xinxue
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- Posted: Mon, 25 Nov 2013 08:26:04 +0000
This is actually a yaoi (boy on boy) fanfiction. There's just none of that action yet... if you know what I mean. Anyways, this is what I've got down so far and I'd love to hear some opinions. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors please tell me; usually I don't see my own mistakes.
Description
There were three rules that Dirk Strider, an experienced assassin, set up for himself through years of action. Three rules that should never be broken. One, never let your personal feelings get involved, all of that stayed home. Two, never fall in love, especially with the target. Three, always trust your gut, your gut is always right. But Dirk Strider breaks two of his three rules when he is hired to assassinate John English, and he sure as hell wasn't going to break all three.
I'm not going to call this chapter one because it's not finished yet so yeah this is the title.
It was a crisp autumn evening when Dirk Strider took a step into a restaurant that was obviously highly prestigious. Dirk quickly adjusted his orange vest that was layered on top of his white dress shirt before checking in for his reservation.
“Your last name, sir?” the uniformed male asked with a voice that seemed almost sarcastic. Dirk slightly raised his eyebrow at the host’s tone and was going to comment on it, but decided against it.
“Strider,” Dirk replied casually. He watched as the host flipped through the book of reservations, skimming swiftly through the pages until he came to a halt.
“Dirk?” the employee asked, holding back a chuckle.
“Yes, that would be me.” Dirk answered calmly even though his brows furrowed with annoyance beneath his anime shades. The immature host said nothing more, escorted Dirk over to a table reserved for two, and left after filling a duet of glasses with ice and water. “Shitty service,” Dirk mumbled to himself.
He sighed and carefully patted his blond hair that was gelled into spikes an hour prior, to make sure they were still in place. He could feel the eyes of every high-class egoist in the room just glancing over at him, however, this did not bother him at all. In fact, Dirk was actually used to this kind of attention since he always went around wearing one of the boldest colors ever.
Orange.
Today, he wore an orange vest on top of a white dress shirt which had its sleeves rolled up halfway up his thin, yet toned arms. His lower half donned black dress pants and shoes. Pinned to his vest was a single black rose, and just to add a few more bold points, he had his anime shades on. It wasn’t every day you saw someone dressing up like Dirk Strider.
The blond took a sip of water from the glass then glanced down to his wrist to check the time. The watch displayed that it was 7:32 p.m. His client was late. Dirk was a man that loved showing up fashionably late. His client had her appointment scheduled at 7:25 p.m. sharp, and Dirk showed up about five minutes late just to find out that his client hasn’t even arrived yet. The time was ticking away as well as Dirk’s patience. Sitting at a table reserved for two all alone in a classy restaurant was definitely giving off the impression that he has been stood up.
Having little patience left, Dirk rose from his seat and began towards the exit. “Oh sir!” a waiter called, “Leaving so soon?” he asked with eyes pleading for the blond to stay. Dirk found this very annoying. Just then a woman hurriedly rushed into the restaurant.
“I’m with him,” the woman said to the host and pointed her finger at the now agitated Dirk. She worked her way over to Dirk and the worried waiter, “I’m with him,” she repeated and the waiter nodded, handing each of them a menu. Once they were both seated and settled the woman spoke up, “I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“It’s fine,” Dirk answered slowly. He found himself examining the woman. She wore a raspberry red halter dress with a heavy fur coat layered on top. Her fingers, ears, and neck were covered in ostentatious jewelry that sparkled whenever the light hit them. Her lips were concealed with a scarlet red lipstick, and it complimented her jet black hair that fell just below her shoulders nicely.
Dirk watched as she carefully placed her mouth on the glass of icy water that was poured for her, avoiding getting her lipstick on the glass as much as possible. Dirk found this extremely tedious. “Anyways,” he said abruptly, “can we get down to business now?” he laced his fingers together and nested his head atop them. He didn’t have all day.
“Oh yes of course Mr. Strider.” She said a bit flustered. “My name is Dana Donovan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Dirk nodded slightly, allowing Dana to continue. “Please allow me to apologize again. I should’ve known better than to keep you waiting. From what my sources told me, you’re one of the most dignified assassins in the country. You have my sincerest apologies, Mr. Strider.” she bowed her head.
“I told you, it’s fine. And let me tell you just a little about myself. I don’t like repeating things I’ve already said,” Dirk spoke with a somewhat cold tone. Dana silently gulped. “So you had someone look into me?” He asked.
“Oh yes. Of course I did. I’m sure you would understand that I don’t want to waste money on someone who wouldn’t be able to get the job done.” Dana said in a matter-of-fact voice. The blond male chuckled.
“I understand well, Mrs. Donovan. Alright, so who is the guy, the one, the target?” he questioned. Dirk saw Dana’s eyes darken as she reached into her beige bag and pulled out a photo of what he assumed was the subject. “This is him,” she announced in a voice only audible for the two of them, and slid the picture over to Mr. Strider who sat eagerly, impatiently waiting to see his assigned prey, “I don’t care how you kill him just make sure he’s dead."
Dirk inspected the picture of a dorky looking fellow amusingly. Here he was in a classy restaurant filled with wealthy, stuck up people, just to be informed that his new target was a dork that looked no older than twenty five. The male in the image appeared to be average height; he was surely no taller than 5 feet 8 inches. His hair was black and was messily styled. He wore a black suit with a forest green tie and a pair of glasses sat snug on the bridge of his nose. Dirk couldn’t help but chuckle at the man’s appearance. He seemed like an easy target.
