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    Penny stared at her latte as the rain ran down the window beside her. She barely gave any notice to the chilled breeze that was managing to sneak around the panes of glass even though her arm that was closest to the window was cold.

    She looked at her watch then relieved her breath in a defeated sigh. He wasn’t coming. She should have known that he wouldn’t come, what reason was there for him to have come anyhow? She wasn’t anything special, especially to him.

    She rested her chin in her hand s she went back to staring at her untouched drink. She no longer wanted it, she didn’t think that she would ever want a latte ever again. She had, after all, only developed a liking for them when she had found out that it was his favorite; it had seemed like it would be something that they could share. Now it only seemed to remind her of how stupid she had been to believe he would want to meet her.

    The thunder rumbled, shaking the window panes as if trying to break them. As if shaken loose by the thunder the rain outside seemed to start falling harder. This rain was not going to be letting up anytime soon so there seemed little reason to linger here.

    With another sigh Penny stood and left the coffee shop. While everyone else was running from one doorway to the next in a useless attempt to keep dry, or were cowering under umbrellas, she simply started walking down the sidewalk. She no longer had any reason to care about how she looked so she didn’t care that within a few moments her red curls were reduced to a soaked and tangled mess.

    What she liked the most about the rain was that no one could tell that she was crying. Rain and tears looked the same as it ran down her face.


    Penny ignored the man at first, half hoping that he was trying to get someone else’s attention; then he caught her elbow. When she turned it was to find a man in military dress.

    “Are you Penelope Loydes?” The young man had to raise his voice to be heard over the rain.

    “Yes, I am, but I don’t know who you are.”

    He pulled her under the nearest awning then offered her a small bag, “I was asked to see that this found its way to you. Please, take it.”

    “Who is it from?” She looked at the bag though she made no move to take it.

    It is from the man who was supposed to meet you at the coffee shop that you just came out of.” When she still did not make a move for the bag he sighed, “Lu would have been here if it was in his power. Meeting you, here, today, have been all that he has talked about for months. Please, take it. Everything is explained inside.”

    Penny reluctantly took the bag; there was almost no weight to it at all though she could tell that it was not empty.

    The private nodded then ran out to the shelter, taking no more notice of the rain then she had.

    More then a little curious about what was in the bag she didn’t bother to see where the private went; instead she shouldered the bag and hurried home.

    Once closed into her bedroom and changed into dry clothes, Penny sat in the middle of her bed with the bag in front of her. The green cotton canvas was old, yet it still seemed to be strong. There were only a couple of places where the fabric had been patched.

     Reluctantly, Penny opened the bag. To her surprise everything inside was perfectly dry; she had expected everything to at least be damp since the bag itself had seemed soaked.

    The first item that she pulled out was a set of dog tags. The name engraved on them was “Lucius Kyle Loydes”, certainly it was the name of the man she had been hoping to meet with. Under the name was a long set of numbers then his blood type; to her amusement it was the same as her own.

    Next she pulled a small handful of photos from the bag. She slowly went through them, the ones on top were all of the same man and woman, then there were some with the man and woman and a baby. Through the photos she watched the child age, then suddenly the woman was no longer in the pictures. The last six photos were ones that her foster parents had on the wall down in the family room, they were of her.

    She put the photos on the bag with the dog tags then pulled the next item out of the bag, a journal. The journal was old and falling apart, it was being held together by a boot lace. She slid the string off and opened it. There, just inside of the cover, was an envelope—shockingly white against the dingy, yellowed pages of the journal.

    The journal joined the other items on the bed then she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter to read it.

    “Dear Penelopy,

            If you are reading this then I feel that I must try and tell you how sorry I am—though I know that there is no way I can ever convey how deeply I am sorry through a letter. I had hoped to meet you; I had truly intended to be at that coffee shop and talk with you. Clearly things do not always go as planned.

    It has been so long since I last saw you in person, though I had seen many pictures of you through the years. What is all in the bag are my most prized possessions, if the worst has happened then I hope you will be able to get to know me through the journal.

