Graffiti online painting

This weekend I saw a nice 4 series in this color, just like the picture here. In person, it was one of the most beautiful colors I’ve ever seen - I thought it was a custom paint job but looked online and see it’s a standard option on some of their cars (although not the Z4). I’ve never liked the colors of the Mk5 Supra, except for the new blue they added this year. But since BMW makes the car anyway, and they have this color, I really wish they would offer some Supras in this color. Maybe for the GRMN model?

Guys do you have any idea who the artist behind the Night Lights cover painting is? Chatgpt suggested David Stone Martin, however I couldn’t find confirmation of him being the painter online. Any guess?

[Request] Graphic Design Ultimate Frisbee Jersey
Please do submit link to portfolio.
Budget target 125
Budget range 75 - 150.
If budget doesn't fit, propose price and I'll evaluate.
Please DO NOT provide concept art expecting a fee, it is welcome but I feel guilty not paying and cannot pay extra fees.
Not all submissions/portfolios will be responded to.
I may take a day or two to review and respond to portfolios.
Goals/Needs/Design/Desires:

1. Graffiti Feel, mild anime or cartoonish OK.

• Is not Anime
  
• Is not Cartoon
  
• https://www.wallpaperflare.com/graffiti-letters-font-text-decoration-painted-wall-art-wallpaper-wvltu
  
• Please note the little guy in the image is off style and not desired.
  

1. Funky Vibes with the letters 'RMK' in Simple style, some elements of wild style

• Is Legible and clear
  
• Is not pure wild style
  
• Can have mild retro
  
• Is not strong retro
  
• Urban Feel
  
• Playful Feel
  

1. Orientation

• Consider names will be added to jersey in typical location
  
• Consider number will be added in typical location
  

1. 'Rosy Mound Kids'

• In Baseball lettering - somewhere tasteful.
  
• https://stock.adobe.com/search?k=baseball+font
  

1. Dive catch or otherwise

• https://cdn.ultiworld.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/ClubNats_2016_TNg_0930_3-33-35_PM_1054-ZF-2289-56204-1-001.jpg
  
• https://ih1.redbubble.net/image.477559047.6632/fposter,small,wall_texture,product,750x1000.jpg
  
• Google images ultimate dive catch
  

1. Darker overall color scheme when considering background. Jersey's will be worn inside out for lights vs darks.
   
2. Short Sleeve graphic
   
3. We prefer .AI (Adobe Illustrator), .CDR (Corel Draw) and .PSD ( Photoshop) formatted artwork.
   
4. Where we are ordering from.
   

• https://zonesportinggoods.com/pages/how-to-order-ultimate-frisbee-uniforms

A bit about the group; we are a pickup team, not a club team but may eventually be a club team. We are Co-Ed, inclusive and care much more about spirit of the game as a priority. Ultimately, this should have a fun vibe, chill atmosphere, but display a high level of competition (in the feel). It's not cutesy - but it is playful. Open to some creative freedom.
I will review portfolios that seem in alignment. Please let me know if you have experience with T-Graphic designs.

Hey folks!
I am spray painting a bike for the first time. I finished priming the frame with Montana Gold Metal primer.
When it dried and I took it down I realized I missed two small sections (1inch by 1inch ish) and had poor coverage in another.
Is it okay if I cover those spots with rustoleum? It's the only paint accessible in my area without having to wait 3 weeks for an online order to come in.
Plan would be to lightly sand it all after to smoothen it out before continuing with color (Montana Gold paints).
Thank you guys!

