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PostPosted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 6:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good job, Nilly, except I can see where you start getting tired because the story loses it's descriptive feel. The only discrepancy I could spot was when you accidently changed Vegas--which is my homeland, ironically--into "L.A." Though El Armpitto and Sin City are alike, they're not that alike. Wink Just for future references.

Golly, I haven't been here in such a long time. I feel old. Sad

Well...Here goes nothing.

This shall be a continuation of "Father I Have Sinned." Remember that one? Yah. I feel like continuing it. Doesn't help that I'm listen to Gregorian chants, either.
Silence. Awful, webbed and sticky silence.

"Repeat--" the Father said from the other side of the screen, voice faltering, "what you just said, my son. And do it slowly."

Frank glanced down at his hands, which, rough and gnarly, were grabbing at each other, trying to strangle, kill and maim, and then glanced up. He knew he was shaking. He knew his body was going into fits. And he tried to stop it.

Nothing worked.

"Father..." Frank choked out, voice shuddering. "I've--I've sinned. I killed my own son."

Frank knew that the man behind the screen jerked unsteadily, as though contemplating flying the confessional booth and searching out authorities. Quietly he prayed to the Lord above to listen--or at least momentarily.

"Why," the Father said from behind the netting, very quietly and in a rather shocked monotone, "have you committed this horrible act against your blood and flesh?"

Frank's mouth opened suddenly, as though he had a retort, but then he shut it, and blinked, vivid blue eyes slowly being dimmed by the skin above them, before the eyelids flew open, and Frank once again opened his mouth. As he spoke his voice rose an octave.

"Why, Father?" Frank gave a nervous, shuddering laugh. "It's funny that you should ask that..."

"There are somethings that cannot be fixed, Mr. Crowley. I believe this is one of those things."

Frank clutched at the phone in his hand, feeling his palms getting sweated and the earpiece jamming painfully into his hearing canal.

"Why--why are you doing this?"

"Because a long time ago, I asked you for something and never, ever, ever gave it to me."

Frank paused, and suddenly it occured to him--that--that he knew this voice.

"Who are you?"

"I'm someone, Frank, who has your wife. And you know what I'm going to do to your wife?"

Frank knew what was coming. He closed his eyes tightly and pursed his lips in an effort not to scream.

"I'm going to kill her, Mr. Crowley. I'm going to kill your wife, and then I'm going to kill you."

From outside the glass phonebooth, seagulls, the goddamn rats with wings, slowly marched down the Matterson's Dock, orange feet flying ridiculously to the left and the right as they sought o prove their superiority above all animals, including humans. One broke away from the group, heading towards one fisherman and his net. The man looked down and scowled, pausing momentarily before lashing out with a steel-toed boot and striking the parasite firmly in the chest. It squawked, ego sorely bruised, and jumped back five steps, quickly assimilating back into it's amobea of comrades and moving away from the bird kicker. Frank watched the entire scene with a dead look in his eyes, somehow feeling like he was more or less that damn bird that just got kicked, before the voice--Death--came back through the phone.

"You don't seem to be listening, Mr. Crowley. Perhaps I can announciate. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Your. Wife." Beat. "And when I'm done with that, you. And then your son."

Frank didn't know what happened--it was as though he was possessed, but suddenly he found himself screaming into the phone.

"I have no fucking son, you sick prick. You understand that?!?! You bring that...that...Name, up one more time and I swear to god I am going to fucking kill you. I'll kill you, anyone I see with you and maybe your mother. You understand that?"

Frank pulled himself away from the phone, ripping the receiver away from his mouth and shaking in outright fear and rage. His hands began to tapdance on the phonebox and with the phone itself. Breathing was ragged--shallow and barely there. He had no idea what happened.

And it scared the shit out of him.

The voice was silent considerably longer than what was expected. Then, it began to speak, though this time the words seemed quieter, less cocky.

"...I'm not quite sure, Mr. Crowley, if you understand me. If you kill my mother...You'll be killing your wife."

The phone abruptly slipped out of Frank's hand and he felt himself grasping, like a drowning man seraching for a buoy amid a storm he knows he cannot defeat, at the glass around him, fingers slipping and prints etched like claws about the entire, clear structure. He felt himself slowly go down, down, down, to the filthy floor of the booth, curling his knees to him in a child-like gesture and shaking his head adamantly, trying to fight the demons that fought to break though his memory. Break through to him. The voice continued to emanate from the line. Though he didn't know why, Frank reached for phone, slowly bringing it back to his ear and waiting. Waiting with eyes skittering to and fro and hands shaking helplessly.

"And you don't want Castina to die, do you?" the voice said, as though KNOWING that Frank was there again, KNOWING that he was shaking, shuddering.

"Do you, Frank?"

Frank's mouth opened. His lungs seized up. The eyes dilated, becoming almost fully black, and adrenaline, a hot needle of adrenaline, pierced his system.


Eh. Not the best. I feel so...bleh.

Oui? Non? How as it?
What does it all MEAN?
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 03, 2006 5:18 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

It gives more insight into the story. I could see Frank; smell the sea air and the smell of the cathedral. And you misspelled 'ennunciate'.

>>; I was hard pressed on time with that thing, so I had to hurry up and summarize everything...
Repairing the final couple paragraphs of mine. Song by Within Temptation; song is Forsaken. Well, the last one was Ice Queen.

Miya sat up, rubbing her cat-like ears where her human ears were supposed to be, and yawned widely, four of the teeth in her mouth glinting at their steely, sharp points. Her emerald eyes blinked as she looked around, and she looked at her corset, which was undone in the back. She looked at the form beside her and shook her head; another guy who had tried to use her in her sleep.

Putting a charmed bracelet on her wrist to hide her black ears and tail, she crawled off the bed and escaped into the alleyways, and eventually found her twin sister, Georgie, who was as fair and sunny and optimistic as Miya was dark and moonlight and pessimistic. Georgie looked up from her book, 'A Tale of Two Cities', and said in her happy, laughing voice, "Where were you?"

"No where special." She sat down next to her sister, who let her rest her head on her shoulder, and said, "Could you read to me some more? I really like this book, and I hate not being able to read."

"Sure, Ya-Ya." Georgie pulled her reading glasses out of her pocket and put them on, blinking her ocean blue eyes.

"Alright, Gee-Gee, stop it."

Georgie giggled, and flipped to the page she'd left off on when she was reading to Miya the day before. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."

Miya was always asleep at the end of that statement, her breath waving past her sister's golden hair.

Now the day has come
We are forsaken this time

Anything had to be better than living as a monster who had no control over her werecat side, a person whose scars reflected her inner self.

Lee, a boy her own age who had been trapped between his werewolf form and his human form, climbed up to the outlet and sat by her, shivering from the cold. "We need you back at the house. Things're okay between Destiny and David now."

"I don't care. I am not going back, ever." She hugged her knees tighter and hid her face in her paling-from-the-cold forearms, trying not to cry in front of him. He pulled his jacket off and rested it around her shoulders, not caring that he'd probably get sick. Miya'd been out there for heaven knows how long, and could've caught pnuemonia by now.

