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Sorry for what? Last night, I looked out side into the cascading snow.There, stooped on a mound, was a creature. With arms and legs like any man but it was just too frail. Its shoulder blades looked close to tearing out of the pale mesh that served as its skin. Each rib was defined to a grotesque degree. It sat there, stark naked in the cold as snow covered its hallow shoulders.its face was hidden by its hands and what they held.
I covered my mouth at the sight of this morbid creature. As I did so, said creature presented its face to me.Slowly his body unfurled as he turned on the loose snow covered mound. lowering his hands and what they held. His face was elongated at the snout and held many sharp teeth. His skin was stretched over each sharp edge of his features.The pale flesh was so tortuously tight around his illuminated eyes that I surely believed he could not close them.His hair hung in dirty mats around his face and over his dark eyebrows. So much like &
A Hero full of Pride It's a shame to see something so strong at it lowest. It's a shame when you realise that the thing that you believe in the most is a mere human. Flesh and bone like you. The strength that, that one human holds is the strength of changing your world with their story. One slurred story fills your mind with wonders of days passed. One slurred story continuosly played forth, etches richly in your mind. All your hopes and dreams circle that one story.
The story is filled with such pride. So much pride that you feel proud to even repeat that story. So much pride that you weep at the loss of such a story. So Much Pride that the story seems unreal.
So much pride that the human who told it to you is not worthy enough to tell the story because they are a wreck , a mock of the hero. So much pride that it hurts to realise that it is a true story and that the time of the story has long passed.So much pride that it hurts to realise that no other being could possibly follow the same story line as
Amara and Red X's daughter, Justine
Some time into Red X and Amara's relationship, they have their own private marriage, a party Slade decided to crash < long story, for later > but ultimately couldn't stop. They couldn't defeat Slade in all his strength, but they did still exchange their marrriage vows & escaped together.
That night they concieved their daughter, Justine Marie.
Justine was born with her mother's mist abilities, sharpend by her father's whip-like intelligence.
This was good in that she was smart, but bad in that she was too quick to use her powers as a toddler. She thought that being able to use them so potently meant she would be able to use them any way she wanted. It wasn't long before she used too much & lost control.
She would use her powers in her sleep sometimes, b/c she never restrained herself. After almost killing her cat, Fallone, in her sleep she realized how it would be just as easy to hurt a real person. She became deathly terrfied of her powers, and tried to cut herself off from others. Am
What a Real Duelist Is...I gave it a lot of thought... So much thought for such a question that looks simple at first... "What a Real Duelist means?"...
It looks simple, yet nothing could be more complicated than that. It could mean that Real Duelist is a good Warrior... However can that be accurate? Being a good Warrior means that you defeat your enemies, you make good strategies to stop your opponents...you protect your comrades and subordinates in battle.
However is that enough?
No. Real Duelist is deeper. Does it mean beaing a good Friend? Protecting your friends, putting their safety above yours...save them no matter the cost or whatever damage you take yourself...
Even that though doesn't satisfy me. Real Duelist. What does that mean? Aibou...Jounouchi made me the question many times and no matter what advice I gave them, the question still remains without actual answer. What is a Real Duelist?
Perhaps it means being a good Fighter. Never give up no matter what the challenge. Trust in yourself no matt
For your mindWinter.... It was cold and snowy day. The school ring ended the lessons. All kids tried to put there coats as fast as they can and runs from school to out side where they could play snow war. All kids was happy. Only one didn't been happy with snow....
It was a shy girl. She had a short light brown hair and caramel color eyes with blue ring around cornea. She always smiled fake smile...always shaking...always alone. Her name was Goi.
Teacher yelled to her: It is just a snow Goi! Go home now!
She flinch from surprise. Goi nods and and goes to exit door.
She checked two exit doors to avoid others students but doors was locked. Goi was standing in-front the last and main doors.
Behind them was standing few her classmates and other students from hire classes.
Goi opens doors and with fast steps walks by way to home. Unfortunately she was attacked ....
When it was over she was lied down in snow all shaking from cold. Her bag was in snow with all her studding materials scatter arou
This mysteriously quiet boy knows everything about Amara's past... b/c he was there.
This is Amara's brother, Ruu.
After the things he's seen in life, if you can call it that, he's chosen not to speak unless it's absolutely required, & sometimes not even then.
He is like a barbed wire fence: just by looking at it, you know it could shred you even if you got tangled by accident, and it's mere presence is threatening.
He looks at people like they are bugs, small creatures that are beneath him, a sadness hidden behind his eyes.