    Now, I know that you have questions, and some of them I think I can guess. Let me at least try and give you some answers.

    Why did I not meet you today?” Well, if you are reading this letter then I am either dead or in the hospital. My heart has been failing lately. When I realized how bad my condition was I made the arrangements for you to receive this bag just in case I was not able to make our meeting.

    Who was the man who delivered the package? His father was my best friend for years; we became close after your mother passed away. Rob is the one who would not let me sign away my parental rights. Looking back now I see that he was right, it would have been a mistake. Young Don is a lot like his father was and I know that I can rely on him to carry out my wishes.

    Okay, that gets the easiest of the questions out of the way. Now, lets try for some of the harder ones.

    Why would I put you into foster care and why would I even be considering cutting all ties with you?

    Before I fully answer these two questions I first need to tell  you that there had never been a time when I did not love you. You were, are and always will be my little girl. I need you to believe this.

    I put you into foster care after your mother died because I did not know what else to do. Neither I, or your mother, have any family and the only life I have ever known has been the military life. I thought that you would be better if you could grow up in a normal family.

    As for the second question, why I would consider cutting ties to you, well that one is a little harder. It took me years to get over the loss of your mother, yet from what I could see in the pictures of you that I was sent, you seemed to have moved on. I had thought that you would be happier if your foster family was your only family.

    Why did I rarely write? Well, to be honest, I am a coward. I’m not a coward when it comes to facing death on a battlefield, but when it comes to you… Penny I am only too aware of how many times I have let you down. Besides, as I have told myself many times, what could I possibly say in a letter that would be of interest to a young lady?

    Today, as you read this, should be your fifteenth birthday. Happy Birthday,  Penelopy. Of all the times I have let you down, this has to be the worst. I am so sorry! If there was a way I would make it up to you, but I do not even know if I am alive as you read this or dead.

    Right now the only person who will know why I did not make it to our meeting will be Don. Look again in the bag, you should find a cell phone. Use it to call don, his number is programmed in. You only need to make the call and he will know what you want to know. If you do not want to you will not even have to speak.

    If I am dead then I will have died before truly engaging in the most important mission of my life—being a proper father to you.

    If I still live it is with the hope that you will forgive me for my years of absence and give me at least a chance to make it all up to you.

        With all my love,

                    Your father



    Penny wiped her eyes, still staring down at the letter. She had loved her foster parents, but she had mostly enjoyed the few letters that she had received from her father. She had been able to accept that the military was his job and had always hoped that one day, when she was old enough, he would ask her to go live with him.

    Now that she thought about it that was the reason she had actually been willing to meet with a man she barely knew. That was why it had hurt so much when he had not shown up. And that was why she still wanted to see him. He was—is—her father, her only real family and because of that she thought she could forgive anything.

    With shaking hands she pulled the cell phone out of the bag and flipped it open. The only number in the phone was Don’s; clearly this had all been carefully planned out.

    Don’s phone only rang once before he answered with, “He is at the hospital. Ten minutes ago, when I spoke to the doctor, I was told that his condition is stable.”

    Penny swallowed hard, still looking at the letter, when suddenly her mind was made up. “Which hospital? I have to see him.”

    “I had hoped that you would say that. If you will let me, I will take you to him myself.”

    “I would like that. My address is…”

    “Its okay. Your father gave it to me. I will be there soon.”

    “My father seems to have planned out everything for this.”

    “He wanted to be ready just in case. I will be there soon.”