He picked her up, carrying her on his back, and he slid down the sloping side of the dam, skidding to a stop and jumping off the broken debris at the bottom. When he looked down from the bridge overlooking the dried up river, Miya hid her face in the back of his water-soaked red shirt, shivering both from the cold and her great fear of heights. He tightened his grip on her lower legs, which were bent around his waist, and jumped.

We lived our lives in our paradise,
As gods we shaped the world around
No borderlines we'd stay behind,
Though balance is something fragile

As they fell the great distance to the rocky bottom of the long-dried river, Lee whistled sharply, the sound echoing through the forests surrounding the old building. A large gray wolf darted suddenly out of the tall trees and grabbed the front of Lee's shirt in mid-jump, tearing the thin, water-logged fabric, and it landed safely on the other side of the river. Miya tightened her arms around Lee's neck when he stumbled upon being set down and then fell over onto his side. The wolf nuzzled them with its overly-large muzzle before running back into the grand trees.

Miya let go of his neck, crawling away a little, and looked at her feet. Her feet-length skirt had been torn to past her knees by one of the wolf's gargantuan claws, and the old scars she had were visible. She was grateful that it was dark enough out that he wouldn't be able to see them. Or, at least she hoped they wouldn't be.

He sat up, wincing as a scratch on his chest from one of the wolf's teeth stung sharply without warning, and stood, using fire to sear his shirt shut and dry it off. He held a hand to Miya, to help her stand up, but she stood up on her own, pulling her skirt down a little to hide as much as she could of her long legs.

"I'll go back." Her voice was soft, barely audible. She didn't face him.

While we thought we were gaining,
We would turn back the tide, it still slips away
Our time has run out, our future has died,
There's no more escape

Sighing, he turned around and said, "Come on..." When she didn't move, he grabbed her fully-gloved hand and led her through the slowly lightening forest, the shadows casting eerie shapes on the grassy ground. She kept her emerald gaze downcast, unable to look at him, and she closed her eyes, blocking away tears again.

Would the Night World ever be at peace, and would she ever avenge her loved ones?

Now the day has come
The day has come
The day has come...


I completely changed it somewhat, and I shortened the song to suit it.
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 9:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

(HEY! Free writing is back, awesome!)

Great story. I'm a bit to lazy to be hasseled with reading the first few paragraphs you so kindly submitted for us to see *lazy me* But I can tell you, you've got good writing skills (alebiet, a bit stereotypical, but good nonetheless). It's kinda odd though how quickly you go from her sister reading, to Miya reluctantly going back. Maybe you should add a bridge in bewteen.

Yay, my turn! Here's the first chapter from a story I'm working on. (ok, first few paragraph, but why nitpick)
"You must already know," said the dream voice, "This world is tied to your destiny."

Serria sighed, it was this dream again. The young sophmore girl stared blankly at the chair in front of her. Someone was sitting in it, the girl, whose name she couldn't remember. And the man in front of the chair, standing near the fire, whose face she couldn't remember. She had tried to catch a glimpses of them, but they never revealed themselves, and the dream had grown so repetetive, that she soon gave up. The scenery began to change. Serria knew what would happen next, the dream was always the same. A blank white room, a single mirror right smack in the middle. She looked into the mirror, and instead of her reflection, there was the girl whose name she couldn't remember. It was scary in the way it could've been just a reflection. Serria had light red har, She had light red hair. Serria had hazel eyes, She had hazel eyes, but she was always crying, and the image was blurry, like a picture that was out of focus. Their face was the same, and so were thier clothes, but She always wore that necklace.

The apparatic image in the mirror opened her mouth again, as always, but no sound came out. Serria shook her head and closed her eyes, getting ready to wake up. What she didn't expect was to hear Her voice ringing as the dream faded.

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PostPosted: Sat Jun 10, 2006 1:25 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

A bit confusing at points, Rita. (It is Rita, right?) But otherwise, it had me inrtested, and I'd like to find out more. Wink

The ship came down with a loud thud, rocking the caves directly beneath. From within, a unit of red guards, all wearing armoured enviro-suits, moved down the hatch that folded out for them. They marched in perfect order, faces straight ahead, looking around only with their eye.

A man stood, waiting for them. He too, wore an enviro-suit, but it was a standard orange, and not armoured like the guards. He fidgetted with the pipes feeding him oxygen, not wanting to meet the peircing gaze of the unit captain. The captain had a pistol raised, loaded, and ready to fire.

As the captain met the fidgetting man, he held up a hand, to which the unit stopped. He advanced, saying "By order of 3rd Earth, we are to advise you, Commander Zak Turner, to hand yourselves in and to work for 3rd earth in the mining shafts"

"But..." Zak started saying, looking straight up. He hadn't expected that.

"But" The captain started, a smirk playing his lips, "I can do something to help you"

Zak began to splutter, then managed to stutter "What then, Krasser?"

The captain, identified as Krasser flicked his hand and all 30 guns whirred, as their zero aiming lights focused on Zak's chest.

"No!" Zak Cried, "No! You can't!" And scrambled away, towards the station, but 30 guns cracked, and reloaded. None delivered another shot, because all had hit. "Zak Turner, Commander of Outpost X57, Deceased" Captain Krasser murmered, grinning. "Now come..." He motioned a forwards movement, walking forwards, "...We have some slaves to capture"


Dexter Webb awoke with the rest of the station as thrity gun shotscracked accross their eardrums. He was out from his stone bunk in a flash, landing in a heao on the floor. Being on the top bunk required a ladder, and jumping onto the metal floor was neither clever nor healthy. He arose slwoly, with the help of his fellow miner Kerry Jacks. "Alright Dex'?" She asked, as he gingerly tested his foot.

"I'm cool" he muttered, Moving to the door, and grabbing his over-clothes. He was currently clothed in a tight grey shirt, with short grey boxers. Bland but useful. The weather wasn't very kind on Mars. "Come on" He said, Chucking Kerry her own clothes. "Lets check this out"

But they didn't get much farther than down the corridor, when they were met by armed guards, and officially ordered into slavery on pain of death. Though they struggled, they were launched into the 'slaves quarters', formerly the the equipment room. but now all equipment was left down the mine, as vigurous night shifts began, along with long day hours. Worst of all, they were suddenly treated like scum, as more and more guards were poured into this huge mining project.

Slaves were imported from other planets, and the mine complex grew. Still they collected ore for a number of months until they began to question as to why this was happening. They assumed it was a change in govourment, but had no idea, and the guards only hit them with their gun barrels if they questioned them, then shipped you off to solitary confinment.

Then, While Dexter was down the mine shafts, a man hit out at a guard. It was Michael, who had been pushed to far. He knocked the guard backwards, pullnig his guna way and shooting the armour at the neck. The bullet penetrated, and a trickle of blood leaked from within. Then he turned on the guard chasing up behind him, and killed him with the same style fo shooting.

