Iron AvengersIron Avengers6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Iron Man sat in his Lab, checking Newscasts and reports
Super Villain this, Super villain that, the current avengers team was stretched , not counting the days where they have to go to outer space or across the globe to help others
There is a need for another team, but what Team.
Establishing West Cost Avengers didnt work well, and neither having two Avengers Team, then he found it, he should initiated Project Iron Avengers
Captain America didnt like it when he showed it to him before but he isnt here anymore.
So he Bring up the Iron Avengers Folder on his display screen, hmm first target to acquire The Wasp or Janet van Dyne, she shouldnt be hard
He invite her to a nigh at his condo which is hiding one of his many secret bases
While eating dinner he raises his watch and click and suddenly metal tentacles appear and hold Janet
What the hell Tony
This is for the good of mankind Janet, sorry
And sleeping gas is speared on her and she fall u
NyarlathotepNyarlathotep11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I exist in that vast swirling chaos
That lies between the planes.
Where Azathoth keeps the dread Black Book
That covertly keeps so many names,
All signed in blood. Nyarlathotep,
Envoy from that great and teeming madness
Vile tentacles draw the victim into blackness
And that insanely formless void.
An incessant, demented piping
Does fill that wretched realm.
Some grotesquely fabulous, inhuman flautist
Meagre mortal senses overwhelms,
With some mocking parody of music
That claws at the spirit and does hideously entrance,
Leading the soul in an unwilling, malformed dance
Through this maddening abyss.
Now what form of forbidden art
Hath brought you here to me,
To gaze upon such nameless things
As human eyes should never see?
Such horror! The nightmare circles close around you
And I, the crawling chaos, shall consume your mind.
For what resistance may your frail heart find
Before the monstrous throne of Azathoth?
So step forward pale dreamer
To make thine sanguine pledge
Innsmouth FolkThems queer folk up in Innsmouth,Innsmouth Folk7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As men do ear it tell
Thems not much for outsiders,
Nor for decent folk as well.
Tis a queer place up in Innsmouth,
neath smokey clouded skies.
With many a decrepit building,
With board oer its eyes.
Theres queer things up in Innsmouth,
Wot chatter an a bark.
And queerer things that leap and hop,
In Innsmouth after dark.
Theres queer fish up in Innsmouth,
As come in with the tide.
An pagan gods, an demons too,
An worser things beside.
Thems queer folk up in Innsmouth,
A spoutin heathen rites.
To evil things, up from the sea,
Out on the reef at night.
So dont you go to Innsmouth,
Dont you take another step.
For of wanderers into Innsmouth,
We aint had none back yet.
The Atheist's BibleAnd the Lord said, "Well, to be quite honest, I think you're all rather delusional."The Atheist's Bible7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Inanimate TF 1 - UndergarmentsMy name is Theodore. I'm an average teenage boy, in almost every way. Average strength, average dexterity.... The only things about me that AREN'T average are my video gaming "skills" (which aren't that much, but I do like to play games. The ones I DO play I master, because I stay at them for a long time...) and my intellect. I'm extremely smart. I don't think there's one puzzle game I haven't cleared on my first try. I love chess, and I play a lot. Of course, I WIN a lot, too, but...Inanimate TF 1 - Undergarments4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Or, at least, that's who I WAS. Now....
My name is Tamatha. I'm an average teenage girl, in almost every way. Except for my intellect. I love to play chess. I win a lot, but that doesn't matter. I like the challenge. Er, any small challenge that I get, anyway. I don't know. I just love the game!
Or, at least, that's who I WAS. Now....
Five days prior
That's right. I've had two lives. Within a few days. I found that first note a few days ago, in my room. As soon as I read my REAL name, everything flooded b
Gone AgainGone again,Gone Again4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
manic morning blue,
you're the one,
the only one,
I needed to see you.
All the words revolve
around the empty love.
The words, the words,
and the time.
how we lose it
(and lose you)
how we miss it
(and miss you)
when its gone.