    Penny closed the phone then pocketed it as she jumped off of her bed and ran down the steps to wait on the porch, this time grabbing a rain coat on her way past the hall closet. Suddenly all that mattered was that she was going to spend part of her birthday with her real father, it didn’t even matter that it was in the hospital.

this was inspired by this picture done by :iconkaicarpenter:

It certainly is not what i thought it would be, and i was a little surprised as i wrote it and found that it did not follow the path i thought it was going to.
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Norwegia siedział w saloniku Polski i popijał kawę. Gospodarz zajął fotel naprzeciwko gościa i nerwowo obracał w palcach łyżeczkę do cukru. Atmosfera była dość nerwowa. Feliks widocznie zbierał się w sobie by obwieścić coś ważnego.
–A więc? – Zapytał uważnie przyglądając się polakowi przyodzianego w łososiową sukienkę koktajlową.
–Jesteśmy przyjaciółmi prawda? – Feliks wpatrywał się w swego gościa z lekką paniką i niepewnością.
–Zaiste. – Odpowiedział mu, zakładając nogę na nogę.
–Potrzebuję twojej pomocy.
–Co? Nie. – Rzeczy Pospolita zmieszał się lekko. Lukas uniósł  brwi.– Nie chodzi o pieniądze. Bo ja…jestem dziewczyną.
–Naprawdę? – Norwegia odłożył filiżankę na spodeczek leżący na stoliku. Gospodarz, a raczej gospodyni pokiwała głową. – Super. Ja też.
Felicja wytrzeszczyła oczy na gościa. Zawsze wiedziała, że z Lukasem jest coś nie tak. Myślała, że jej przyjaciel z północy jest gejem – kazirodcą, a nie dziewczyną. Słowianka z radości poderwała się z fotela i ze łzami szczęścia jęła ściskać swoją koleżankę.
–Tak się cieszę strasznie! – Piszczała.
–Ja, ja. – Luka poklepała ją po plecach i odkleiła od siebie.
–To, co robimy? – Zapytała polka siadając norweżce na kolanach.
–Mam pewien plan. – Uśmiechnęła się konspiracyjnie.

Od tych niespodziewanych wyznań minęło kilka dni. Dziewczęta umówiły się, że zrobią „wejście smoka” na najbliższym zebraniu ONZ’u. Nadszedł owy dzień. Wszyscy zebrali się w holu przed salą obrad i czekali na spóźnialskich. Państwa gadały między sobą na luźne tematy i udawali, że nie widzą bardzo zdenerwowanego Niemcy, któremu takie spóźnienia niszczyły cały plan dnia.
Nagle szklane drzwi frontowe rozsunęły się i wszyscy usłyszeli głośny krzyk Polski, który przepraszał, że tyle musieli czekać. Zapadła cisza. Polska miał na sobie elegancką czarną sukienkę i beżowy żakiecik, w ręku trzymał teczuszkę z konikami. Blond włosy miał zaplecione w elegancki francuski warkocz, a na twarzy delikatny makijaż. Obok niego stał na wysokich czarnych szpilkach Norwegia. Lukas emanował elegancją i dostojeństwem. Obcisła ciemnogranatowa sukienka z wysokim rozcięciem podkreślała jego kobiece kształty. Na wszystko, co dobre! On miał nawet biust. Niewielki, ale jednak tam był.
–Lukas, Feliks. – Poszedł do nich Ludwig, przepychając się przez zbierających szczęki z wykładziny zebranych. – Zabawa zabawą, ale…
–Nie rozumiem, o czym mówisz. – Przerwała mu Luka. – Założyłyśmy tylko to, co przystoi naszej płci.
–Jak zwykle olśniewasz. – Przy Luce zmaterializował się Szwed. Ucałował dłoń norweżki, po czym zwrócił się do polki. – Urocza jak zawsze.
–Dzięki Berw. – Felicja uśmiechnęła się promiennie i poszła znaleźć Litwę. Jego reakcji była najbardziej ciekawa.
–Czy coś ci się nie pomyliło bracie? – Do Szweda doskoczył Dania. Mathias objął Lukę w pasie. Przy okazji wysłał ostrzegawcze spojrzenia Berwaldowi i Alfredowi.
–Mówiłem tylko dzień dobry siostrze. – Warkną Szwecja, gotowy rozerwać Duńczyka tu i teraz.
–Ktoś się zapomniał? – Ludwig nawet nie próbował ich rozdzielać. Panowie prawie skakali sobie do oczu. – Komuś trzeba odświeżyć pamięć.
–Stopp det. – Luka złapała Mathiasa za ucho i pociągnęła za sobą w stronę Sali konferencyjnej. – Zanim dojdzie do kolejnej Rzezi Sztokholmskiej.
Dania posłusznie podreptał za swoją kobietą. Nie omieszkał jednak odwrócić głowy i pokazać Szwecji języka na znak swego zwycięstwa.
Miszcz łamszotuff uderza znowu XD
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Cartoon super stars save the day prologue

Our special starts off with your normal everyday family. We have a father, a mother, a teenage daughter, and a little brother.

