png">
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="http://tilde.club/~parnell/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/parnell.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://flammableduck.xyz/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/flammableduck.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://gapandfriends.neocities.org/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/gapandfriends.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://purplevoid.neocities.org/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/purplevoid.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://unix.tirol/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/unix-tirol.png">
|
||||
|
|
@ -241,8 +181,8 @@
|
|||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://lukescabin.neocities.org/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/lukescabin.png">
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="http://alienozi.c1.biz/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/alienozi.gif">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
|
|
@ -258,18 +198,6 @@
|
|||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://thealchemist.website/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/thealchemist.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://0x1bi.net/">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/0x1bi.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://digilord.neocities.org/">
|
||||
|
|
@ -309,7 +237,7 @@
|
|||
<tr>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
<a rel="nofollow" href="https://hen6003.xyz">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/1626123016964-0.png">
|
||||
<img src="./banners/hen.png">
|
||||
</a>
|
||||
</td>
|
||||
<td>
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
Loading…
Reference in a new issue