“His name is Jake English.”
Description
There were three rules that Dirk Strider, an experienced assassin, set up for himself through years of action. Three rules that should never be broken. One, never let your personal feelings get involved, all of that stayed home. Two, never fall in love, especially with the target. Three, always trust your gut, your gut is always right. But Dirk Strider breaks two of his three rules when he is hired to assassinate John English, and he sure as hell wasn't going to break all three.
I'm not going to call this chapter one because it's not finished yet so yeah this is the title.
It was a crisp autumn evening when Dirk Strider took a step into a restaurant that was obviously highly prestigious. Dirk quickly adjusted his orange vest that was layered on top of his white dress shirt before checking in for his reservation.
“Your last name, sir?” the uniformed male asked with a voice that seemed almost sarcastic. Dirk slightly raised his eyebrow at the host’s tone and was going to comment on it, but decided against it.
“Strider,” Dirk replied casually. He watched as the host flipped through the book of reservations, skimming swiftly through the pages until he came to a halt.
“Dirk?” the employee asked, holding back a chuckle.
“Yes, that would be me.” Dirk answered calmly even though his brows furrowed with annoyance beneath his anime shades. The immature host said nothing more, escorted Dirk over to a table reserved for two, and left after filling a duet of glasses with ice and water. “Shitty service,” Dirk mumbled to himself.
He sighed and carefully patted his blond hair that was gelled into spikes an hour prior, to make sure they were still in place. He could feel the eyes of every high-class egoist in the room just glancing over at him, however, this did not bother him at all. In fact, Dirk was actually used to this kind of attention since he always went around wearing one of the boldest colors ever.
Orange.
Today, he wore an orange vest on top of a white dress shirt which had its sleeves rolled up halfway up his thin, yet toned arms. His lower half donned black dress pants and shoes. Pinned to his vest was a single black rose, and just to add a few more bold points, he had his anime shades on. It wasn’t every day you saw someone dressing up like Dirk Strider.
The blond took a sip of water from the glass then glanced down to his wrist to check the time. The watch displayed that it was 7:32 p.m. His client was late. Dirk was a man that loved showing up fashionably late. His client had her appointment scheduled at 7:25 p.m. sharp, and Dirk showed up about five minutes late just to find out that his client hasn’t even arrived yet. The time was ticking away as well as Dirk’s patience. Sitting at a table reserved for two all alone in a classy restaurant was definitely giving off the impression that he has been stood up.
Having little patience left, Dirk rose from his seat and began towards the exit. “Oh sir!” a waiter called, “Leaving so soon?” he asked with eyes pleading for the blond to stay. Dirk found this very annoying. Just then a woman hurriedly rushed into the restaurant.
“I’m with him,” the woman said to the host and pointed her finger at the now agitated Dirk. She worked her way over to Dirk and the worried waiter, “I’m with him,” she repeated and the waiter nodded, handing each of them a menu. Once they were both seated and settled the woman spoke up, “I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“It’s fine,” Dirk answered slowly. He found himself examining the woman. She wore a raspberry red halter dress with a heavy fur coat layered on top. Her fingers, ears, and neck were covered in ostentatious jewelry that sparkled whenever the light hit them. Her lips were concealed with a scarlet red lipstick, and it complimented her jet black hair that fell just below her shoulders nicely.
Dirk watched as she carefully placed her mouth on the glass of icy water that was poured for her, avoiding getting her lipstick on the glass as much as possible. Dirk found this extremely tedious. “Anyways,” he said abruptly, “can we get down to business now?” he laced his fingers together and nested his head atop them. He didn’t have all day.
“Oh yes of course Mr. Strider.” She said a bit flustered. “My name is Dana Donovan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Dirk nodded slightly, allowing Dana to continue. “Please allow me to apologize again. I should’ve known better than to keep you waiting. From what my sources told me, you’re one of the most dignified assassins in the country. You have my sincerest apologies, Mr. Strider.” she bowed her head.
“I told you, it’s fine. And let me tell you just a little about myself. I don’t like repeating things I’ve already said,” Dirk spoke with a somewhat cold tone. Dana silently gulped. “So you had someone look into me?” He asked.
“Oh yes. Of course I did. I’m sure you would understand that I don’t want to waste money on someone who wouldn’t be able to get the job done.” Dana said in a matter-of-fact voice. The blond male chuckled.
“I understand well, Mrs. Donovan. Alright, so who is the guy, the one, the target?” he questioned. Dirk saw Dana’s eyes darken as she reached into her beige bag and pulled out a photo of what he assumed was the subject. “This is him,” she announced in a voice only audible for the two of them, and slid the picture over to Mr. Strider who sat eagerly, impatiently waiting to see his assigned prey, “I don’t care how you kill him just make sure he’s dead."
Dirk inspected the picture of a dorky looking fellow amusingly. Here he was in a classy restaurant filled with wealthy, stuck up people, just to be informed that his new target was a dork that looked no older than twenty five. The male in the image appeared to be average height; he was surely no taller than 5 feet 8 inches. His hair was black and was messily styled. He wore a black suit with a forest green tie and a pair of glasses sat snug on the bridge of his nose. Dirk couldn’t help but chuckle at the man’s appearance. He seemed like an easy target.
“His name is Jake English.”