Out of the Comfort Zone IIOut of the Comfort Zone II7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
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Hey Xull, I just got a call from ABC. They want you on Dancing with the Stars if you are interested.
Ronald Mills smiled past flashing cameras and tried to undermine the photographer by talking loudly. Neither man was giving the other any ground until their quarry started losing her focus. Finally the photographer called for a break and Ronald rushed forward to snag Xullraes attention before anyone else could.
Did you hear me? he asked breathlessly, his face beamed with excitement.
I heard you, Xullrae took a seat to get her makeup retouched, rather uninterested by it all.
So what do you think? Ronald pressed.
Ronnie Mills, my agent. He started my modeling career and handles all my public appearances. Oddly enough he doesnt do it for the money. I mean he does get paid, but he takes more enjoyment in claiming he discover
Dear Boss - Chapter 110th September 1888 - Whitechapel, London.Dear Boss - Chapter 14 years ago in Drama More Like This
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was shoved against a wall. Hard.
"Look at the pathetic little man, boys," sneered a voice somewhere above him.
If only they knew who I really am.
"Ha! He's not even fighting back!" The owner of this voice did not have the distinctive British accent.
If only they knew what I can do.
"Is that how they raise people outside the city?" He had a crude American accent instead.
If only they knew what I have done.
"Hey! Look up, Spic*! I want to see the look on your face while I beat you senseless!" The voice said, firmly gripping Antonio's collar.
If only they knew what I am.
Antonio looked up. His green eyes met the blue ones of the American. He wasn't surprised when he saw the American waver slightly.
Anyone could tell that his eyes weren't normal. Green eyes with flecks of gold don't usually occur in regular people. Regular mortals.
What was he? For the longest time, he himself d
Bardic Tales-Once a Slave 1Part One: SlaveBardic Tales-Once a Slave 17 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The dark-haired girl was only a slave. Else, as she finished the Lay of the Wandering God, one of the few songs she'd been permitted to learn, she might have ignored the older man, watching her oddly from a lonesome corner table of the inn.
But nay, I say nay
'E wanders t' this day
Weepin' fer 'is lost Cerua.
Granted, the tune wasn't something played often in an inn, but one of the custom had requested it special, and since Le knew it, Master Forson ordered her to play it so the freeman minstrel he'd hired could take a break. The song was beautiful but depressing, ending when the Wandering God Anoreil finds his human wife murdered. Le plucked the ending run, then silenced the strings and placed the instrument at her feet.
It wasn't the best version of the saga he'd ever heard, or the most skillful plucking on a kamischa. But despite the quick-spoken Clyonite commoner's cant, a quality in her voice made his eyes prickle before he tamped the reaction down. He wa