"Take this and follow my lead" Michael bellowed, beckoning for the other slaves to follow him, and chucking a gun to Dexter. Dexter held the gun tentertively, then slung it voer his back, and took off after Michael. "Today we rebel!" Michael yelled, knocking a guard down and lobing the gun nito the crowd.

After a matter of minutes, the mine was emptied of guards, and the doors closed. Oxygen would always run through it, it was default. They were safe, and had supplies enought to last them a couple of weeks. It was too perfect.

Michael took on role as leader, but never shutup about it had been he who had shot down all those guards. He became unbearble, constantly reminding thm of it. Suddenly, The slaves decided this was not good enough, throwing him off the leader's position, and looking about for a leader. Someone intelligent enough, but knew enough of the area. Some looked to Kerry, their Head Engineer, others to Michael once again, saying it was he who had won them freedom. But people argued back that Dexter, of all people, Should lead, himself a scientist. "He knows what we need from him" One said, and it was decided.

He was reluctant, and slowly the slaves fell into two factions. Those loyal to Michael, and those loyal to Dexter. Michael laid blows here and there, stealing food and kidnapping priosners, treating this as a war. But then, Dexter's plan came through, and the slaves escaped to the surface. Mars had a vague atmosphere, and was able to support them for a few hours. They charged into the base, taking enviro-suits, then reutrning to the mine. Hit and Run was the plan. But it wasn't going to work that easily.

As Dexter retreated to the badlands, Krasser followed, and a constant battle of sniping and open warfare began, not to end until Krasser either died or Dexter was killed. Funny how Dexter was there fighting and Krasser was not. Of course, Krasser had known nothing of Michael, whom Dexter had suddenly adopted as second-in-command.


"What!?" Screamed Krasser, slamming his ahnds to the table. "God almighty!"

"We're S-s-orr-!" A gun shot echoed accross to the guard, who flopped dead.

"He is retreating, yet he was not meant to!"

Another person tried to put in a peice of advice but suffered another gun shot. Krasser was a little too trigger-happy these days.

"Retreating sir."

"I know that!" Krasser bellowed, turning to his fellows. "But at the rate hes going, some one will find out, the govourment even!"

"Sir, we can always just drop a..."

"...Too obvious" Krasser hissed. "We must be discreat in this." Suddenly a grin spread over his face. "And I have the perfect plan.
I came
I saw
I ripped over a damn rock.
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 12, 2006 7:16 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

(yes, it's Rita. Razz My username's kinda unweildy to say, or write.)
Shocked Interesting...
Well, I can't say I'm well aquainted with sci-fi (I'm more of a fantasy person) but this is really well done, gramatically and spelling-wise. I didn't really have much interest (once agina, fantasy person) but don't take me wrong, it's a wonderful story that's compelling and I'm sure many people would like to read it.
My turn again. ^_^ Back to my story, I have the beginning parapgraph done, and the ending paragraph done (yes, I decide the ending before I write all the middle parts, weird huh?) So here's the ending paragraph. I won't tell you what I have planned for the middle, see if you can figure it out for youself. Wink

Serria looked at her sorroundings in amazement. The temple was even grander from the inside, and the outside was no laughing matter.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, awestruck. The tall, arching columns were adorned withe floral designs from the bottom to top, each one different. She saw a grapevine, and a rose, and a morning glory as well. The floor was a peach colored marble, polished so clearly she could've used it as a mirror. Around them, the walls were adorned with mineral and gems that had been inlaid into them. Shining above them was the ceiling, with odd, ghostly lights floating around. Serria squinted to try and make out what they were, but each time she focused on one, it blurred out of sight.

"Werelights." Nathan explained, noting her facination. Serria nodded, still mute in wonder as she reached out to grab one of the floating lights. Her hand passed right through it, though the light itself felt oddly cold. TUrning her attention back to the altar, she saw the masterpeice of the temple. A twelve foot mirror, surrounded with gold and silver and precious gems. She walked up to it, but someone's hand held her back.

"Wait," Twilight said. Serria looked down at the girl who had once haunted her dreams.

"Serria, do you remember now?" She asked, looking perplexed and worried. Serria paused, calculating, and decided to tell the truth.

"Yes, at least I think so. I remember...an island. There was Nathan, Alan, and I...and another girl there too. For the longest time I couldn't remember her name or who see was, but it felt like..." she paused, trying to find the right words, "It felt like I knew her, from a long time ago. That girl... was you, wasn't it?

Twilight winced, as if she had been struck physically. "As I feared, the spell's worn off." Serria felt something stir inside her, hurt, sorrow, and...resentment.

"Why didn't you tell me you were still alive?!" She demanded in a rage, "I remember, we used to be best friends...you..." her voice faded back into a whisper as Serria looked down, "You promised you would come back, that night you left. You promised that we'd never forget each other."

"But we didn't, did we?" She asked with a smile. Serria glanced up at Twilight's face. "You finally do remember me. But, you remember why I left, right?" The smile faded.

"Yeah," Serria muttered, not wanting to face the truth. Twilight looked at her, studying her face for a while, before pulling her up to the mirror. Serria glanced at it, there was a picture inside the mirror. A picture of an island, her home.

"It's time for you three to go home." Twilight said sadly, "And...time for you to forget about me." Before the words were even finished, Serria wrenched herself from Twilight's grip and whirled to face her.

"How...how can you say that?!" She demanded, "I just...I finally remember my best friend, and now I have to forget about her?" She lowered her voice, pleading, "Why can't you just let us help you?" Twilight smiled sadly and pushed her into the mirror with an amazing amount of force. Caught by surprise, Serria staggered backwards, into the mirror and a blinidng light sorrounded her.

"Because, it puts you in danger, and I wouldn't be able to live it down if something happened to you. Goodbye...Serria. Goodbye, my friend."

Whew, that was pretty long. I have one more paragraph actually, so technically this is the second to last paragraph. Razz
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 18, 2006 5:26 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Beautiful, Rita. Just beautiful.

"What Hurts The Most" is by Rascal Flatts. Pairing? Harry/DRACO. I think I've either gone off the deep end, or I've fallen into a good pairing that might actually work.

Stupid me.

Also, I've never written something like this, so bear with me.

Set between books 6 and 7.


Harry Potter looked out of the window of the Burrow, looking out over the large plains and hills that surrounded the house. The sun had only just started to rise, and he squinted his eyes to look in the shadows caused by the golden light. How long had it been, really? Since... He swallowed, shutting his entrancing green eyes briefly. It was the middle of July now... It had been little more than a month since Dumbledore had been murdered.

His throat tightened, and his lips became a grim, white line as he recalled who had done it. His hated Potions master, Severus Snape, had betrayed Dumbledore's trust for the past sixteen years... sixteen years...

His mind drifted to the other who had been there, the boy with the white-blond hair and icy eyes... Draco Malfoy. His heart wrenched at the memory of how Malfoy had tried to summon the wrongful courage that would take Dumbledore's remaining life away, but it never came.

