Do you ever feel like a movie is probably based on your real life?
Because that was what was happening Takato Sunakawa. A popular movie was released that weekend, and he had the bright idea to go see it! Of course, he wasn't going to go and see it alone, who goes to see movies alone? Lame. So he had invited his best friend since childhood, the bird himself, Yamato Uzuki, to go with him. Heck, they even got dinner before going to the movie theater, just to make it worth it. They event went to this cute little sort-of-fancy-but-still-fast-food place to eat, where Takato (further, Kyo) bought Yamato a heaping helping of honey walnut shrimp.
Dark one asleep in a coffin
with dreams of a dead man plottin'.
Along comes a party
insisting he become hearty
though to memories he'd rather be floppin'.
On their wayward journey he joined.
Through the game's fame he coined
the original "Bullet for my valentine" -
and the ever popular "Yuffientine" -
At Hojo he shot with revenge, and rejoiced.
Panders to tall, dark, and emo
with arguments: Vincent, or Binsento?
"Vincent what are you doing,
turn around you idiot camera-- oi."
From fanservice mistakes, the remake may grow.
May 4, 3019, and the mailing system on Pluto was almost fixed. "Really sorry 'bout this," the Chief said for what was probably the twentieth time in as many minutes.
It had been down for well over an Earth-month, which out here in the middle of frigid cold land extreme Solar System was only three or four days. Not a lot of people noticed out here, though. Extreme isolation and a love for the cold had some two-hundred different beings inhabiting the dwarf planet, flooding to it once it was obvious in the mid 2500s that planets not their home origin could be lived on and inhabited. Why people picked this iceberg of a rock in space, where its o
Annelise was a beautiful name, and she happened to be a beautiful woman. When she picked herself up into the black van that had stopped at her Compound to pick her up, Esper sat up against the other side, grasping to the arm rest with two small hands. His eyes were wide as Annelise adjusted herself in the seat beside him, tugging at the shorts she wore to cover more of her leg, frowning down at the v-cut of the shirt she wore. It was a warm day in the west, and even under the air conditioning of the van, her pale skin glistened with faint perspiration.
She caught Esper staring as she put on the seatbelt, and a uniformed attendant rolled the
Twilight. A time of orange hues, the drone of cicadas, the setting sun, summer, laughter. At least, it was before. Now the sun was always painted like fire in the sky, the clouds plumes of smoke and the blue cadence of joy and happiness above was an angry red or a burnt orange. There was no such thing as day, and there was no such thing as night. There was only eternal twilight.
Eir’s feet were no longer bare as she darted around the abandoned streets and among cars. No, at the onset of the nuclear fallout that interrupted everything, she had learned that going to the surface without her armor was a terrible idea, especially when she r
Imagine a place so alive it must be a paradise. First, picture the trees. Tall columns of dark, slickened bark like undergrown giants, large beyond all reason. Every space is filled with life: the croaks of little frogs from nearly every pad of green, the ripples on the puddles or hidden spots of water as they leap into the safety of underbrush. Above and between, vines and branches clutch to each other, reaching for a shaft of sky’s light. The songs of birds. A twitch of fur at a trunk hole. Single file ants biting at the giant’s feet and peeling it away in miniscule pieces to rebuild and feed their hungry queen. But, in reply, s
“Ugh, it stinks-”
“Don’t make such a fuss, Cato -- your sister went to a lot of trouble to get this for you.” Imperious, his mother stands over him with a slathering of some milky white thing on her fingers. Her other hand daintily pinches her nose to keep the offending odor away.
She smears some of the substance against an angry red wound on the teen’s arm, lathers it in, and ignores how he squirms and gags as the laceration stitches together and scars over under the ministrations.
“What did she do, dive into the toxic slums of the City and go swimming in the sewers with the rats?”
A blade glints in the dim light of the back alley.
I’ll take good care of you.
Black Market News headlines detail a scene of filth and fairy dust.
“Dust thief?” The paper ruffles, before it falls with a smack to the desk in front of me.
“Third hit in as many weeks, boss.”
The Black Market.
Mortals whisper of it as a type of illegal online network where many illicit items change hands for insane amounts of money. The gossip and rumors are only partially correct though: the front that only outsiders see.
Ever glance at a city’s alleyway, and think about how dark it looks? How trashed it seems, how
I really loved the introspective dive into Link in the moments at the end of OoT before jumping into Majora. OoT had a pretty big stamp on my heart, too, so I was glad someone did Zelda for the contest.
Honestly, I just love your writing <3 keep up the good work~