He holds powers over the "dragon" in any object. Yes, there is a dragon spirit in everything , a "soul" that gives the object it's place in the world that is subliminally made up of otherwise intangible energy. Ruu can summon the dragon energy from an object and cast it in tangible enough a form to do his silent bidding.
This tells Amara something about her own powers. She always thought her smoke powers came from learning in Trigon's cult. Apparently, that's not s
What Are You Afraid Of?What Are You Afraid Of?
Well, this IS a sorry sight, now isn't it? There you are, six of the best and brightest that America's special forces can muster; well out of your jurisdiction, I might add, against little old me, and you're all just standing there, shaking in your boots. Why? What are you afraid of? You're all wearing state-of-the-art body armor, and holding such fearsome weapons; I see three M-16s, two MP-5s, and an AA-12. And look at me; while I am impeccably dressed, I fear that a well-tailored waistcoat offers very little ballistic protection, and all I have to defend myself with is this little fruit knife, as I happened to be peeling an apple when you fine fellows burst in. It's not as if this place could be set up with much in the way of defenses; this place is such a mess, I can't even rely on the power to work properly, the lights keep dying for no reason. See what I mean?
So what are you afraid of? Why on Earth would the five of you be scared of someone like me? Is it
How ghosts are madeHow ghosts are made
The rift between yourself, and yourself. There she is, a thousand miles
across the blue, our body's ping endlessly across the fibre. For I am a
man, and when I am here, empowered by the anonymity, the infinite of
numerical sciences that brought us the world of freedom we love, I am
still just a man. But, a voice across the voices is clearest in my hearts
eye; it is another person. She is my dream and day, my night and mare.
The love we feel, intense; physiological, emotional, connecting. Yet, as
I strain to live another day in my proxy, I often look up, the skies are the
azure gaze of heaven itself. They stare back, and in my world, they are
not the blue haven my beloved equal feels, I am here, under a gray quilt.
And while I pray she sleeps amongst the tendrils of a loving plentitude, I
am here, still. The house is always warmest when mine is not the only
exhale heard, even if it is chaos. It is the sombre tone of a solitude self.
For every step I take
Wonderbolt Road - Chapter FiveA year had flown by in the Wonderbolt Academy and the second academy year was drawing to a close. It was night time up in the Cloudsdale skies, pitch black and stars were all out. Meanwhile, Firefly and her partner, Rainbow Strike were studying for their end of year exam, situated snugly in their cabin, but concentrating hard. This was one half of their exam, and they would also do their physically exam next week, but their written exam was tomorrow afternoon. If they failed even one of them, then they would not be accepted into the Wonderbolts themselves.
“Oh man this exam is gonna be tricky tomorrow” Firefly pondered, reading a textbook about the history of the Wonderbolts.
“Don’t worry about it” Rainbow Strike advised “You’ve studied hard enough for weeks now, you’ll be fine”
“I don’t know I’m not really good at exams” The pink mare said pessimistically.
“You’ll do great! I bet you that you wil
Collection of thoughts and prompts.
Because words are the sharpest swords, the strongest bullets, and the most hurtful weapon. They are the most deadly and the worst thing is, they're always disregarded saying
"It's only words, they shouldn't hurt you." When in reality, sometimes that's all someone needs to push them over the edge.
"Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words with never hurt me." The biggest lie told. Words will always hurt me, it's so funny, because some believe leaving me feel empty and cold.
They were like lines, parallel lines set apart from each other. Always to see across the street but to never cross paths and perhaps that's how it should have been, but perhaps they were not parallel lines but the sun and the moon. Forever separate beings but able to cross paths more than once in a lifetime. Maybe though our eyes we see, only a day but maybe for them through their eyes, it's an eternity. And th
I had a heart once. I had a heart once. I don't know when I lost it, all I know is that it was sometime ago. I believe it happened while one evening I was touring the roads on my bike. Feeling the wind through my hair, hearing it as it roared by my bare ears.
I love the way the leather grips feel under my tight fingers, or how the motor purrs between my legs. The heavy intoxicating smell of sun heated tar of the road. I will admit the odd sharp speck to the face every time a lone bug collides with me in the rush is unsettling but the whole idea that I know I'm looking cool is enough to keep me calm. Yup, heart racing fast it was definitely still there.
I sped through a small town like the jackass I am. Making the women scream and the men yell. The buildings were nice. they looked old and kinda made the town look like it was made out of toys.A little tinker town where the people are always moving.yeah,but I sped through it. That's when I believe it happened.
Racing down the sea side run. Fee
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