Instead, Snape had been the one to do that. Avada Kedavra...

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears every now and then and just
Let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in awhile
Even though going on with you gone
Still upsets me
There are days every now and again
I pretend I'm okay
But that's not what gets me

Harry stuffed his head under the pillow, fighting back tears that threatened to fall. The rough material of the pillowcase scratched his face mercilessly, but he didn't care. Anything that would stop him thinking about that beautiful Slytherin... anything that would stop him thinking about Draco was welcome, no matter how painful.

Crookshanks pounced on his stomach, his heavy weight digging his claws into Harry's abdomen, and he hissed, "Crookshanks! Gerroff now!"

The cat only looked at him knowingly, as if to say he knew what was troubling him. Harry sighed, and pushed the cat off.

{{Will finish later. Just ran out of inspiration. x-x}}
Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 18, 2006 4:44 pm    Post subject: Indigo:Genesis Reply with quote

July 7, 2006

Today was an unusually hot day in the New York suburbs.
It reached a temperature near 95 degrees! (Of course, most anythings warm when you live in this frozen tundra of a city)
The weather was not the only unusual thing I saw today, most certainly not!

I went to go visit the Vescpuccis residence (Madison Vescpucci, age 37, Antonio Vescpucci, age 35) although, this time, I would not have to travel out of state to proceed with an Examination. (Once is enough for me)
The Vescpuccis lived in a quaint home in the Rouen Fields area, in Rochester, New York.
Rochester is one of my favorite cities in New York, and I was thrilled to have a chance to go back there. In fact, one of my employees was going to do this Examination, but as soon as I saw where this child (Adamo Vescpucci, age 13) lived, I jumped rather hastily on the case myself.

The taxi dropped me off at Number Three, Johnson Road, and left me on the sidewalk. The Scotts front door was open, yet I knocked anyway.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a black Tee Shirt greeted me with a rude: Hmph.
I stood still, waiting for the large man to permit me into his home, but he obviously thought it was natural for a guest to enter his house uninvited, for he said, in a mobster-Italian dialect: Why aint you commin in already?
I took this as an invitation, and stepped through the Vescpuccis wooden threshold.

The house smelled of strong perfume. The Mrs. must be beauty-conscious. I thought.
Mr. Vescpucci walked off, leaving me alone in his foyer. I stopped, and bent down to tie my shoes, and a =n angry voice sounded through the house: MADDIE! yelled the unmistakable voice of Antonio Vescpucci. THE GUY FROM THAT SCHOOL IS HERE! HOLD ON, TONY, IM COMMIN! she yelled back. I took the assumption that Mr. and Mrs. Vescpucci were nearing the end of their marriage.
Mrs. Vescpucci stomped loudly down the stairs, and punched Antonio in his stomach. I told you I was commin, Tony! She walked over to me, and said in a false happy tone: Mistah Ake-Wend! So glad you could come!
I smiled, and reached out to shake her hand. Ooh! What a gentleman! She glared at Antonio, and then looked back at me.
So, what? Ya wanna see the kid now, or what? That would be nice, Mrs. Vescpucci, thank you. I said, ignoring her atrocious grammar. Oh please, She said, smiling devilishly. Call me Madison. Tony glared at me, evilly. The kids this way. He grunted. I managed to throw a fake smile at Mrs. Vescpucci, before following Mr. Vescpucci into another room.
There was a door at the end of the hall, and Mr. Vescpucci grabbed me roughly about the lapels, pinned me against it, and whispered: You stay away from my wife, ya hear? I gasped for breath, and Mr. Vescpucci slowly released his grip, and cleared his throat. You, ah. Wanted to see Adamo? I took that as an apology, and gasped: please. He opened the door he had so rudely attacked me on. Hes through de door. I didnt look back, and opened the door.
A child without a shirt was lying on a four-poster bed, watching a man break dance on TV. He turned around, looking half angry, and half confused. Whore you? He asked, cautiously. Didnt your parents tell you that I would be arriving to check you out before you could come to the school? He seemed to be thinking. Yeah, I think I do remember them sayin somethin like that. He said, scratching his head. So, are you, like, gonna take me away now? Cuz, like, I didnt pack or nothin. I was starting to think I was wasting my time here, when I could be going out for a night on the town. Rochester. I mused.
Nice room. I joked, in truth; this was one of the weirdest rooms Ive ever been in! There were white skulls crudely painted onto the black background of his walls. Goth. I thought.
He had a bookshelf at least, but the books were scattered around, some even with papers torn out of them.
His bed was poorly made up, with dirty clothes hanging out from under his mattress. Ive seen my share of childrens rooms in the past, but Adamos room was most likely the dirtiest Ive ever seen!
Thanks, He replied, ignoring my sarcasm.
At that point, I had to leave. The child seemed inadequate, and too . . . normal for the academy. But I believe in second chances, so I scheduled a meeting with him at Hon Chis Bistro, at Wilkinson Avenue. Let us hope he does not disappoint

Ars-Scriptus Fanfiction Archive!!!!

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PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 8:17 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

O.o That's interesting. It was a bit confusing, but nice. I couldn't quite get a grasp on what exactly the case was supposed to be about (that's to be expected. I'm S-L-O-W) but it was a rather interesting story.

Hey, for the older members, you guys ought to take the time to go back to like page 4 or 5 or something. We've got some really funny stories back then. ^_^ I was reading them a while ago.

Brain fart, someone else please grace us with your stories while I let my brain rot some more from video games and anime (I love summer!)
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PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 8:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

((Good times, winter. Cramped inside, all we CAN do is write really fun stuff. Man, I miss those times. Maybe I'll continue with Janay the vengeful drug dealer/prosecution attorney story. Yah. Why not...))

What does it all MEAN?
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Elder In Training

Joined: 24 Sep 2004
Posts: 3100
Location: Lala land *hums*

PostPosted: Thu Jun 22, 2006 8:41 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ah, I got sudden inspiration out of one of the animes I'm watching. ^_^

I was under the blanket with a pillow wrapped over my head before a minute had even gone by. Jamie was at it again. The master story teller, the queen of nightmares, the girl with the most horror books ever bought by a single person, and she was telling ghost stories tonight. And she even had background music too!

I whimpered and pulled the pillow over my head even tighter. It wasn't normal for music to sound that creepy or send shiver up your whole body.

"He turned around as someone tapped his shoulder and-" Jamies was going and on and on and I was ready to completely cover my face with a blanket when someone or something tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped off the couch, screaming.

I have never been so embarrased in my whole life...

Yes, Jamie's ghost stories scare me to DEATH. I think the real Hell would look like a green meadow on a sunny day compared to her stories *shudders* yes, I hate ghost stories as well. Just reading R.L. Stine's goosebump series is enough to make me shive and turn on all availabe lights.

This was probably the most embarrasing moment of my life and I'm sharing it with all of you. Ain't I nice?
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PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 10:39 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I've had more embarrassing ones. >>; I wet myself in the middle of a softball game once...

