A Big Price to Pay For Comfort The humming of Linda's car was incessant, as were all others, as they were all waiting to move on their way past the traffic light. Linda's ears rang with constant shouting (that went past the closed windows) and loud honks. Being stuck in standstill traffic is a fate worse than death itself.A Big Price to Pay For Comfort9 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
"My goodness," she said to herself, "If I have to spend another hour, I'll starve!" Linda honked her horn, and joined the others. But that was not before she found a small opening at a random hotel, and she quickly drove in. Recognizing the logo in the bright wall, she knew that she could finally reach her destination in time: a trendy club only she and her esteemed colleagues knew about. But alas, her tired body wouldn't allow it, even if she was awake. She couldn't make it to the club, regrettably. Still, as long as her body could function, she was golden.
Linda, dressed in almost business attire, struggled to keep herself up while approaching the front
NTN fancy attire promptcharacter 1 and character 2 going to an event that requires formal attireNTN fancy attire prompt5 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sighing, Crow looked over himself in the mirror. He was dressed in a maroon overcoat, pale red vest and a white button-up shirt. He had just finished tying the red cravat around his neck into a bow. “I look like a penguin,” he commented, grimacing at his reflection, glancing all the way down to his tan slacks and black dress-shoes.
“You look fine.” Will commented, standing next to him, adjusting Crow's hair back some. “Don't you want your hair forward? You look better with bangs.”
Crow leaned his head away from Will's hands, “Stop that! I feel more comfortable with it all slicked back like I'm in a freaking-ass wind tunnel.”
Will rolled his eyes, dropping his hands and began to adjust Crow's cravat's tightness. “I don't understand why you're so nervous. You've been to parties like this before.” He turned around checking Crow's appearance in the glass.
SCPJ-009Objeto: #SCPJ-009SCPJ-00911 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Procedimientos de Contención Especiales: SCPJ-009 debe permanecer cerrado, con una valla electrificada a un radio de cincuenta metros alrededor del edificio, y cámaras de vigilancia instaladas en todos los accesos al interior. No se debe permitir la entrada a nadie salvo permiso de revisión o brecha de contención.
Descripción: SCPJ-009 es el antiguo edificio abandonado de la Facultad de ██████████, en el Campus de ██████ ████ de la Universidad de █████, inaugurado en septiembre de 2014 y cerrado en octubre tras el Incidente PT-1410.
El sótano de SCPJ-009, accesible mediante unas escaleras y un ascensor junto al Módulo A de la planta baja, permanece iluminado a pesar de no haber ningún generador conocido en los alrededores, disponiendo aparen
First TimePeople always say that killing is one of the most traumatic experiences that you can go through, but I don't know if I agree with that. I've killed plenty of people, so many now that I stopped counting or remembering exactly how I did it. There are important ones that will always stick with you though: The first time, for me anyway, is the most vivid, that's ingrained in my head.First Time17 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
I didn't even mean to kill him, that wasn't my intention at all. I wanted to hurt him yeah, but as soon as that first blow connected I stopped thinking about how hard I hit or how many times. I didn't care that I felt his bones snapping and splintering with each hit. I remember that look in his eyes, pure fear and confusion for several reasons I guess. I suppose I could go into a bit more detail on it, give you a bit of a story.
See this was back when I was still in the Compound, a now destroyed and abandoned facility that was built specifically to raise kids like me: Mutants, Super-humans, whatever. Now this
Fireberd Requiem Season 6: Episode 11Fireberd Requiem Season 6: Episode 1120 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Fireberd Requiem: Season 6
Seven Years Ago
This was way back when I was about twelve years old or something like that. Anyway, I only had three robots built at the time: Multi Power, Aura Laser, and Torture Droid. You’ll learn a little bit more on why I built robots. But yeah, let’s continue with this episode.
Anyway, Eric was at school, sitting by myself, with my robots, eating lunch. And moments later, a group of kids began walking up to me, ready to cause some trouble for me.
“Well, if it isn’t the robot nerd.” The leader of the group smirked.
Eric nodded. “What do you want?”
“Why are you sitting all by yourself?”
“I’m not sitting by myself.” Eric commented. “My robots are eating with me.”
The kids began to laugh and point fingers at him. “You’re so weird. Why don’t you make friends like normal kids do?”
Torture Droid stepped forward and confronted the kids. “
NTN prompts-letterSighing, Crow was sitting at his desk. He stared at the paper in front of him. Annoyed, he flicked the pencil across the desk. “Write a letter to him, he says,” Crow mocked, grimacing again. The paper was taunting him, all white and crisp and new.NTN prompts-letter5 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Suddenly, he lurched forward, snatching up the paper and with both hands crinkled it into a tight little ball. And when it wouldn't get any smaller, Crow flung it at the desk. The wad of paper hit the wood, bounced against the wall and came flying back to Crow's forehead. Although the blow wasn't hard, it startled him enough. The precarious balance Crow was achieving with the front two legs of his chair up in the air was suddenly knocked off balance as he yelped from the hit and fell backwards, screaming along the way. With a great thud, Crow hit the floor, banging his head.
With his eyes shut tight from the collapse, Crow thought to himself: I'm a purebred idiot.
A voice called from downstairs, a warm familiar male voice that was
lingEr -prompts practiceSomeone throws a punch and hits your character instead of the intended targetlingEr -prompts practice5 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The crowded restaurant became suddenly silent when two fishermen arguing had started throwing fists at each other. Curious as to what they were fighting about, Hiero got up and wandered closer. Worried as to what may happen, Cyril got up and followed the white-haired boy's head as he disappeared into a crowd of much taller men.
The two men were arguing about something related to their catches, or their boats, something nautical, and nonsensical as far as Cyril was concerned.
“And your stup'd boat can't lick a days speed off my Matila Sea.” said one drunk, a man in his forties looking beefy, hairy and worn. He was dressed in several layers of dark colored clothing with a woven hat on his head.
The other drunk, of around the same age, but he was worse for wear in the wrinkle department and had a beer belly, scoffed at the man. “Like you think a hull that large can carry as much a