So I have to confess, sorry.
I knew the minute I saw 1999 video back 83 (ish) seeing a Dr on the keyboard, two super 🔥 women seductively also playing keyboard and this cool lad in lace and heels singing I knew this was for me
I was probably 10-11 yrs old.
I knew when I saw Purple Rain on VHS in 85 and saw the powder, paint and performance I felt this was TOTALLY my thing .. (Apollonia in Lake Minnetonka did me NO harm either)
Then every album, the psychedelic beauty of around the world in a day, the Parisian decadence of Parade, the grandness and audacity of Sign o the Times , the mystery of the Black Album, the beauty and horny LoveSexy
Then ... Batman I really liked, as I did the film.
1990 Prince was my FIRST gig Wembley Arena London (I saw INXS soon after)
By now I'm 17/18 , it's rave culture in England and times were a changing
I hated Graffiti Bridge seemed like Purple Rain II but without ANY of the wow or charm.
Diamonds and Pearls had moments, the hits were great (and one night I picked up a hot blonde from the club and we fucked to Gett Off, Prince would have approved she REALLY was a little red Corvette)
Suddenly I was out of touch with this man whose lyrics taught me about love, lusting, fucking and heartbreak
I was growing up and growing out.
The revolution was long gone, so it seemed was the sound of my taste.
Sexy MF seemed like he was trying too hard and I really hated My Names is Prince
All that Slave stuff did nothing for me.
There were moments again, but they were brief.
My 80s love for Prince (and the Revolution) was SO huge that I suppose it had to burn out, a mate of mine said same you could NEVER sustain that output and the nostalgia and the sound sit hand in hand
Eveey time a review said his best album in 30 years I sheeled out hoping to recreate them times and feelings, it never did, I list 3121 as an example at hand.
So please don't hate me, I sobbed buckets when he died.
In the 1980s I had all the vinyl, the US imports in the London record shops , I have recently shelled out huge money on the 1999 and Sign OTimes box sets , worth every penny.
But my love for Prince may only be momemty in his musical career but my god it was never bettered.

[Request] Graphic Design Ultimate Frisbee Jersey
Please do submit link to portfolio.
Budget target 125
Budget range 75 - 150.
If budget doesn't fit, propose price and I'll evaluate.
Please DO NOT provide concept art expecting a fee, it is welcome but I feel guilty not paying and cannot pay extra fees.
Not all submissions/portfolios will be responded to.
I may take a day or two to review and respond to portfolios.
Goals/Needs/Design/Desires:

1. Graffiti Feel, mild anime or cartoonish OK.

• Is not Anime
  
• Is not Cartoon
  
• https://www.wallpaperflare.com/graffiti-letters-font-text-decoration-painted-wall-art-wallpaper-wvltu
  
• Please note the little guy in the image is off style and not desired.
  

1. Funky Vibes with the letters 'RMK' in Simple style, some elements of wild style

• Is Legible and clear
  
• Is not pure wild style
  
• Can have mild retro
  
• Is not strong retro
  
• Urban Feel
  
• Playful Feel
  

1. Orientation

• Consider names will be added to jersey in typical location
  
• Consider number will be added in typical location
  

1. 'Rosy Mound Kids'

• In Baseball lettering - somewhere tasteful.
  
• https://stock.adobe.com/search?k=baseball+font
  

1. Dive catch or otherwise

• https://cdn.ultiworld.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/ClubNats_2016_TNg_0930_3-33-35_PM_1054-ZF-2289-56204-1-001.jpg
  
• https://ih1.redbubble.net/image.477559047.6632/fposter,small,wall_texture,product,750x1000.jpg
  
• Google images ultimate dive catch
  

1. Darker overall color scheme when considering background. Jersey's will be worn inside out for lights vs darks.
   
2. Short Sleeve graphic
   
3. We prefer .AI (Adobe Illustrator), .CDR (Corel Draw) and .PSD ( Photoshop) formatted artwork.
   
4. Where we are ordering from.
   

• https://zonesportinggoods.com/pages/how-to-order-ultimate-frisbee-uniforms

A bit about the group; we are a pickup team, not a club team but may eventually be a club team. We are Co-Ed, inclusive and care much more about spirit of the game as a priority. Ultimately, this should have a fun vibe, chill atmosphere, but display a high level of competition (in the feel). It's not cutesy - but it is playful. Open to some creative freedom.
I will review portfolios that seem in alignment. Please let me know if you have experience with T-Graphic designs.

Check out: www.grafflibrary.com! Grafflibrary is a collaborative database for graffiti publications, focused on magazines and books. The database is far from complete so if you like to contribute feel free to get in touch. In addition, when logged in you can also track your own collection online.