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, Gina, and Hani. Wesker is from Resident Evil, which belongs to Capcom. The tidbit of the song at the end is from "Stand My Ground" by Within Temptation.


A ten-year-old Gina Wesker hugged a small tiger cub close, huddled in a small cell. The tiger cub seemed to be crying, the fur around its shut eyes damp. Gina looked up and out past the bars of the cell door, tears falling down her own face and dripping onto her torn blue jeans. Her dark red velvet tanktop was dirty and browning, the once-soft material becoming stiff and itchy. Her black hair was in a messy bob, the normally bright orange streaks a dull brown.

A man with slicked-back blond hair and black sunglasses and a white lab coat opened the door with a key from a ring of many keys, the sound jingling and somehow merry. The tiger cub curled up around Gina's leg as she jumped up and hugged him, crying into his coat. "Daddy, I'm sorry if I did something bad! I didn't know I wasn't supposed to go into the labs people weren't in!"

He patted her head a bit awkwardly before saying, "You still shouldn't have gone in there, Gina. There are people in here that would use you in experiments and such. You're like a daughter to me, and if they ever did anything to you..."

Gina looked up at him, her bright orange-red eyes wide with fear. "W-What would you do?"

"I don't know, Gina. I really don't know." He picked her up just as two scientists rounded the corner.

"Wesker, sir, is the tiger cub anywhere nearby? We're not done repairing its legs," the one with black hair and a reddish beard said, one hand in a pocket.

"He's not an 'it'! His name is Hani!" snapped Gina, glaring. The other one, who had brown hair and blue eyes, glared right back, her nostrils flared. Gina ducked her head behind Wesker's shoulder, whimpering.

Instead of telling the scientists that he had not seen Hani, he handed Gina to the man, who held her as if she were his daughter. "Make sure she doesn't escape. She's crucial to the plan."

Gina struggled to get out of the man's arms, and said, "Daddy, what's going on?"

Wesker went on as if he hadn't heard her, "And also, take the tiger to a seperate cell. Together, they could cause total destruction to this laboratory." The man and woman nodded, and Wesker walked away, not looking back.

The man set Gina on her feet, but didn't let go of her hand. The woman carried Hani off without even looking at him. Gina pulled and pulled, but it only resulted in the man tightening his grip on her wrist until it hurt. She cried silently as he led her to one of the labs, and the last thing she saw before they put her under an anesthetic was Wesker.

When she awoke, she was sore and back in the cell. She painfully curled up in one corner of the tiny room, sobbing softly into her hands. The backs of her arms hurt whenever she moved them, and her ears felt oddly fuzzy. Her hearing was a little too strong for her liking, and her sight was worse. She ran her hands through her hair, noting her nails were sharper like claws, and she grazed her scalp lightly with them. The smell of the laboratories drifted to her nose, and she cringed; she hated the smell of blood.

"S-Sissy? Are you here?" Hani squeezed through the bars and curled up in her lap, and she hugged him tightly, crying. He nuzzled her with his nose, sniffling slightly. "You look like a batty."

"A wh-what?" She wiped her eyes on her arm and her nose on her shirt.

"A batty." He poked an odd, thin flap of skin on her arm. She looked at it, and started crying again.

"I'm a freak!" She sobbed into her hands again, shaking. Hani licked her nose, and curled up on her legs.

The next day, Gina escaped with Hani in her arms. The whole lab was on fire, and the wings she had were gone too. Her ears were back to normal from the over-sized bat ears. Scientists' screams echoed through the building as the searing flames scorched their skin.

The two scientists ran after them, and Gina skid to a halt. Her normally orange-red eyes were different. Her right eye was completely black, and her left was red-irised with purple being the color of the whites of her eyes. One of the computer terminals lifted and flinged at the woman, catching her in the neck and breaking it. She shot a psychic blast at the man, whose head exploded from the blast's irregular flucuations. She continued running away until she reached a hill overlooking the remains of the lab. Hani was curled up in her arms, shivering with fear and cold. Gina sat under a tree, holding him close to keep him warm. Her eyes reverted back to their normal shade, and she closed them as sleep blacked her mind.

If I don't make it
Someone else will...
Stand my ground

Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.
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Elder In Training

Joined: 24 Sep 2004
Posts: 3100
Location: Lala land *hums*

PostPosted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 9:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Awww, how sad. T_T Man that's the most depressing, yet awesome, and action type story I've read in a while. The poor kid...and tiger, I guess? Anyways, great job, although I've never played resident evil sooo...yeah.

Real life events make rather interesting story-writing peices. ^_^ Here's something else that happened to me
I was bashing the controller in my hand until I was sure it would break. The whole world seemed to speed up at that moment as my character jumped, weaved and slashed at the enemies on the screen. My sweaty palms didn't make it much easier either, and just as the last enemy flashed onto the screen, something hit my hand.

The controller slipped and before I could pick it up, the words flashed across the screen. Oh the worse nightmare of every avid videogame player.


I think my right arm was twitching as I stared at the game in disbelief. I faintly heard the music from the television. Slowly, inch by inch I turned my head at my brother.

"Sorry sis, my ball slipped, can you pick it up for me?" he shouted from across the room. I looked down. There was the culprit, a red, rubber ball that was laying next to my controller. I picked it up, walked over to my brother, and smashed it into his face.

"OUCH!" he shouted, rubbing his face, "What was that for?!" I didn't answer and ran back into a room to grab a pillow and bury my face into it.

"Why didn't I save!!?!!"

After playing 5 hours of KH2 and not saving a single time...T_T
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PostPosted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 1:28 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Owwww... I feel your pain. TT_TT

Nothing to write at the moment.
Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.
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Elder In Training

Joined: 24 Sep 2004
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Location: Lala land *hums*

PostPosted: Sat Jun 24, 2006 5:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

TT_TT I lost like five worlds... In reality I must've chased my brother for twenty minutes then pounded him for about thirty minutes but smashing him in the face with a ball was part of it too. ^_^;

Ok, I''ll go again then. Something very random made up on the spot.
"Lyra!" I shouted, waving at my friend as I ran towards her. She turned around and waved back at me. I grinned, it was always nice to see her. Not only was she the prettiest and cutest girl in the whole school, she was also kind and childish as well. Sometimes I just wanted to hug her and pinch her cheeks. Even though she was already fourteen, I still treated her as if she were ten. You couldn't help it with her. She acted exactly the way a kid would and she kind of looked like one too, with her round face, long brown hair, and wide green eyes.

I slowed to a walk as I neared here. "Hiya Lyrii!" I said again, using my nickname for her, "So what did you think of the new transfer student we got today?" I asked. A guy from England named Alan had transfered into our school that day. It was odd to get a new student halfway through the school year, so it had caused quite a bit of interest across the school. Not to mention the new guy was-

"Totally cute." Lyra answered, "Did you see half the girls in our class. I'm positive that Sarah was about to swoon and faint." she finished, laughing. I joined in the laughter, agreeing that it was rather hilarious.

