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Literature
Transience
To one so young, the world was a blur. Touch and sound made sense of the things her eyes could barely see. Her mind was stirred from the voids of rest by the curious voices around her. Kareena peered through her half opened eyes, her bright blue irises glimmering between her eyelids. In the warmth of their den, she felt sleepy yet curious of those around her. Both her brothers were there, but there were others here too. Their eyes did not glow like those who lived in her small little world. One bore a pair of brilliant green eyes that shone like a pair of glistering emeralds, the other bore eyes of common hazel which burned with a ferocity known only to a world far from hers.
“You guys got a mum?” asked Mycaelis curiously as he addressed Astinos and Stelios.  
Astinos shook his head sorrowfully. “No,” he sighed, “we lost her during the migration.”
Vagus felt a pang of remorse for the two brothers. "I'm sorry. Yea, our mum's gone too." 
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Literature
Difference
Vagus was lost. Laconian? Commoner? Abnormal? He drifted in a part of the world where the eye could not see, wandering paths unmapped towards destinations that turned to ash the moment he touched them. Where new horizons dawned only to fall into an endless night where he stood alone. This was his world now. A world of grey where he found no light or darkness, where he could find only one word that could define the person he was: A disappointment. Not Laconian. Not a commoner. Not an Abnormal. A disappointment.
Vagus often realised that he was not much different to Mycaelis at all, they both bore an intense hatred for something. Mycaelis hated weakness as it was taught to him by his father, but Vagus hated something far more spiteful than weakness, he hated hope. He hated it when it compelled him onward with false grandeurs and promises, deluding him with scenarios of what could be, and destroying him time and time again when it cast him into the bottomless pit that was reality. In a wa
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Literature
Existence
The air was still upon entering the glade. The forest brush and trees gave way to reveal a wall of glowing blue eyes that gazed at the three entering strangers. The Abnormals, Pokémon of all kinds, gazed at Marvin when he entered with Mycaelis and Vagus in tow. He had been here more than a dozen times, but the greeting he received had always been cold. The native inhabitants of Oat; reduced from once continent sprawling clans to now small isolated tribes that cowered in the darkest recesses of their ancient land.
Marvin was never one to ask for a warm welcome from them. They had every right to treat him with suspicion regardless of how many of them he was able to feed with his occasional tribute of berries. With Abnormals, friends amongst outsiders quickly became impotent when they were faced with the overwhelming pressures of a murderous lynch mob.
It wasn’t long until the Abnormals dispersed and went about their own business, content with the fact that the outsider was som
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Literature
Abhorrence
There was once a time when Marvin was young, yes, indeed there was such a time. It was when he was but a child who, like all children, feared tales of monsters conjured up by their young imaginations or their parent’s machinations. Those nasty creatures - the ones that hid under beds, in closets, in basements, in all the places that were dark and scary or where grownups said not to go. But for Marvin, he learned quicker than most of his long gone childhood friends were monsters truly dwelt. 

He was paddling down a river one summer’s morning, a brisk swim around Oat Lake.  It was the sort of morning that made one glad to be alive, but for a child such as himself, it was just another splendid, carefree day, where the world seemed so much brighter and where his worst problems stemmed from his brothers eating all the sitrus berries for breakfast.
It was drifting down this lake that Marvin saw him, a lone Absol.
Marvin had never seen one before in per
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Literature
Providence
Marvin sighed and idly wandered up the stone steps to the cavern’s land entrance. He made it to the tunnel that led to the surface and grumbled in annoyance when his feet sank into the familiar feeling of mud and water. The storm was still raging and its downpour was flooding the tunnel. It never did have any proper drainage for all the water. Nearing the entrance, Marvin gazed up at the sky and noted that the downpour wouldn’t be ending any time soon. He clenched his injured arm and barred himself against the bite of the howling wind.
“Sssay,” came a voice that managed to hold itself above the howl of the storm. The head of an Arbok slid closely into view. It eyed Marvin with a pair of sinister yellow eyes and Marvin eyed it back not in the least startled by it. “Sspare me a refuge in your den, old Marvin? A cursed tree all but crushed mine.”
“Crushed yers?” scoffed Marvin. “Yer spake as though yer had wan ter begin with, Thrax.
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Literature
Innocence
Silence filled the empty home long after the intruders had gone. The window shutters flung open, the door caved in. The table and plates were shattered, the armchairs destroyed, blooming flowers of cotton from their ruptured fabric. From the door and past the living room, the floor was slick with fresh blood. 
Every so often, this horrid vision would play out before Marvin. 

