Numida Rising: Southern OpportunitiesMulai Ahmed er Raisuni opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling of the simple bedroom he'd taken in the former hotel now the center of Numidia's acting government in Alexandria. True, the newly chosen Parliament and its Prime Minister met in Cairo, but everyone knew that the real power resided with Raisuni in Alexandria. Such thoughts were not what had wakened him however. No, that was not the case. Something was stirring. Something in the world. It was not the first time he'd woken with such misgivings. It was one such sensation that had started him upon this path nearly two years ago and continued to propel him upon it now.Numida Rising: Southern Opportunities8 minutes ago in Short Stories More Like This
He rose from bed and dressed swiftly in an unadorned military uniform. There were no awards, emblems or boards to give any hint at who he was upon the camouflaged light brown fabric. Indeed those that didn't know him might mistake him for some fool who had chosen to wear a soldier's discarded attire.
Leaving the room, he was greeted respectfully by two of
You Deserve To Be Loved (Request #9) “Sammy!” Gabriel yelled, sliding to his knees beside the too-still body on the bathroom floor.You Deserve To Be Loved (Request #9)51 minutes ago in Short Stories More Like This
Oh no, no, no! Dear God, no! Gabriel thought, eyes quickly scanning over the still growing pool of blood that the giant’s body was surrounded by.
“Sammy?” Gabriel asked, already knowing that the man in front of him wouldn’t answer.
God, no, c’mon Sammy, hold on just a little bit longer. Gabriel thought desperately, picking the giant rag doll up off the ground before zapping them in front of a hospital. He ran through the doors and looked around frantically, his voice suddenly gone as his panic began to rise. He rushed forward, to the nurses station, and still couldn’t find his voice.
“Are you okay, Sweety?” The nurse asked once she saw him standing there.
Pickle BabyPickle Baby1 hour ago in Short Stories More Like This
The father sat in the small, stiff hospital chair, fingers tight and white-knuckled around the arm rests. His wife sat next to him, their young child cradled in her arms, who sniffled softly. She gazed down at the baby, eyes filled with tears.
“Mark,” she whispered, lifting her eyes to gaze at her husband, “shouldn’t they be back by now?”
His hazel eyes stared off into space, his shoulders rising in a lethargic shrug. “I don’t know, Kristy. I’m not the doctor.” He drug in a deep, rattling breath, and slowly turned and focused his gaze on their small son. His jaw clenched as his eyes fell upon the small bandage on the child’s arm. “I really don’t know.”
He turned away, and the room returned to its previous silence, only interrupted by the occasional whimper from the baby. The harsh fluorescent lighting made it impossible to miss the discoloration on his skin, the red and purple bruise-like patches that were sp
Wait, What?- A Pokemon Black LOLwhat?lockeSo this is gonna be very basic, and is kinda framed like a bunch of code/computer output/I... don't even know.Wait, What?- A Pokemon Black LOLwhat?locke2 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
But, a rules list is a rules list! Here, take this obvious Versil reference, AND the rules list!:
1) You can only catch the first Pokémon you encounter/meet on each route/in each area. Standard stuff.
1a) Dupes Clause set to "Irrelevant"
1b) Shinies are a MUST CATCH. You may use them if you like, but if they are the first catch of the area they may not be changed and you cannot catch anything else on the route (unless in the highly unlikely event that you encounter another shiny.)
2) All Pogémon must be named.
3) If a Pogéman dies, it must be seen off to the Elysium in proper fashion.
4) LOLwhat?: When you catch/are given a Pogeman, it must be immediately changed into a friend, acquaintance, or other theme based off of a group of people, and named accordingly. This means that you MUST own PokéGen, PokéSav, or other save
Los ParientesLos Parientes3 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
-¿Qué ganas tú? Nos dijeron que habías muerto en el País del Jade, y justo cuando apareces de la nada insistes en volver. ¿A qué? ¿A que esta vez sí te maten?
Su ojo lo miraba fijamente, con rabia e impotencia. Sencillamente no entendía esa terquedad. Y a la vez no le extrañaba, pues desde niño había sido así. Lo sabía bien.