"What, are you talking about me?" A boy's voice came from behind me.

"AH!" I gave a started and jumped, whirling around. "A-Alan! Uh, well, erm, that is..." I trailed off, flushing with embarrasment. "We were just saying how odd it was to have a transfer student this late in the year. Um, oh yeah, this is Lyra and I'm Azuka." I said, pointing to my friend then myself. Alan stared at me for a second, it was rather uncomfortable to have someone stare at you.

"Isn't that Japanese? You don't look it." he commented. I sighed, it was a common question. My parents were from America, but spent most of their career life in Japan, where I had been born. I explained to him just as the bell rang.

"Ah, looks like it's time for class." Lyra said in regret. I nodded, break was way too short. As I turned to walk back to the building, I noted a group of girls shooting us malicious glares.

"Don't look now," I chuckled at Alan, "But it seems as if you've already got a fanclub." Alan turned to look at the group of girls, who immediately started giggling and disbanded.

He smiled and shrugged in amusement. "Well then, it was nice to meet you guys. My class is on the other side," he said, motioning. I nodded and started to walk past him. Just as my head passed his I heard him say something.

"You really don't know, do you?

Randomness @_@
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 6:59 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ah, but randomness is what soothes the soul.

Both characters are OCs, I own Gina, my friend owns Vazkor.


A young, dark-skinned woman sat up in her bed, rubbing a sore scar on her arm. She'd had it for years from a surgical removal of a mutation she'd developed, but it still hurt once in awhile, the scar did. Sighing, she brushed her orange-streaked black hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ears as she felt an arm snake around her waist, even though she couldn't see it.

"Something wrong, Gina?"

The voice was soft, but she knew it was her boyfriend's voice. Vazkor faded into view, and sat up, holding her close. She rested her head against his pale chest, sighing quietly. "I'm fine, Vaz. Surgery scars're acting up, is all..." He gently kissed the top of her head, and nuzzled her with his nose.

"Are you sure that's all?" When she didn't respond, he sighed and closed his red, slit-irised eyes. They sat in silence for a few minutes, barely daring to breath for fear of ruining the tranquil moment. It was just so... so peaceful...

Gina shifted slightly against him, mumbling something incoherently, and it was obvious she had fallen asleep in his arms. He lay back down with his girl in his arms, running his fingers through the soft strands of her orange-streaked ebony hair. She opened her orangey-red eyes slightly, half awake, and she mumbled, "I was a fool... thought Wesker wouldn't... after Scott... escape..."

"Hm?" He looked down at where she lay against his chest, her dark skin standing out clearly against his pale skin.

"Reason I went to the lab... stand in for Scott because... thought everyone didn't really think much of me... figured I'd do something worthwhile..." She yawned quietly and snuggled up against him. He absently ran a hand through his own black hair, which had emerald green streaks, and sighed. He'd really never understand why she thought that she was worthless...

Short, random, fluffy moment.
Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.
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Very bored

Joined: 12 Aug 2005
Posts: 120

PostPosted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 9:27 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Since uploading a story makes it impossible to read - at least from my PC, I will upload it here instead.
I don't see how this issue is fixed at all - I had problems with all 3 methods up uploading: BBcode deleted all paragraph breaks, the thing that doesn't work on firefox made all but a few words tiny, and uploading a story straight from a word document removed ', " and ... , replacing them with boxes, and also multiplied the number of paragraph breaks by 5.

Does ANYONE else have this problem?

Regardless, here's my short story (sorry it's almost 2000 words, but I wanted to post it on the site, and since I couldn't do that, I at least wanted it to get noticed and read, and this is the only place I can think of for that to happen.)
A White Future