It all means so much
it means all you left behind
is still here
waiting for me.
and what did you leave for?
Pretend no one knows, not even you.
I'll hear the name,
and see the face,
I'll know its you
but that can't fix
damage that's been done.
Out of FeelingIf I get to feeling lowOut of Feeling4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
play roulette with the gun in the table drawer,
wish we could,
wish we would
blow it away,
throw it all away.
We've all had our moments
and we've all had our days
where its been easier
to look away,
just look away.
GGaR - Going Out"A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it."GGaR - Going Out4 years ago in Romance More Like This
by Roland 'Jim' Lowery
Lillian awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. After three months, this was no longer unusual to her, so she considered simply ignoring it, turning over, and going back to sleep. She refrained for two reasons and two reasons only. First, she was well aware that if she ignored the call, some worse violation was going to occur. And second, she could also smell something burning, and that was something even she couldn't snooze through.
Suddenly as alert as she ever managed to be, she hauled herself out of bed and groggily wandered out of her bedroom. The coffee and burning smell was stronger out in the hallway, and they mixed together to form an even more noxious stench. Lillian pulled the front of her nightshirt up to cover her nose and mouth, though it only provided a ve
A guide to concert photographyA guide to concert photography4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
So you want to be a concert photographer? In the press pit with a few thousand hysterical fans directly behind you and your favourite band a mere few feet in front of you? Sounds exciting right? Well it is! But it is also very difficult to become an established concert photographer. This short guide will hopefully point you in the right direction and offer helpful tips and advice for your first steps into a career in music photography.
Getting a gig to shoot
First you need a gig to shoot and getting one couldn't be simpler. Start small by shooting local bands. Check free music publications and utilise Myspace to find any local bands that might be playing a free gig in your area. Always remember to introduce yourself to the band. Email addresses, telephone numbers or some means of contact can always be found on a band website or Myspace page. Whichever route you take make sure you let them know who you are and exactly why you will be shooting the gig.
why you don't love meI got yourwhy you don't love me5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and some how
Good MorningSomething warm sank onto the bed. "Wake up, Rose."Good Morning4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Rose shifted, burying her face deeper in the pillow. "Why would I do a silly thing like that?" she mumbled. Of course, since she was still half-asleep with a face full of pillow, it came out as "Whaidossillthinlikat?"
A soft hand brushed her hair back. "Because I am asking very nicely," her partner replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "And because you have overslept."
Rose's eyes snapped open, and she sat straight up in bed. Kanaya laughed. "Calm down. You are allowed to be less than perfect once in a while. Especially considering how late everyone stayed up last night for Dave's party."
The human fell back against the pillow, covering her face with her hands. "Was there really a five-way rap battle, or was that just some new hell cooked up by our favorite Elder Gods?"
"It was very real. Sollux recorded the whole thing, 'for pothteriity'." Rose could practically hear Kanaya's smirk. "I look forward to watching that one
Lick a LightbulbTry licking a light bulb.Lick a Lightbulb5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Taste how wonderful
unexpressed ideas are.
Online Roleplaying rulesAlright folks, seeing how it is more common than anyone would have ever wondered.Online Roleplaying rules8 years ago in Editorial More Like This
I decided to lay down some rules for you online Role Players(or RPers for short)
This will be put in a simple bullet styled format, with examples of what to do, and what not to do.
| General Role playing rules |
- At least make an attempt to spell a word correctly, that way you won't make it harder on the other person your playing with.
-- I cannot stress this enough people, TRY TO SPELL CORRECTLY!
--- If you don't know how to spell a word, use a computerized dictionary(or if you don't have one, use an online one)
- Use grammar, I will say this once again, USE GRAMMAR!
-- This is why you took english/whatever-language-your-nation-is in school, SO USE IT!
- Net speak is a complete and utter NO-NO!
-- Seriously, What the hell people, If your trying to come off as someone that's actually remotely useful
Too Tired to Say Your NameSmilingToo Tired to Say Your Name5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They'll all believe you.