“Cartoon super stars save the day,” says the mother.
Is the story of a teenager who deals with horrible drug abuse.” “Some of your favorite cartoon characters will help you understand how drugs and other dangerous substances can ruin your life,” says the father. “Pay attention to it,” says the teen. “Talk about it with your friends and family.” “And make the right decision!” says the brother. “Stay away from drugs and alcohol.” The family smile at each other and embrace.
After a super duper long hiatus, I finally have posted a new story. This one is a drug special staring the modern cartoons of today as well as some from the 90's that I grew up with. Hope you all enjoy it and follow what it says.

Based of "Cartoon all stars to the rescue"
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A woman was running through the rain, her black Mary-Janes pounding against the sleek, wet pavement. It was two in the morning, the only sources of light were coming from the lamps on the sidewalk and the few cars that passed by. She was panting, her long, black hair sticking to her forehead, rain and sweat dripping from her brow and chin. Her heart pounding against her rib cage like a hammer on a nail. She was holding a package securely in her arms. But why? Why was she running in the rain at such an hour? A late night delivery? No, Because of him. He was coming,  he was coming to take the package. She was getting tired, her legs begging for her to stop. But she kept running, she couldn't stop. She could already hear the pounding of the man's feet, his breath sprinting after her. The woman accelerated, slipping against the wet cement under her feet and tripping against the cracked pavement. He was getting closer, the woman could hear his heavy breathing. His feet were pounding like thunder, haunting the woman with their repetitive thuds. She knew she couldn't run forever, praying to God that she would get to her destination soon. The woman looked up, a ghost of a smile on her face. She saw it, just down the road: the old town church. She quickened her pace, the man's breaths getting more distend. The package held tightly to her chest. She ran up the steps of the old church, the old creaking wooden steps whined with the shifting weight and unwanted pressure and haste. She shifted the bundle in her arms and pounded on the large doors with all her strength.
“Please open up!” she begged as her fists banged against the door which groaned in response. She could hear the man's feet against the cement, getting louder and his breathing getting deeper the closer he got. As he sees the woman come to a stop, his eyes narrow and a sly smirk crawls onto his features.
“Got you now,” he huskily sneered and quickened his pace. The woman turned around and her eyes grew wide. He was catching up on her, fast.
“Damn,” the woman muttered in distress. She took in her surroundings, trying to find a place to hide her package. She sees an old barrel, filled with damp soil and a small, red camellia blossom bush. It will have to do, she thought as she carefully placed the delicate treasure behind the bush, making sure it didn't get too wet. She could have stood there forever if she weren't in a life-or-death situation. She had to go. The woman took one more sad glance at the barrel and ran off the porch. The man, too packed with adrenalin to know what she did, ran after her. The woman ran through alleyways and side streets in hope of losing him. But he just wouldn't give up! As the woman took another turns, she ran into a dead-end alley. Her heart started to pound like a drum as a mask of pure horror found its way to her face as it paled like a sheet. She heard the sickening sound of the man's laughter fill the air. She slowly turned around to see his tall, bulky build holding a 9-mm Glock in his right hand. She started to hyperventilate as his laughter died down to snickers, and he slowly started to step closer.
“Hee Hee, I've finally got you. After two years! Two years I've been chasing you! I considered giving up, you know. That is, until I saw you walking passed the bar. I find it adorable how you still make little mistakes like that. Hiding for so long until you decided to walk passed my favorite bar. Haha. You know... I'm really getting tired of this little game of chase, I'm glad it's over finally...” he asked with fake innocence as he stopped two feet in front of her. He leaned in close so his rough, chapped lips were brushing against her ear, his five o'clock shadow clawing at her damp, pale cheeks.
“...Aren't you?” he said with a dark chuckle. He pulled away and harshly grabbed her chin so she could look into his eyes, a dull, dark sickening crimson red.
“Heh, if they say the eyes are the window to the soul then yours must really be twisted” she coyly said. His face contorted to one of hatred and anger. He glared at her and asked a long feared question to the woman, venom dripping from his voice.