Can someone explain to me specifically why this was removed, and how I’d be able to edit it without defeating the purpose of the entire story?
It was removed for breach of the “CORROBORATION/PROOF” rule, though after reviewing those terms, I don’t believe that I’ve broken them.
“A dream, a nightmare, a hallucination, a vision, a bout of sleep paralysis, is drunk and/or high, was in a coma or otherwise an altered state”— none of these are the reason behind my main character’s paranormal experience, and I’ve given no indication whatsoever in the story to suggest that they are.
In fact, I’ve outright denied the idea that my main character imagined her experience about as much as I possibly could for a story with a first person perspective.
The main character says “it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream,” in the second paragraph— a sentiment which she consistently attests to throughout the story, and a sentiment which is never walked back on or brought into question by the narrator.
My narrator was in a sound state of mind at the moment of her encounter, and is practical and methodical in her investigation of what happened. Any implication that she has become mentally unwell occurs long after the inciting incident which the story is built around.
I would like to respectfully request that this story be reevaluated. In the short time that it was active on nosleep, it clearly connected with people. If it cannot stand as is, then I need someone to help me make it fit the guidelines without defeating the entire purpose of the story and betraying its themes.
The nosleep subreddit is filled to the brim with stories in which the narrator’s words are taken at face value. When a narrator in a different story says “I walked to the store,” it’s not like the author HAS to give tactile, irrefutable evidence that the narrator actually walked to the store. The audience simply accepts that the narrator walked to the store. This concept of innate credibility is the bedrock upon which my entire story is built.
I do not believe my work would benefit from being altered to fit these guidelines as rigidly as possible, nor do I think that is a fair standard to hold it to. In fact, if I were to change the contents of my story in such a way, the themes which set it apart from others like it would be lost.
In short, I do not understand why my story was deleted, I do not know how to alter it to fit the guidelines beyond any shadow of a doubt without destroying its central purpose, and I refuse to believe that nosleep is not the right place for this work. I implore you to reconsider my submission, or to at least work with me to find a solution which keeps the story’s themes intact.
Here is my story:
I got grabbed
Last night, when I was home alone, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.
Nobody was there to see it, and nobody that I’ve told believes me, but it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream.
I was watching TV when it happened. The remote fell under the couch and I started fishing around for it without really looking, not wanting to get up from my seat. I brushed it with the tips of my fingers and it slid further underneath.
I was super annoyed— I had to get down on my knees to reach it. I finally found the remote, and that’s when it grabbed me.
As I pulled the remote out into the light, a hand shot up from under the couch and wrapped its fingers around my wrist.
I was able to yank myself away quickly. It didn’t hold on tight— just enough that I felt a little resistance. I jumped to my feet, obviously terrified.
I didn’t scream or anything. I was honestly too scared to even make a sound. My heart was beating so fast that my ears started to ring. The TV was still going, commercials droning on while I tried to process what had just happened.
The hand had only come out about a foot from under the couch. It had an arm attached to it, though I wasn’t able to see past its elbow, and it slinked back below the couch as soon as I pulled myself free from its grasp.
It didn’t hurt, and it didn’t leave any sort of bruise or mark or anything on my wrist, but I definitely felt it, and I definitely saw it.
All I could do was stare at the spot where the hand had appeared. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps right outside my front door.
I live in a second-story apartment. It’s a pretty cramped place and a pretty old building, so whenever someone comes over I can usually hear footsteps from the moment they enter the building downstairs.
I guess I was so freaked out by the hand that I didn’t even notice someone was outside until they were already opening the door.
My roommate walked in on quite a scene. She immediately registered how off the vibe was. I could see it on her face.
She found me standing upright in the middle of our living room, TV remote in hand, facing away from the screen while Full House’s laugh track filled the air. I’m sure I’d think it was odd too.
“Hey…” she said, shifting a paper bag full of groceries in her arm while she pocketed her keys, “You good?”
I felt like I was caught with my pants down, but just seeing a familiar face brought some of the blood back to my fingers.
“N—yeah,” I stuttered. I came back online, and flicked the TV off.
I felt her eyes on me as she walked over to the kitchen. There’s no wall or anything dividing the two rooms. Like I said, the place is pretty cramped.
She started putting her groceries away as if everything was normal, but I could tell she wanted to ask what was up.
I kept looking back and forth between her and the couch. I can’t explain it, but I already knew that if I looked under there, I wouldn’t find any trace of whoever (or whatever) grabbed me.
As she started loading up the fridge, I dropped to my hands and knees once again. Without taking even a second to ready myself, I brought my head down to the ground and looked under the couch.
Nothing.
Pretty much what I expected. There was barely enough room for me to squeeze my arm under there for the remote. No way a whole person could fit beneath that thing, and even if they could, there’s no way I wouldn’t have seen them or heard them or something before they grabbed me.
“Seriously, what’s up?”
I looked up to see my roommate standing right behind me, arms crossed, clearly concerned.