-A mamá le hablaron de tu muerte. Vinieron de la ciudad a decirnos. Ya va para dos años de eso.
Aquellos eran días espantosos, marcados bajo el signo de una estrella terrible. Las lluvias se habían negado a caer en la tierra, matando las siembras. A la sequía siguió el hambre. Al hambre siguió la muerte, cayendo primero los más vulnerables.
- Entonces las cosas no iban tan mal. Pero aquello la hirió mucho. Desde ahí se postró y no volvió a levantarse. Papá la siguió al poco tiempo- continuó ella. Aquella última m
The Bouncing VeggiesOnce upon a time in the land of veggies lives 1 fantastic female veggie named Petunia Rhubarb. Sweet, joyful, & a lover of bouncy balls. One day, she approached to some unusual farm.The Bouncing Veggies4 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Where am I?" Petunia Rhubarb asked herself "Everyone feels so jumpy"
While walking through the farm, she hears of montage of 'boings' & realize that this is a hopping farm.
"It's a hopping farm" she cheers "I wanna hop to"
Luckily, there was a bouncy ball for her. Now she's ready to hop.
"Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing Boing
The Super Secret Origin of OvercastTimeline: This story takes place approximately 3½ years before the start of the series.The Super Secret Origin of Overcast5 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The lights outside the window flashed intermittently, blue, yellow, and green. Ravenswood ran his fingers through his hair, then held his palm to his mouth. Giving a puff of breath, he wrinkled his nose and grabbed a breath mint. "So, you think they're gonna show?"
Michael Bruce was sitting in an armchair across the room, reading the newspaper. "They said they would."
It irritated him how comfortable his friend was. "Yeah, but they should've been here a half an hour ago."
The CEO seemed unfazed. "Well, if they don't show, we'll just go to dinner ourselves. I don't think we'll have any trouble finding a couple of ladies to accompany us."
Ravenswood sighed. Michael always made it sound so easy. They had come to Bling City for a long weekend—a weekend filled with food, gambling, and women.
Fresh VeggiesIt was on such a blissful and quiet afternoon that the former parasite queen decided to go food shopping. She often found herself cooking for Louise, be it when she came home, or otherwise she’d take her meals to the lab if she was going to be working late. Mim didn’t mind either way, going to the lab meant she could see the children, which was always something that brought her plenty of joy.Fresh Veggies7 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her eyes scanned over her shopping list as she walked, pondering if she needed anything else for tonight’s supper. 3000 years of watching humans had definitely come in handy for cooking, she found she was quite good at it once she got used to modern appliances like the stove and mixer. She wasn’t too afraid of the sounds they produced in comparison to her arch nemesis the vacuum cleaner…
She smiled as she passed a mother walking with their child in the opposite direction. Mim never worried when going out in public these days. She dressed in a more traditionally human
Daily problems with the english language"You know, there´s that.... that...."Daily problems with the english language10 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Damn I know the german word but not the english word what do I do know...
".... eehhh....that... thingy... thing... stuff. You know the thing that makes things... flat."
- "You mean a compactor?"
".... if it´s a thing that makes things flat, yes."
"I need to know the english word for "Rasenmäher." "
- gets a dictionary and searches the word -
"Lawn mower alright"
- puts dictionary away, gets pen again and wants to finish the sentence -
" ... "I went outside and took the" ..... what was the word again?! F*CK YOU BRAIN!"
- has to search the word again -
"How do I pronounce that?"
- "No, Squirrel."
" Squirl... no... Sqirrl... Squi... Squirrel."
- "Yes, you got it!"
"Who the f*ck names that animal like that in english?!"