[And maybe you will, too.]
The Skull: A Love StoryBuried beneath a debris of odds and ends - discarded carnival masks, willow patterned tea cups, toothless combs, and mauled little clown dolls - a curve of yellowed ivory, like an old woman's tooth, peeped. Smoothly translucent, surprisingly so, and he wondered if a bit of bleach upon an old toothbrush might not wear off the yellow sheen and convert it to a gleaming alabaster, like a bust of Nefertiti, and indeed there was something of Nefertiti to its cast, something exotic; a slant to the eye socket, perhaps? And he wondered, and pondered, and rubbed the cheekbone (zygomatic process, his mind faintly reminded him) and debated how much such a thing would cost him and if it really were for sale, in this dingy little secondhand shop, and wasn't it beautiful (stopping a passer-by), wasn't it unearthly beautiful?The Skull: A Love Story5 years ago in General More Like This
(The passer-by, not unexpectedly, cast him a glance of befuddled astonishment, and hastily backed away, nodding, into a rack of moth-eaten coats.)
And he clasped it to his chest,
Johnnie Walker's Man of FaithJohnnie Walker's Man of Faith4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Our preacher man sang the blues,
he told us not to fall to booze,
well he's been lyin' & taking the bottle to bed.
& he's got the saint's glassy eyes,
the thinned out veins of a high,
Johhnie Walker Red will get him by,
Walker's Red will get him by.
On his knees by the bed he prays,
on his bed the bottle lays,
beg for redemption & beg for a heart,
no such luck & no such start.
Our preacher man sang the blues,
early morning brought the news,
man found dead with a bottle in hand,
man found dead was the preacher man.
Lake of flame to make you moan,
burn and suffer, you bought your own,
While Walker's Red will get you by
you learn to live when you start to die
Why?Why?Why?3 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Why must I go on living? Why must I encounter torment every day of my life and accept it? Why?
That is the question many of us ask, us being LGBT people.
Not a day goes by when I don't hear the word "lesbo" or "freak", "queer," "dyke," "faggot," and so many more. And for what? Why should I have to endure that? Why should I just 'turn the other cheek?'
I don't know. I'm asking YOU.
I have tried to commit suicide countless times. I have scars all over my arms that I'll have for life, the doctors say. I used to cut, to bleed my tears, the warmth of the life of my body dripping down my skin.
The adrenaline rush. The blood. The pounding of my veins. This eternal headache that just won't go away.
That was my only hope. My only reason for living was to die. It became an addiction. It occupied my every thought. While I was at school I only wanted to do one thing- to cut and cut and cut until there was nothing left of me but a few scraps of skin and bones. I raided medicen
Empty Box I left a box on your porch the night before I broke up with you. It was cardboard, medium-sized, bigger than a breadbox, smaller than a refrigerator. There weren't any words or anything on it. It was blank. And empty.Empty Box5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There was a message on the answering machine when I got home from work the next day, and I knew it was from you but couldn't stand the blinking red light anymore.
If you had looked, which I'm sure you hadn't, you would have seen that the corners were battered, the edges were dirty. Maybe if you had understood, we would still be together.
A few years ago, when we first met, you gave me a box. It was small, black, hard. It was difficult to open and close; you had to be careful not to snap your fingers. Inside, on velvet lining, w
The Way of the Worldi mean the boys i know are not refinedThe Way of the World4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they are rather ruthless and unkind
but they are boys
the girls i do not know what they do
being a girl myself it is quite rude
to have not been told
but that is the way of the world
Holmes and WatsonLestrade had never, in all his years working alongside Sherlock Holmes, seen the man angry. Irked, perhaps; annoyed, definitely. Those were observed from quiet movements of the mouth and jerking of the eyebrows, and when Holmes's control was tenuous, heard in his tone of voice. Holmes was at best an understated echo of a human being. He did nothing in exaggeration save one: the expression of his inscrutably cold and calculating personality. Of that there was always an excess.Holmes and Watson5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes was angry now.