“Where. Is. It?” he demanded in a low raspy voice, the women had to resist the urge to gag at the strong sent of stale cigarette smoke mixed with gin he breathed into every word. 'He's always been a drinker, and he's been smoking, no surprise there' she thought. The woman put up the courage to glare back at him, and spit her response at him with even more venom then she had reserved.
“Heh, go to hell! You'll never find it, you can try, but you'll only end up throwing your life away. Makes you feel weak, doesn't it... darling?” She put on a smug look. The man's face grew red with anger, and he let go of the woman, only to slap her across the face. She fell to the wet, and rugged grown. She hissed as her hands scraped against the pavement.
“Shut up! You will tell me, now!” he yells down at her, his voice slurred as his spit landed on her. The woman simply looked up at her with a blank stare.
“Or. What?” before she could react, the gun was positioned against her temple. She went silent as a smirk grew on the man's lips.
“You tell me,” he said in a cocky demeanor.
“If you plan on killing me, you might as well do it now, I will never tell. And in a way, you'll be doing me a favor,” she said with a smug look, but there was sadness and sorrow hidden beneath it.
“Oh? How so~?” the man purred, feel very confident that he is the one in command.
“My life has been a living hell. Ever since I was little. I was tortured by my parents everyday. I was abandoned and left for dead at 8 years old. I was bullied and beaten at school every day, and came home to more when I got to the orphanage. I was broken. At 16 years I was kicked out of the orphanage and couldn't find a job. I lived on the street for a year fending for myself. No one ever even gave me so much as a sideways glance, and the ones that did look, they were filled with either pity or disgust. I finally snapped and went to work as a prostitute. I had been violated, degraded. And for what!? Barely enough money to help me get by. I tried to commit suicide a number of times but was too scared to finish! And then came the day I met you!! You said you could save me, help me, love me! And you lied! You lied to me! You beat me, touched, me, every night I would cry myself to sleep after being violated by you!” The woman's voice arose as she stood her ground in front of the man that had really, truly, broken her forever. The man started to back away, shocked at how much this woman dared yell at him in this way. The woman gritted her teeth as she looked down at the floor, hot tears running down her cheeks.
“And even if it wasn't GOT ME PREGNENT! I ran away after that. Two years i'v been hiding from you, and trying to raise the baby. A boy, with you're haunting red eyes. Every time I looked at him I felt disgusted.” she yelled as loud as her voice would allow her, being soar from her life speech. She glared up at the man with a look that would give you nightmares. Her eye were filled with sorrow, betrayal, sadness, fire, fear. But they also seemed dead, like after admitting that, she had given up, and her soul had left to who knows where. She fell limp. Her sobs raking her fallen state.
“Please, pl-please I beg you, PLEASE! Damn it! Kill me!” She fell to the cold, wet, ground. Her fists banging agains the soaked pavement. She fell silent as the man cackled again.
“Hahaha! You're weak! You tell your pitiful life story and expect me to help you!? You're even stupider then I thought!” he comes to a stop and looks down at her, a look of disgust on his face. The man grabs her by the hair so they'll make eye contact, only to kick her back down to the floor and hold her in place with his sneaker clad foot. The woman all the while gave yells and protests in pain. The man then points his gun at her head, a sneer plastered on his face as he put a finger on the trigger. The last thing she heard was his voice saying the most ironic thing she had heard in a long time
“Don't worry darling, I will put an end to you're troubled life~,” and with that, a loud bang echoed throughout the sky as fast foot-steps came soon after.
Only a few blocks away, a woman. A nun, came out of the church at the loud sounds. She looked around with confusion written on her face.
“what on earth was that?!” she put her hands on her hips as she searched around, but when she saw nothing, she was about to retire for the night, she heard shuffling, and was that...crying?
“Hello?” there it was again, but it wasn't a strong sound, quite young as well. She saw the old barrel and a white blanket caught her eye. She walked over to see a child whimpering behind the tsubaki bush.
“oh my, you poor thing” she had a sad smile as she picked him up, the child's cry ceased to sniffles and sobs as he looked at the woman.
“that's right, no need to cry anymore little one, god has brought you here to end your sufferings” with that, she walked back into the church, leading the child to a world without pain, a world with chance.