Crying, someone he once loved was struck down and slammed. The children watched on in horror, frozen in place as their young eyes watch on. What else were children to do when their mother couldn't scream for them to run? Her mouth was held shut by a hand made from steel, her teary eyes trying to speak for her. Before their voice could be heard, the floor was already awash with blood. The terrified children stood paralyzed in place, not knowing what to do. Fate decided for them and sent a pair of blades to slit their throats. One and one, and then they stood no more.
She wat
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Literature
Benevolence
This world was a big place. Bigger than anything that Vagus the Totodile had ever known in his life. The fields seemed to go on forever, and the sky was so plain and vast that Vagus feared he would fall into it if he gazed up at it for too long. Such was a phobia developed when one spent their lifetime under the thick canopy of a jungle. Vagus had never seen the sky so clearly and never knew it was so vast. Then there was the silence, the sort of silence one hears when out in the middle of nowhere with nothing around to create any noise. The jungle was always full of noises, those that were familiar and those that seemed strange. Silence rarely ever came, and whenever it did, it was during the horrifying nights like the one that had claimed the lives of his parents.
Vagus looked around him while he and his brother, Mycaelis, walked the rolling plains. There was no road and the sheer emptiness around them made Vagus feel exposed and anxious. If he had proper claws, he would have dug him
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Literature
Amongst The Dead
The apocalypse had come. The world as we know it is awash with The Undead.  A man, and his family of four; a wife, a daughter, and a son, travel the Zombie strewn roads of isolated country. Their vehicle, an old pickup which had seen better days, served as their only means of transport and sanctum from the hordes of the un-dead that drifted by.
The pickup, worn down by time and service to the family, ran its last mile. With a crack and a pop, steam as black as rotten flesh drifted from the hood, and brought the vehicle to its final place of resting. The man, his face bearded and eyes swollen from many nights of sleepless driving and vigilance, gave a sombre sigh.  
To him, looked his wife, and he, to her. They ignored the sight that beheld them outside the windows, for they knew what was already there. The road, awash with The Undead, had already begun to seal the fate of the pick-up’s passengers. The horde was closing in. Moving about on severed limbs and broken bones,
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Literature
Conclusions (6/6)
Death is something that is always thought of as silent. Dead men tell no tales, dead men make no noise; they remain silent as the grave. There are even those who are said to pass peacefully. For Mycaelis and Vagus, death was never silent. They had both killed as they lived in a world where one must kill or be killed themselves. Never once could either sibling recall an occasion where death had been silent.
Death is the screams of agony as flesh is torn from broken bones, the howls of pain when entrails are split upon the ground. The cries for mercy, the shrieks of horror, the gurgling sound of someone drowning in their blood.  Then come the sounds of those that behold death’s work. The screams of terror, the gasps of disbelief, the wailing of loved ones as they grieve for their loss.
As Mycaelis and Vagus sat silent in that hovel in the jungle, they could hear Death outside, and it was far from silent. The screams of those attacking monsters assailed their ears to no end. Mo
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Literature
Shadows (5/6)
‘They were attacked,’ whispered Vagus, looking over his shoulder at Mycaelis.
The Charmander snorted. ‘It’s Prismatic Jungle, Vagus. Everyone gets attacked.’
Frustration began to creep into Vagus’ nerves. He had long grown used to Mycaelis ignorance. He had lived with it for so long it seemed as though Mycaelis was simply born ignorant. But now Vagus was reaching the end of his tether.
‘You don’t understand,’ Vagus held back the urge to yell, knowing it would alert his parents. ‘There is something out there hunting them. Hunting us.’
Mycaelis grinned. ‘Let ‘em come. Been a while since I last saw mum and dad spill some guts.’
‘They barely escaped with their lives. Didn’t you see how exhausted they were?’
‘Nope,’ he turned away. ‘Now, how ‘bout you shut yer gob and look this way. Like you’re supposed to be doin’’
Vagus sighed, conceding once agai
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Literature
Visitors (4/6)
Left, right, right, left, left right. The amount of movement involved in this exercised perplexed Vagus to no end. His father was a colossal brute, the sort of fighter who would have powered his way through a foe’s meagre defences to literally tear them limb from limb. But the way in which Mycaelis had been trained to move was something else entirely.
The Charmander moved with such grace, precision and speed that he was almost an orange blur before Vagus’ eyes. Vagus’ legs simply couldn’t move him fast enough. The only purpose they seemed to serve was keeping his body upright while Mycaelis pummelled him in an endless stream of bone shaking strikes.
Vagus’ legs finally gave way, allowing Mycaelis to deliver a swift kick to the bottom of his jaw and flipping him falling onto his back. Vagus tasted a hint of copper in his mouth and grunted.  They had been at this for many hours now.
‘See.’ Mycaelis grinned, standing over him. ‘You are
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Literature
Brothers (3/6)
There was a certain joy for Vagus when he was left home alone. Although being strictly forbidden from moving any further than the meagre boundaries set around the small house, Vagus was able to feel a sense of freedom. The borders of his small world may have not stretched far and wide, but they seemed to stretch a lot further whenever his parents were absent. His shoulders felt lighter now the burden of his father’s disapproving gaze had left him, and his arms seemed more mobile without his mother’s chains of iron discipline. For this short while, he was free, or at least as free as he would ever hope to be.
Vagus turned to his brother, Mycaelis, who sat perched on a nearby rock. The young Charmander was making a freakishly fast recovery since his awakening some hours ago. His more severe cuts had been covered and bruises lathered with ointment. Mycaelis had torn most, if not all, of the makeshift bandaging from his body; his pride simply didn’t allow it to be present
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Literature
Expectations (2/6)
There was always something new to be learnt here in this makeshift hovel that lay deep within this forsaken jungle. Many would say that life for Vagus the Totodile was not good enough for him, but it was his father who would say that it was Vagus who was not good enough for life. His father; the one he who ruled as king of Vagus’ small world had declared him useless and thus he conceded that he was indeed so. 
Life had no room for weakness and weakness was all that Vagus had to offer. Vagus had seen firsthand what happened to those who were weak, the creatures of this jungle that were foolish enough to challenge his father. A Salamence, despite boasting the attributes of a freak of nature, lay torn to pieces in a nearby clearing. A pair of Rhydon, who attempted to intrude upon his father, lay with their rock like chests shattered and insides strewn on the ground. In the very hut which he sat, the skulls of an Aggron, a Haxorus, a Dragonite and several Tyranitar adorned the w
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Literature
Monsters (1/6)
A new day brought with it another bout of pain, another set of bruises and more long hours of bleeding and sweating under the jungle’s humid canopy.  Left , right, back, back, back, right, another right, quick left, quick right…not quick enough. Crack! Bells were ringing in Mycaelis’ head when it collided with a thick tree trunk. The shock of the impact was just as familiar as the pain of splinters digging under his skin.
All familiar and all reoccurring, it was part of yet another training session with his father. For years in the jungle Mycaelis had been beaten down, and for years more he had always gotten back up to be beaten down again.
The cycle was endless and had only but one goal: To destroy who Mycaelis was in order to pursue perfection. A soul was but one of many flaws he had been born with that needed to be remedied. To his father, a soul was an imperfection, a defect, a sickness, one that kept a healthy Charmander like him from reaching his fullest po
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Literature
Hail The King!
Perhaps it was the waves of streamers that filled the air, or maybe the small ribbons of shredded wrapping paper that lay strewn across the floor. Maybe it was the thoughts of a huge delicious cake, the sweet-cream icing flowing around the edges and enticing all who would look upon it. No matter what it was that afternoon, there was always something that brought a smile to Flint’s face.  
“Happy Birthday!” came the cry as Flint returned home that day. The cry was quickly followed by a barrage of confetti signalled by the commanding pitch of party whistles. The sheer sight of those before him seemed to leave Flint in dire need of a cheri berry.
His dazzling eyes blinked like giant gems of amethyst, struggling to perceive the clouds of confetti and flowing streamers before him.  Two surprise guests stood before him. Their heads were wrapped in scarves of their own, paying tribute to Flint’s super-awesome sense of dress style and the fashion trend that would someda
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Team Spartan E7 (Present 6/6) ''Vagus' Letter'' by slydragoon16 Team Spartan E7 (Present 6/6) ''Vagus' Letter'' :iconslydragoon16:slydragoon16 15 41