How it came about they were unsure. Dr. Watson had left to fetch something from 221B--his service pistol, if memory served. Mrs. Hudson reported some time later that Watson had never arrived. For a full day they saw neither hide nor hair of Watson, and Holmes was (perish the thought) stuck. There was literally no sign of him to be found.
And then some jaunty fool came in, and deposited Watson's hat on Holmes's table in the café. "Message for you, guv'na," the man said, and in th
Sherlock: Consequences IThe Consequences of Our ActionsSherlock: Consequences I4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"I am so changeable," Moriarty's voice echoed through the room, reverberating against the tiles, making it sound hollow. "You can't be aloud to continue You just can't."
The words did not matter. They could have been anything. It was the voice, that voice that seemed to crawl into your head and stay there, moving along the inside of your skull. Any of those things would not have mattered to Sherlock, he would not be intimidated so easily. Except Moriarty was something new. He could not judge his motivations, could not gage his reactions.
And the cold fear that crept up Sherlock's spine was starting to show on his face. His eyes betrayed it. His back was still turned to Moriarty, so he wouldn't see. But John saw. Sherlock looked at John. John's face was almost apologetic, as if this was somehow his fault. It wasn't a reasonable thought.
"I would try to convince you ," Moriarty's voice echoed through the hollow space. "But e
Holmes' PossessionIt has been approximately five hundred and sixty four days since the death of Mary Watson, and three hundred and seventy two days since Doctor John Watson moved back in with Sherlock Holmes in his apartment on Baker Street. Eight weeks ago, Watson began dating again, having to this point attended some twenty seven meetings with some fifteen women, only three of which Watson liked enough to invite home for tea.Holmes' Possession5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Not that Sherlock Holmes is counting.
The detective hears voices coming up the staircase and immediately seats himself in his favorite armchair, careful to open the paper to somewhere in the middle, as if he has been reading for a long time. The door opens, and his roommate enters with an unidentifiable woman at his shoulder. She looks like most of them, or at least the ones Holmes has seen; dark hair that curls slightly, a soft face, pale, deep-set eyes. And a frustratingly tight grip on Watson's arm.
Holmes halfheartedly looks up from his paper, just for show. He smiles at Wats
Sherlock Holmes- A Visit Watson walked down the street, cane in hand, towards his former home. It had been 3 months since he had moved out to live with his wife and he had finally given in to the whining of his former partner. He was going to visit Holmes for a week. He walked up the steps of the building and rang the doorbell. He waited a good 5 minutes and no one had answered. He sighed. Holmes must have given the servants a break, either that or they finally got sick of him and left. Watson was not sure which one. He opened the door with a harrumph, Holmes could have troubled himself to leave his room to open the door for his friend that he had begged to come visit. He went up the stairs to the eccentric man's room and opened the door to see it in its usual chaotic state. His friend was laying on the bed, with his head hanging off, looking at Watson upside down. His arms were in the air and put together.Sherlock Holmes- A Visit5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Cuff me" were the first words that came out of his mouth. His expression
First Week in Lincoln ParkIn the city of Chicago, it is extremely difficult to tell the difference between an insane homeless man, limping to a subway station in order to get his 8 hours, (with hourly interruptions to switch trains, and avoid being noticed at the end of the line) and a man, with a liberal concept of personal grooming, who sprained his ankle during his morning jog. They both have generally the same attire, mannerisms, and smell. They also have the same look in their eyes. They both look desperate, and exhausted. They both have a goal to achieve, but something insurmountable is standing in their way.First Week in Lincoln Park4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
The look on both of their faces is nearly identical, but the very slight difference accounts for very different meanings. The limping jogger's face says, "Why does home have to be so far away, I'm beginning to feel like I'll never get there. I wish I could just lay down and rest my ankle for a minute. In fact, I wish I could just forgo the whole the indignity of hobbling around