I knew I was acting strange, and I knew that nothing I would come up with in the next five seconds could possibly excuse my behavior. I made a judgement call, honestly not really caring about how it would be received.
“I uh… something grabbed me earlier.”
“What?”
“Under the couch. I dropped the remote, and when I picked it up, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.”
Took her a second to respond.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s it. A hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. It happened like a minute before you got here.”
That part might have been a lie. I actually have no idea how long I had been standing in the middle of the room before she showed up.
“Wait so like someone broke in?”
“No. It’s just like I said. A hand reached out, grabbed me, and then it was gone.”
She just kinda looked at me for a while. I don’t blame her, but it’s not like there was any way for me to sugarcoat it.
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘am I sure?’ Yes, yes I’m fucking sure!”
My voice broke a little when I said that. I was still down on my knees, like I was praying for her to believe me.
“Okay well obviously that didn’t happen Sam.”I let out a desperate laugh and threw my hands up in the air. I slapped them down on my thighs dramatically and shook my head in exasperation.
“Yeah obviously it sounds fucking crazy but you asked what happened and that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m just being honest.”
I pulled myself up to my feet and walked around to the armrest of the couch. She kept studying me, probably thinking this was all a prank or something.
“What are you doing?” She asked, arms still glued across her chest.
“I’m checking under the couch.”
I pushed one end of the couch away from the wall. It was pretty heavy, and the coffee table stopped me from moving it too far. I dragged the coffee table towards the TV to free up some space.
My roommate started staring at the spot I was clearing as if she expected to see something there too.
I went back over to the armrest.
“Can you help me?”
She snapped out of her trance and silently went to grab the other side. We pulled the couch away from the wall, revealing a thick rectangle of dust that had not seen the light of day since we moved in a year ago.
I dropped to my knees once more and began wiping away the grime with my bare hands. There was nothing but the floorboards beneath it. No surprise.
I sat there for a second, eyes darting around the floor. No fingerprints in the dust, no scratches or marks or anything. I felt the tension in the room dissipate as my roommate found her voice again.
“I think you must have imagined it.”
I didn’t. There’s no way.
“Dude, no. I felt it and I saw it. Clear as day. It was a hand, and it grabbed me. That’s not the sort of thing you can just imagine.”
She scoffed, any fear left in her giving way to frustration.
“Whatever. This is fucking stupid. I’m going to bed.”
She stomped off towards her room.
“Wait.”
She spun on her heels as I stood up, probably expecting me to tell her I was joking about the whole thing.
“Can you help me flip the couch over?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Sure. But I’m not helping you put it back.”
She helped me lift the couch off of its legs and tilt it onto its front cushions, exposing the fabric underneath. She disappeared into her room and I went to work studying the underside of the sofa.
There was a zipper lining the bottom, but I found nothing inside when I opened it up. Just a hollow wooden frame and a bunch of crumbs.
I sat back against the wall, more tired than scared at that point.
I can’t believe she thinks I’m making this up. Why would I even do that? What purpose would it serve?
As I solemnly went about rebuilding our living room, I decided that the next day (today) I was gonna take off work, wait for her to leave, and really get to the bottom of this.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every nook and cranny of my room felt like a door left wide open, with something sinister waiting on the other side.
What if the hand comes back? What if it wants to hurt me next time? How can I even protect myself?
After like ten restless minutes in bed, I decided to move to the floor. I couldn’t help it. I kept imagining the hand reaching up from under the bed and grabbing me again.
I made a makeshift sleeping bag out of my comforter and some pillows, and I laid on my side so I could keep an eye on the underside of my bedframe while I slept. Maybe “slept” isn’t the right word. Even down there, I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes for longer than a minute.
Eventually sunlight began to peek through the blinds, and I heard some movement within the apartment. My roommate was finally up. I heard the front door close, and it was time to get to work.
I nearly threw my back out yanking the couch away from the wall to reveal the floorboards underneath. They aren’t real floorboards, just the kind of cheap-o fake shit they put in crappy houses to make them look more modern. Our whole apartment is like that— a thin coat of paint slapped over an old building from the 40s or whatever.
My dad actually owns this building. He lets me and my roommate stay here as long as we pay him $500 a month, which is way cheaper than most places in my area.
It’s not really an apartment building to be honest. You can tell it used to be a family home before some realtor swooped in and broke it up into apartments. There are a lot of those around here.
Anyway, the fake wood came up easy. It was only about a quarter inch thick. I was able to pull up the first plank by hammering a kitchen knife into a slit between the boards, and then I peeled a few more away by hand.
After prying away about a dozen of these fake floorboards, I started to realize that I wasn’t going to find anything without making a significantly larger dent. Right beneath the thin layer of fake wood was a layer of very real, very thick wooden beams that seemed to span well beyond the hole I had managed to claw open.
My back crackled and popped as I sat back on my heels to admire my handiwork and contemplate where to go from there. I knew I would need a power saw or some kind of heavy duty tool to get any deeper, but I was afraid of two things:

1. That these beams were supporting the entire second floor of the building, and cutting through them would make the whole thing collapse
2. That going any deeper would lead me into the ceiling of the apartment below us, and whoever lives there would call my dad before I could see what I needed to see.

Regardless of the risks, I knew I had to keep going. I was certain that something was down there. Whatever grabbed me had to have left some sort of evidence.
I can’t stop thinking about that fucking hand.
I’m not supposed to have it, but my dad gave me a master key for the whole building in case of emergencies. He could really get in trouble if anyone found out, but if this isn’t an emergency then idk what is.
There’s a service shed around the back of the building, which has seen none of the love that the main building saw when it was renovated. Decades worth of rusty antiques and rotting furniture line the walls. A shiny, modern tool bench sits unnaturally in the middle of the chaos.
I rifled through all of that shit as fast as I could. I’m not really close with my dad all things considered, and I’m sure he’d be super pissed if he found me out there. He’s so secretive about random shit all the time, and he’s constantly dropping by the building unannounced.
I found the jigsaw under a pile of old newspapers and ran back upstairs.
I probably should have checked the driveway to see if anyone was home first, because the saw made so much noise. The cord barely reached from the outlet to the spot where the couch used to be, but as awkward as the angle was, I was still able to get it in there.
I went as small as possible with my first few cuts. I started with a single beam, cutting out a section about 6x6 inches wide. I slid the chunk of wood out, and, to my relief, didn’t immediately see the plaster that would be my downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.
A tuft of insulation stuck out where I made the hole. I didn’t know that stuff is made from fiberglass or whatever, and I got a really bad splinter when I went to yank it out.
I fished some leather gloves out of my roommate’s closet and got to work on the insulation. I pulled and pulled but couldn’t get a good enough grip to remove anything more than a few bits about the size of a tennis ball.
I went back in with the jigsaw, cutting bigger and bigger chunks until I had cleared a hole about two feet in diameter.
No sign that I was gonna bring the building down, that’s good.
I hacked away for hours. More wood came up, more insulation came up, and when I finally hit a fragile-looking layer of drywall, I knew the jig was up. That’s definitely my neighbor’s ceiling. Fuck.
My roommate and I got in a screaming match when she got home. I made a pretty big mess but I don’t really give a fuck honestly.
I don’t give a fuck if she believes me. I fucking hate that bitch. I told her if she tells my dad what I’m doing, I’ll bash her brains in with the hammer. That shut her up. She left with a bag full of her clothes like an hour later.
Tomorrow I’m going to wait for our downstairs neighbor to leave and start investigating from the bottom-up. If there wasn’t any evidence on the floor up here, there HAS to be something on the ceiling down there.
If I do find something, I’ll post again. I doubt anyone will even believe me, but at this point I just want everything written down somewhere accessible in case something bad happens.
There has to be something down there. Something grabbed me. And I’m going to find out what it is.

Hello, We have a big area of bare concrete block in our backyard. Instead of getting it painted one color (boring), we were thinking of hiring a graffiti artist to create a mural. Any recommendations?

Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal

TL;DR I'm looking for a job, and I'm not hiring
Hello! I am a freelance virtual assistant from the Philippines that specializes on non-voice admin assistant task and basic video editing offering my services. I'll be willing to encode your documents, do web research, convert your documents, and edit your videos while you're busy doing your primary tasks.
I'm also open to any repetitive computer related tasks/s, but preferably non-voice.
CV provided upon request.
Video Editing Portfolio: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1A_648tQacTJQ-sQ6TW_iaAd3P7SsWXtT?usp=sharing
Prior experiences:

• Data Encoding
• Files and Schedules Organization
• Payroll Computation
• Video Editing (Subtitles, Educational, J and L Cut)
• Creating Time Sheets
• Web Research
• Online Inventory
• Mediawiki Based Website Basic Editing

Skills:

• Video Editing (Slideshows, Educational, Subtitles, Motion Tracking)
• Document Editing (Adobe Acrobat, MS Office, Google Docs Editors)
• Data Conversion
• Web Research
• 90 WPM Typing Speed
• Basic photo editing (MS Paint and Photoshop)

Open for: Full Time, Part Time, and One-time Project
Rate: $10/hour
Preferred Mode of Payment: Paypal