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Sly
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:iconfuryborrow:
furyborrow Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2018
can i has 1 picture ?
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:iconziradakota:
ZiraDakota Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, Sly! :)
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:iconsweetypoke:
SweetyPoke Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2018  Student Artist
Happy Birthday! x3
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:iconcalvin286:
Calvin286 Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2018
HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND TODAY SPECIALS, we hav- *Interrupted* (Mysterious man: We've meet again... Chan-san) ('oh no, that voice...') *turns around* (Amon, I don't have time to deal with you. Can't you see I'm with a customer who's having a birthday?) (Amon: I'm afraid I must end your journey, ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!) ('WHA?' M-Motherf**ker, I don't even want to get involved in your... whatever you called it, didn't I even told you the first time we first met? That I'm taking your challenge as a one-time thing? Look at me, I'm a waiter working in this luxury restaurant, for christ sake! I'm not a f**kin threat to you or your... Amon Clan or whatever) (Amon: That means that you are determined to end us all...) (I'm not even pla-... F**k it, Let get over with this sh*t) *ADVANCING TO BATTLE: www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3WDoc…
()=for japanese
''= thoughts
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:iconmegamixstudios:
MegaMixStudios Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday! happy DA B-day :3 
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:iconrobinstic:
Robinstic Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2018
Congratulations, Sly! Have a great birthday :party:
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:iconedwars1999:
Edwars1999 Featured By Owner Edited Jan 21, 2018  Student Digital Artist
Happy Birthday, Sly!! :D