*f*cks up the sentence order and tense and verbs and literally all sentence structure on a daily basis*
"I´m sorry for this. Eng
RC9THGN 6The next few days were busy. Howard didn't bother Randy. The girls started to coddled Raphael, who took up to calling Randy his dad/brother. Randy got his grades up and achieved honor roll status. Earning the teachers respect and admiration. Even Howard started to up his grades to keep up with Randy’s sudden turn. It surprised Heidi, Debbie and the entire school. Theresa loved it. The Ninja had suddenly taken a liking to her and then Randy followed his example. Letting her watch Raphael whenever he needed the most. He even took her out on a date after the first week he and Raph started to run.RC9THGN 613 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was loving this attention. Raph was also too cute to ignore and Randy was always cute but now smart to boot. Even Heidi was starting to notice. It didn't bother her though. She wasn't gonna chase after Randy and didn't plan to rush him. As things were, she was happy and even so. She always had the ninja.
“Theresa?” Randy’s voice spoke suddenly.
The Note TGThe Note TG13 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hiro watched the bustling streets as cars passed and pedestrians walked. He loved the city, he loved the atmosphere, the new places to explore, and the way of life. Because of these reason he decided to live in a metropolis: Tokyo, Japan. He got up stretching from the hard bus bench he was sitting on and said, "Where to next." Hiro was 20 just graduated from college, he wore geeky glasses, messy blonde hair sat upon his scalp, he wasn't muscular nor athletic, he was school-smart which didn't make him good with girls. Yet he retained a positive attitude despite how bad his social life was. He did though work for Apple because of his Master Degree in Electronics at MIT which allowed him to travel to Japan for his job.
He sighed as he walked to his favorite restaurant; Ukaitei. On his way there a sudden gust of wind blew a certain piece of paper into Hiro's face.
"What the hell!" He exclaimed snatching the paper off his face. "What's this?" He wonde
Dream 2014-09-17This a.m. I had a dream. This the very basic version:Dream 2014-09-1714 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
An old friend of mine invited me to his party. It was "going to be fun, plus he had some business from a joint venture to discuss," He talked me into it after only a little jovial arm-twisting.
He had a big house and some good connections, but I didn't particularly dress-up. I really just wanted hang out with my pal, talk business, and get out of there early for the evening news.
When I got there my friend was very, or at least nearly very drunk, he was speaking cryptically about things I both uderstood and didn't. He handed me some old letters that he had written but never sent me. Some were vey thick and all were scrawled on their outsides with his handwiting. I thanked him, smiling, eager to read them later, but at the last second he took them back and put them in a drawer. Instead he took me to meet some friends. He both praised me highly and creatively, and cut me down, also
One Week at Wolf Lake: PrologueONE WEEK AT WOLF LAKEOne Week at Wolf Lake: Prologue14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
PROLOGUE: SUNDAY DRIVER
The evening air hung cool and still over the two-lane blacktop, bordered on one side by a steep forested hill and on the other by a guardrail. The silence was suddenly broken by a rumbling engine followed immediately by loud rock music. The engine noise was coming from a semi truck hauling a gleaming steel tanker with the words “Talbot-Lucian Chemical” in large blue lettering on the side. The rock music was coming from the cab, where Al Gearman had it blaring. He always turned it up louder on this part of the route—it helped take his mind off the steep cliffside leading down into Wolf Lake reservoir just beyond the guardrail. It was akin to the way people whistled while walking past graveyards. Without the music, he'd dwell on the fact that even a minor error could send the big, awkward vehicle sliding through the thin barrier and into the deep, cold waters of the lake. He h
Poet For Graves, the work he did was not mechanical. It was not the simple replacing and fixing of broken pieces. It was not soulless; it was not a just learned behavior.Poet14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
He was a poet, inscribing his work on living flesh and cold steel.
He was a god, creating a new world… or destroying it with a simple touch.
He could end them on that table in the old shed. He could extinguish them, write it up as fatal error, and no one would know. The thought had occurred to him one day as he held a knife over a quivering, hateful, heart.
He watched his own vitals reflect his nervous tension on a monitor, gave it a swimmy look. He didn’t have to use the knife. If he wanted to be kind, he could use the drugs lined up in neat rows around the room.
He took one look at arsenic, in the A section of the shelves, and he knew he could never do something like that. That was not kind.