And in the distance, through the air. A mother's forgotten message floated through nights sky:
May your life be well my boy. May you smile, laugh, cry, love, hate, be happy, be sad, and never give up. Be strong and brave.and may you have the opposite of my life. Not a troubled life or a half life. But...A happy life...A full life~
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Part 4
It is easy to recognize the sound of his laughter, as it has its very own, lively and free note to it. He has settled into this common way of life and the man with the red hair the shade of wine seems comfortable, his amber eyes that have seen many an adventure fixed on his wife who has just dropped the dozens of pages of manuscript. The papers scatter on the kitchen floor, on the dog’s food and water bowls, on a school bag which lay haphazardly under the table. I let my eyes wander from the woman to the teenager with the color in his eyes slightly darker kind of violet blue than his mother’s. The copper-red hair is fixed in a cool manner, he seems to be concentrating on his phone yet grins right on cue. The final participant of this morning is trying to hold his laughter as he finishes his second bowl of cereals. Sporting his brown hair very short the second son looks mean, but his inherited amber eyes have gentleness in them that speaks mountains.
And then, her long, wavy hair cascading behind her, the woman who in truth is a goddess will drop on the floor to gather the pieces of her work, making all her family members bend over or kneel down to help. Laughing and gathering together using the pages as an excuse, they share a moment of physical closeness before separating again, all for their separate tasks, but knowing they are never apart.

It is easy to claim eternal life as a piece of heaven, which must lead to a blissful existance. Yet in truth, as the younger of the two mixed-blood brothers silently notes when he leaves her side again, eternity has it’s viscious, cruel side. After all, nothing of the mortal realm lasts forever, that is a rule that transcends all levels of what might be called a living reality, both the planet Terra and the complex universe of Tellus. The flora goddess is still grieving, after half a millenia has already passed since her husband finally passed on. Her feet have not moved much from the spot they stopped at a hundred years ago but even so, her power flows through the plants of the biosphere. Her sadness breaks the hearts of those who meet the living shell that is left of her now but even so, her sons will continue to visit. The amber eyes draw closed for a moment as their owner attempts to hold back his tears, act manly, like his father always wanted from his sons. But in this world where those two once had such happiness and in which he and his brother now have their own, there is that one member of the family that will never die but live on, so very helplessly lonely.
Part 1: [link]
Part 2. [link]
Part 3.…

These are a series of clips, you could say. I am one who keeps getting these strong visual/emotional ideas of sort ("mielikuva" = "mind + image, don't know how to really translate the meaning properly) and I've decided to write some of them up. :) Not mentioning names is intentional in case you were wondering.
Parts 1 and 2 are inspired by our Wild Wild Secrets -impro universe, half or so of the characters presented belong to ~malluainen. Part 3 is inspired by another impro, Another Lifetime, between me and ~WillowGrouse. Part 4 is from another impro with Malluainen, Beyond Twilight, I'm using characters I didn't in 1 & 2.