It was cold.
Alyx crawled across a nearby roof, keeping a good on the street no one had yet seen her. She nodded in self confirmation, and continued going. Her soft, yet sturdy, leather boots making no more than a light tap upon the white tiles. No one ever would see her, either. Camouflaged against the sky, against the streets and against the buildings she had been trained to fit in anywhere.
Down below in the white streets, people walked calmly to their homes or to their jobs. They had no other purpose in life. At least, not to those who ruled them. And not to that computer chip embedded in their brains. That same chip which removed all sense of independence, all forms of emotion, and all forms of humanity. They were human in only the physical senses of the word. Their minds were as much human as those who ruled over them.
Alyx was different; her people were different.
At one time, she had been like those down below hopeless drones with no point in existing other than to continue her existence. But she had been extracted, and now she was different. She was more human than she had ever been. And all it had cost her was a finger.
Her smallest finger on her left hand never strayed inward, though. The surgeons had made sure it would never go in unless she needed it to.
Yet that small loss not that it could be called one, the way she saw it was made up for in what she received in return. Given another opportunity, she would lose the finger again, and again, and again. She never looked back.
She didnt feel like smiling; she had a job to do, and she would go through with it. She could smile later, to her friends and colleagues. To those who were free with her. To those who would make a difference in this world.
It was not far before her job would be half done. This was always the easiest part of the job, though. It was the second part that often caught her people out.
Grabbing onto the edge of the building, she swung down onto a balcony hidden from the street within a small alleyway.
She climbed onto the railings then leapt to the opposite wall, grabbing onto the windowsill. And everything without hesitation.
Her white robes rippled in the breeze, and she remained stern against the wall. She was four stories up, but all that frightened her was the thought of getting seen. She knew what happened to those who were caught
Two windows right and a floor down, there was an empty apartment. It would remain so for the next five minutes, until Protection arrived to search it for illegal substances books, paintings, drugsthat sort of thing.
Calmly, she threw herself across the wall. Her hands found the windowsill, and grabbed on automatically.
Again, she did this, grabbing on again. As soon as she was sure that she had a good hold and balance, she pulled her feet up until they were just beneath the window, and let go.
The fall only lasted a moment. Her hands found the ledge quickly, and the rest of her body curved round as she unbalanced it.
Her feet made a quiet, but still too-loud thud as they hit the wall below. She cursed slightly, as she quickly undid the latch on the window, and slipped in.
She closed the window silently, and strode through the apartment her feet leaving no dust or marks in the metal tiles. To think she had lived in a place like this once
The bed to her right had no sheets it was just a mattress on a frame the toilet to her left had no seat, and the sinks only had one tap.
There was a hatch next to the door where those who held dominion over them gave them slop mixtures of everything (and no more than) the body needed for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Alyx came to the door a grayish-blue-white rectangle which matched the color scheme of the rest of the room. There was no door handle. However, at head height was a scanner which checked the readings of the chip in the users brain.
She took a small device from her side and activated it head on with the scanner. It was shaped like a katana, but without the blade, and was white in color, to match and thus blend into, her clothing.
It trembled slightly in her hand as it analyzed the requirements of the machine on the door, and then transmitted them accordingly. Before a moment had past, the door was open.
She strode out, through the hallway, which was of a similar style to the apartment no pictures, that same old color scheme, and metal tiles.
If it werent for the numbers on the doors, it would be impossible to tell where you were, where you were going, and where you had been, as absolutely everything looked the same.
She turned a corner, and came to a door labeled Elevator. To its right was an opening which led to the stairs, and she took them instead. Anything could happen in an elevator. Anything.
The stairs, just like everything else here, made only a soft pitter-patter as she made her way down. Everything else was silent. No voices from other rooms. No children laughing or teenagers playing video games. Not even a man and his wife indulging in loving commune. This was the reason that, whenever one of her people made a sound that they would be singled out and captured. No questions asked.
She strode out into the reception. Two men barged past her both of them dressed in black armored uniform with dark blue rivets around the joints. Their eyes were hidden by violet goggles, and their heads were covered by skin-tight hoods. At their sides were pistols.
Alyx didnt have a pistol she didnt need one, and nor did she want one; they were loud and awkward. What she did have was all she needed.
The two men ran up the stairs, likely to the room she had just been in. These men were Protection. Protection, of course, was just the softer way of calling them Storm Troopers. The only difference was that anyone caught disobeying them was not thrown into a concentration camp, but was sent to a Prison deep in Earths orbit. When they left the Prison, they were completely different people both physically and mentally. And never for the better.
Alyx strode through the streets as she had done many times before. Her target was in the next street. She could hear his voice, passionate and proud, as it passed propaganda to the citizens.
Our newest addition to the system will be the scanners, which will patrol our streets and allow us to rid ourselves of any impure beings far more efficiently Alyx turned the curve in the cobbled road, and saw what could only be described as a one-float parade. Father Reynalds stood by a podium on a diamagnetized platform, which floated soundlessly through the streets at a snails pace. To either side of the streets were lines of citizens, each of them dressed in white. Women wore robes with hoods that hid their faces, men wore suits and glasses. Children were dressed in togas.
On the floating platform, there were about eight members of Protection, all of them sporting assault rifles. The man at the center was dressed in a priests suit, complete with the white collar. His head was open to view. He was a bald man with white skin and bright blue eyes. Just like all the Fathers and Senators of this city. Only the Doctors had any sort of independence, and they were still just the puppets of those who ruled this world those who had taken over all those years ago.
They were not, however, Doctors by any traditional sense; that was simply a title.
Alyx was here, finally. Now she had a job to do, and this was the only chance she had to get this man out in the open.
She made her way through the crowd, unconsciously stroking the stump on her left hand. Just like all the other women, her wrists were separately bound with brown leather straps; this prevented them from hiding anything in their sleeves. The same was said for their legs. However, her wrist notably her left one hid something all the same.
She noted it when she passed by the floating platform, and continued going for a few more paces.
And then the time came.
She pushed her way out of the crowd, and into the road. She leapt onto the front of the platform, shocking the driver. The vehicle jolted.
Before a shot could be fired, she bounced off the closest Protection. Her feet came down on the shoulders of Father Reynalds.
She stroked the ring on her small finger as the man fell to the floor. Out of her wrist shot a ten inch, double bladed knife. She made a fist, and the blade came out right where her finger should have been.
Before the Father hit the ground, the blade entered in through his jaw and into his brain.
Protection suddenly turned round. She had no more than a moment to finish this.
Leaping onto the man to her left, she bounced off him and into the crowd.
Back on the platform, one of the soldiers made it to the pendulum. Father Reynalds is down. His cold, emotionless voice hit her like a bullet. Only a momentonly a moment. She told herself.
Citizens, locate the fiend.
Suddenly, the crowd around her came to life.
Running as fast as her feet could carry her, she kept inside the crowd for as long as she could. The longer that Protection could not see her, the longer she had to get some distance between her and them.
And then the crowd came in. That was her moment gone
She leapt onto the head of the nearest man, and used him to bounce her way onto a windowsill. She smashed the window and climbed in as bullets started bouncing off the walls.
There were two members of protection in here. Before they could call alarm, she pulled two knives from her belt and threw them, both at once, into their throats.
She jumped over their twitching bodies and broke through the door.
There was a member of the Protection to her right. She kicked off the wall and grabbed him by the soldiers, throwing him to the ground as she carried on over him.
Alyx turned a corner into the stairwell, just as Protection began to fire.
She would not be able to do this simply by running up the stairs, and she knew it. Quickly, she got on top of the railings, and jumped to reach those above her.
Grabbing loosely onto the lowest rail, she pulled herself onto the next, and threw herself up.
Again she did this; sending her onto the fourth floor.
Protection had seen her though, and although they were all downstairs, they still posed a threat.
She continued running up the stairs this was now the safest way to go.
By the fifth floor, she made broke down the door that led to the roof.
But the door opened for her. And standing in her way was a man that everyone knew.
She stopped dead in her path.
Good day. Doctor Blair smiled.
No Alyx gasped.
She put her fist to her own neck and made to unload the switchblade again. But nothing happened. She tried again.
Youll find that your weapon wont save you here. He smiled again. Now, come with me.
You'll get a PS3 for this game...

Don't Piss Her Off...
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Posts: 2689
Location: Big Sky Country

PostPosted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 12:28 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'm really beginning to like the heroines you come up with--They kick stupendous ass.

My only complaint here is that paragraphing was funny. Remember to double space and then it'll be way cool.

Since uploading a story makes it impossible to read - at least from my PC, I will upload it here instead.
I don't see how this issue is fixed at all - I had problems with all 3 methods up uploading: BBcode deleted all paragraph breaks, the thing that doesn't work on firefox made all but a few words tiny, and uploading a story straight from a word document removed ', " and ... , replacing them with boxes, and also multiplied the number of paragraph breaks by 5.

Does ANYONE else have this problem?

YES! I don't know if it's the system or what but the last story I posted was completely butchered. I don't even think I can post any stories without them coming out funny. Huh.
"Son avocat le croit coupable."

A shift in the seat. A momentary pause.


As the man, hemmed closely, walks down the stairs...

"His lawyer thinks he's guilty."

A grunt.

"You can't speak French around me, Fay. I have no idea what you're saying."

He steps away from the marble staircase, shoulders back and head thrown up proudly, arrogantly. Even in the snowy, fierce cold he is sure of his superiority. He heads towards his car. Seven black shadows follow suit, each one with their eyes hidden behind the black curtain of sunglasses. There's a shout in the distance. Three of their heads pivot and focus.

Like raptors.

The sound of shuffling paper fills the cabin.

"On topic...Why shouldn't they? He killed five people, for Christ's sake."



"He killed six people, Judy. Get the facts right."

Judy, pale freckled face wrinkled slightly, stares over at her sister, dressed rather fashionably, chocolate colored skin standing out shockingly against the white frilled blouse and dainty pants. Her fur rimmed coat is stretched behind her, clinging to the driver's seat. Judy grunts. Even if they WERE blood related they couldn't be more different.

Fay glances over from readjusting her make-up to see her sibling gawking. Her proud features frown and her jet-black eyes squint.