I hope you have a wonderful day (if it's with HL, even better ^w^) and all your wishes come true! :3

P.D: Check your FA for a surprise ;3
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:icontlsupernoob:
TLSuperNoob Featured By Owner Nov 28, 2017
Say some love to Haychel and u ~~ :3
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:iconblazionspring:
BlazionSpring Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2017
Hello there! Not sure how or why I took so long, but you're a PMD fan, yes? If so, I think it's about time I added you to my watch list. :)
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:iconalbatross-cp:
ALBATROSS-CP Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Sly, if you have a moment in the near future, I have a question for you. I don't know where else to go to ask it, so I've decided that here will do. I could probably ask any number of people, but after reading your work and the stories you've made, I've chosen you.
Congratulations.

After giving much thought as to how I may improve myself as a writer, I have created an account to post stories and the likes. However, this has raised a number of concerns within me, and if I can't get answers for the questions created from this then the stress will swell up in my throat until it explodes, leaving me a bloody mess on the floor.

It is apparent to me that there is a chance you won't respond at all, and that my comment will appear silly to all who read it, but I feel like I need to at least try to get an answer to my simple, and probably ridiculous, problem.

I will state my question once a response is made, so that the probability of me receiving an answer is larger.

Or my comment will be ignored and I'll be viewed as a madman who's trying way too hard to sound professional.
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