It's 4:19 AM and I'm here posting this. Why? I started writing this thinking I'll finish quickly... but it took me hours, surprisingly. ^^; Just wanted to post it quick like the other three...
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As much as Nathan Niobee didn't want to do it, he had to. His brunette older brother was having another episode and he was terrified. Whenever his brother got like that, he was always worried that one or both of them would be killed in attempt to calm him down. He had noticed only about an hour ago that Jarod was acting the way he always did before an episode. He was breathing quicker, his eyes darting, his fingers tapping, twirling his hair, and he kept taking off his glasses and putting them back on. He didn't even need them that much, he believed, but he said it was better safe than sorry. Nathan had glasses as well now, he had gotten them recently. But he didn't really need them.

"J-Jarod! I'm coming out now, okay? Calm down, and don't attack me. Alright? Can you handle that?"

The answer he got was an inhuman growl. Goddamnit he was so scared. He had been trying to get Jarod to calm down ever since he saw the first signs, but it just wouldn't work. He had tried to calm him down in every way he knew how. There were little kids in the house and when Jarod was like this, he had no memories of anything or anyone. He would probably kill the kids in this state. Nathan had to make sure that didn't happen. How could he live with that kind of blood on his already bloodied hands? It would be his fault because Jarod was mindless and he was responsible for what his brother did when he was like this.

If he could lure Jarod outside and hit him hard enough... It was worth a shot.

But Jarod also happened to be right outside the door and that meant he could get seriously hurt if he didn't dodge his brother fast enough.

He shoved the door open, and did a quick roll underneath his brother as he jumped at him like a wolf after prey. He pushed himself back up quickly and headed for the front door, passing his brother's cat. The cat mewed at him and lashed his tail.

Jarod growled again and chased his brother like predator and prey. Nathan left the door open, hoping it would be enough. He skidded to a halt and waited to see if Jarod would follow. The brunette did and Nathan took off again, shouting, "Jarod! Follow me!"

And he did just that. Baring his teeth, he ran after his younger brother. Nathan looked around desperately for something to hit his brother with. The only thing he could find was a branch, but that seemed good enough to the black-haired boy. He held it back in a baseball stance and when Jarod dashed past him in attempt to grab him, he whacked his brother as hard as he could in the back of the head. Jarod dropped to the ground, knocked out cold.

Nathan panted, trying to catch his breath. He picked up his brother. The freckled Japanese male did not look at all like someone who just went insane, but under that innocent and rare look, he was worse than the creature in Alice in Wonderland. "Geez Jarod... You really need to eat more. It's almost like you're anorexic. I hope you aren't. I'll make you something when you wake up."

Jarod was going to have a headache when he woke up, that was for sure.

"Nanan!" Nathan was greeted by a tiny being latching onto his leg when he walked in. He couldn't really see with Jarod in the way, so he kept walking, the little person holding onto him. He put Jarod down on the couch and looked down to see two big blue eyes staring back at him.

"Hey Sher, what's up?"

"Dada!" She pointed at Jarod.

"Ooh, you want Jarod, huh?" She nodded. "Well, Daddy's tired and needs to sleep for a while before he can play, alright?"


"And he's gonna be kinda hurt, so maybe you can go play with Rowan, okay?"

"No! Ro' no fun!"

He sighed. He noticed how tired she looked. He knelt down to her level and asked, "You want to go to bed? Are you sleepy?" His niece nodded in response and continued pointing at Jarod. "You wanna sleep with Daddy?" She nodded again. He lifted her up and put her on top of Jarod. She curled up like a cat and fell asleep. The mismatched eyed boy found his brother's glasses and put them in Jarod's pocket. He was sure the smaller would be able to find them there.
Why hasn't anyone called Social services on this family seriously it's dangEROUS OH MY GOD
The children could be killed aND ONLY NATHAN CARES LIKE WHAT THE HeLl?!

Oh well I hope you enjoyed~
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Full name Zekier zrose hedgerabbit.

nickname: cupcake,sugar bunny and cuddle rabbit :3

Likes: reading, music, rock and roll..... etc

dislikes: mean ppl

relation ship: single.

kids: Lilly the hedgecabbit.

exs?: sky the cabbit.

gender: Female.

color: pinkish brown with a bunny tail.

eye color: pink.

fav cloths: any thing really.
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