Judy shrugs her thin appearing shoulders, trying to get back to the present. The cold bites through the nearby window and she burrows deeper down into the thick, purple winter jacket surronding her, underneath which lies a simple white turtleneck.

It is apparent who is the more fashionable of the two.

Judy glances at the small clock located over the radio and watches the time curiously, odd green and brown dabbled eyes flickering. 2:30...

...God, it seems so much later than that.

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

Fay raises her eyebrows. "What, getting him out tonight? Yeah, no problem."

Judy points at the body guards. Four of them file--rather comically--into the Ford SUV, enormous bodies fighting to get into the somewhat large frame of the back and front seats. Two bald heads. One closely shaved. Another already in the vehicle. Ex-army men at best. Thugs at the worst.

"He's heavily protected."

It is Fay who grunts this time.

"I can see that."

As Judy narrows her eyes, Fay gives a feral grin. "That's why YOU'RE going to do the hard stuff while I get the house ready." She rubs her elegantly manicured hands together excitedly. "We're going to have a special guest tonight."

"If you mean special by being a murderer..."

Fay waves Judy's comment away. "Pfft. He's less than that, honey. He's a government official whose got some 'splainin' to do. Besides that...Isus put a huge price on his head. It's a win-win deal."

Judy feels a shiver go up her spine. It's apprehension. But it's also something else.


Both of them stop upon their activities to watch the black Explorer pull away slowly from the slush entrapped curb. The sickening crunch of snow comes to ears, as well as the obnoxious purr of the engine itself. Judy already knows what it is. 6 cylinder. A beer can at best. The car pivots, wheels and bright chrome rims glinting amid the heavy downpour of rain. Low beams shine through the bland gray of the street. They go past the sisters' car, letting light shutter into the cabin momentarily before zooming off into the distance. Soon the vehicle follows afterwards.

Fay chuckles, a low sound deep in her throat.

Judy merely smiles.

"We're ready, then?"

Fay turns her head slowly, perfectly molded eyebrows lifted upwards once again and eyes glittering mischieviously. The ink that serves as the iris is seemingly bottomless.

"Oh yes, we're ready, Judy." She reaches forward and turns on the ignition. "We are very, very ready."

The small, silver Infinity gently glides out of its parking spot, floating off into the corner.

It's show time.
What does it all MEAN?
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Elder In Training

Joined: 24 Sep 2004
Posts: 3100
Location: Lala land *hums*

PostPosted: Sat Jul 01, 2006 7:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hm, I think I get most of the storyline, some parts are odd, but since I don't know everything it's expected. Interesting, although I would've liked to read the whole story.

Eh, my brain's dead, next person please.
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PostPosted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 4:43 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

It's been eight days. x-x

Something my brain came up with. Completely my own story. I own all characters. Cept the places. Which are real. America, Europe, and Japan are real. All locations are real.


Where to begin my tale? No idea. It's just... there, but at the same time it's not. My friends... my family... Most have either gone missing or dead, or worse... Vampires ruined my life. I'm trying to ruin theirs right back. I guess you could call me Serena the Slayer. Or Serenity the Unserene. I don't care. It doesn't matter to me anymore...

My name was an ID that I couldn't free myself of, something that held me back from trying to stop the one thing that could ruin everything. Now, I don't think I really have a name...

I guess it all started in a small, suburban town, of Weirton, West Virginia. A steel mill town, it was pretty gritty before they put the filters in the exhaust towers. Back before I was even born, grit covered everything, even the trees, and turned what it landed on into an interesting rust color.

Anyway, the headquarters of the organization I used to 'belong' to was located somewhere in the downtown vicinity, near one 'Irish Pub'. It had good drink, but lousy singers on kareoke night. Note: Never again dare a wasted drunk to sing a foreign song...

It had been a usual night, I guess. It was quiet, like usual, and I was sitting in my usual spot. Alone. Silent. In silence with the occasional laugh at a drunk who fell off his stool.

{{This is all I have for right now.}}
Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.
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PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 4:46 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Dayum, how long's it been since someone posted in here? Sad

Inspired by Nightwish's 10th Man Down. It's a bit... gorier than my normal works.

My mom says I have the potential to be the next Stephen King. o_o That's just scary.

For one, his books scare me to death!

You'll see what's going on. The characters are created from the different races in Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.


A scream was stifled as a blade sliced through a neck swiftly, the outcry of fear and rage becoming a gurgling moan of pain. A body fell against a chair, dripping crimson staining murky brown. The coppery smell of newly spilt blood reached the dark form's nose, and it sheaved its longsword and turned to leave.

"W-Wait..." There was a shuddery breath from the dying teenage boy on the ground. "W-who a-are-" There was another soft gurgling. "- y-you?"

A pause.

"No one." The voice seemed female, but it was hard to tell because it was a whisper. There was a rustle of a cloak, and the form was gone. The boy shuddered, shivering in his death throes, and fell limp against the wooden chair. The room was silent, save for the quiet drip-drip of the blood that fell from his neck.

"You have done well, Assassin, but there's one problem. It wasn't an instant kill. The bonus is forfeit, but because he did die shortly after you left, you get a twenty percent portion of the bonus." An Argonian woman dropped coins into a gloved hand, which closed and fell against its owner's side. The woman, Ocheeva, looked back at her book, her red eyes focused on the words. "Go get some rest, and come back when Sithis has given you advice on your contracts." The dark form nodded, face hidden by a dark cowl, and it turned and left, leather boots making not a sound on the stone floor. An enchanted skeleton, clad in a rusty iron cuirass and bearing a similar shield-and-sword combo - even boots; paused in its path, turning to look at the form briefly as it walked past without looking back at the skeleton, which continued its eternal path.

The form dropped its belongings into a hardwood chest, sitting on the mattress with a flop. It looked around the barely lit room, the darkness in it barely penetrated by the two torches on either side of the room. A rat waddled along the floor, stopping at the form's feet and sniffing them, and squeaking as it was kicked away. Red eyes glared from beneath the cowl, and the form lay back on the bed, crossing its hands behind its head, still hidden. Blue skin was visible, but barely, and beneath the shrouded armor, what the Dark Brotherhood assassins wore, and the red eyes closed.

Sometime after, the form started shaking, grumbling under its breath and gritting its teeth. One of the Dark Sisters walked over, biting her lip, and shook the form gently. "Assassin, please wake up."

The Assassin sat up, rubbing the back of its head, and sighed. "Another nightmare..." Again, the voice was a bare whisper, so the Sister couldn't tell if it was male or female, either; the shrouded armor was too thick to tell.

There was a loud crashing noise making them both jump, and one of the Dark Brothers yelled, "It's okay! The fighting dummy fell down!" The Sister shook her head, sighing, and left the room.
Sometime in the night, a dark shadow creeped into the living chambers, where all the Dark Brotherhood slept soundly. One by one, their lives ended, even the lower Assassins'.

All but the one...

The hood was pulled back after, and the eyes of the shadow widened- How could it be?

.. And why was she staring into a male version of her own face?

I'm thinking about making this into a fanfic, actually..
Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.
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