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 Posted: Sat Jul 04, 2009 6:03 pm
New Prompt
6. 7.4.09: Circus
Instructions: 400 word limit
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 12:07 am
6.7.4.09: Circus Clowns have always been frightening creatures. The first clown should have been shot before it could become a fad in the circus. Just thinking about them sent a chill down Emma’s spine. Now here she was surrounded by nothing but clowns.
True, they weren’t dressed as clowns from a circus, but the children running and screaming their heads off were just as bad. It was her first day at this day care center, and it wasn’t going at all well. Little Tommy threw up all over the story rug in the middle of Three Little Pigs. The kids were in an uproar. Emma had to put them back under control.
The ringleader of this circus, her boss Penny, had stepped out to go buy more animal crackers for snack time. Clearly, story time was ruined for the day, and they had nap time before their snacks. How could she calm this ruckus down enough to get them to sleep?
Her feminine hand slid a lock of straw blond hair behind her ear as she thought this through. She couldn’t yell, that never accomplishes anything with these animals.
Think.
She stood as an idea flew through her mind and grasped the stool she had been sitting on. The light dangling from the ceiling flashed in her honey dew eyes. Emma flipped the stool and held it like a lion tamer. Her arm rose up in the air and brought down like the cracking of a whip.
Not all the kids noticed at first, but as she continued her charade each child began to turn one at a time and sometimes in groups as big as three. Ms. Oswald was acting strangely, and they couldn’t figure out why.
“Back, lions!” she called herding the children away from the carpet. They laughed as they listened to her falling onto all fours and roaring now and then. Emma felt the room melt away and become a giant tent. Twenty or more lions replaced the children, and she could hear the audience ooh and ah. All eyes were on her in the center ring. The great lion tamer!
She paraded them around awhile more before herding them back to their own cages. Nap time had arrived. The children knew it. As the last child closed their eyes, Emma collapsed on her stool.
“How was it?” she heard asked from the doorway.
“A real circus.”
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silentbreeze90 Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 9:36 pm
Ah, so it suddenly came to me to ask a question: a rather random question, and yet it does pertain to the thread. But anyways... so I was wondering... these things that we write.. do they have to be in the format of prose? Cause I had a sudden urge to write poetry and the first thing that popped into my mind was the beginning of a poem that was about a circus. Random, right? But what can I say? My mind works in mysterious ways that even I don't understand.
Alright... so you didn't actually reply... so I'm just going to take that as tacit approval to write whatever I want, including poetry, and hopefully you won't mind too much.
6. 7.4.09 Circus
Long long ago a bearded man, attire all of red,
Found in a lonely alley dark, a lion underfed.
Took her he did into his home, to feed her milk and meat,
Taking her in and training her to take her on the street.
"Monster!" they shouted "Stay away!" the fearful people cried.
"Monster and man," they called the pair across the cobbles wide.
Nothing they said would move the man appareled all in red;
Nothing they said would change his course, the path he chose to tread.
Training the lion day and night, training her in her sleep;
Never a day of rest until he'd trained her so it'd keep.
Far and away he taught his queen to roar and swipe on call:
He even taught his lion dear to dance upon a ball.
Then when he'd done, the lion did all that he bid it to;
He took her with him hoping he could sell her to the zoo.
But when he got there soon he found that sell her he could not,
And so he took her home again and thought and thought and thought.
He thought until he couldn't think, he thought 'til he turned blue
And finally he had a thought of what he was to do.
Taking her then, he bought a tent - as big as he could find -
Setting it up upon a hill where nobody would mind.
Selling his tickets to the folk who'd scorned him long before,
He had them pay to see the lion safely there perform.
"Circus!" they cried out joyfully: the first that they had seen
And so the man lived happily together with his queen.
((I was going to name it... but I couldn't find a name that I liked... so it's unnamed until I can think of a fitting name.))
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Posted: Fri Sep 18, 2009 7:49 pm
Important Notes: Ok, so, this is the piece I wrote for the Writing Contest a few months ago, which I never entered >.> mostly because it never got finished, as you can tell. You really don't have to actually grade this one, Enmy, because it is most definitely more than 400 words. XD But it fit in so well with the topic, so I'd figure I'd post it. It's most definitely not done. But yeah. Enjoy, I guess. <3
6. 7.4.09 Circus
He, unlike everyone else in the show, was not a “freak”. He was only extremely talented and well-trained. They called him TA, for “Trapeze Artist”, they all thought (no one needed to know his real name was Thaddeus Arnold).
He met them all on the night of his first show. There were your classic circus standards- a bearded lady, a strongman, a sword-swallower, a tricycling midget, a few shabby wild animals, yes, but Ringmaster Larry had also acquired a few genuine oddities over his years. A troop of Oriental girls huddled together near the third ring, mumbling rapidly in some exotic language, ribs showing through each of their identical red spandex costumes. They were contortionists, the Ringmaster explained as he gave TA the grand tour of his new home, some of the best in the world. He had bought, yes, bought them from a desperate, over breeding couple in Beijing years and years ago.
The stories of the other freaks were equally sad. “Elephant Man” (his real name was Johnny), had always had a massive growth hanging from his nose, making it appear as if he had a long, bumpy elephant trunk. Three years earlier, a medical team had diagnosed it as a benign, yet inoperable tumor. TA shifted his weight onto his right foot nervously.
“What’s in there?” He pointed at a clouded, murky tank wedged in between the lion cage and the fortune telling booth. He expected some sort of rare or dangerous fish.
“Ah.” The Ringmaster paused, slightly annoyed that the newcomer had interrupted the riveting tale of how he had single-handedly captured and trained Rolf, the tap-dancing grizzly bear. “That is Lilah.”
“Huh...” Weird name for a giant jellyfish or whatever.
“Yes. The crowds know her as Fishgirl though.” The Ringmaster said with a wink.
“Fishgirl.” TA repeated slowly.
“Yeah. Hey! Wake up!” Ringmaster Larry’s gold cane tapped on the fiberglass tank sharply.
“No, no…you don’t have to wake her, it’s fine.” He meant it to sound courteous, but in truth the thought of “meeting” a “Fishgirl” terrified him.
“Oh no I insist. She’s a real gem, this one.” The cane rapped on tank wall again. “I’m lucky to have rescued her. Interesting story, that one…” The Ringmaster’s voice grew soft.
“Hmm?” TA always enjoyed a good story. The Ringmaster ignored his conversation invitation, his voice suddenly becoming dark.
“You can ask her if you want to know more.”
“What? Ask…ask her?”
“That’s what I said.”
“She can talk?!”
“……yes…”
The response was not the gruff, booming voice of the Ringmaster. It was erratic, yet musical, as if someone were strangling a wind-chime. And it came from within the tank. TA’s eyes widened; he took a step closer. The murk of the tank began to clear as a face, then a torso, then a whole body neared the glass from the other side.
The first time he saw her he thought she was a hoax. Elaborate stage makeup could create gills, and anyone could train themselves to hold their breath underwater for long periods of time, if they were dedicated enough. The webbed fingers were probably the by-product of some redneck in-breeding birth defect.
But…despite her eerie yellow eyes and mottled skin, she was not ugly. Far from it, in fact. She was perhaps one of the most mesmerizing creatures he’d ever seen. And he couldn’t look away.
“….I saw you today….” The lilting voice sounded again. Her lips did not move when she spoke, only parted slightly, letting a few bubbles escape.
“What.” He had not heard her. TA’s senses were busy, sound being put on hold for sight. His eyes devoured her. He had never seen anything like her before.
“…You looked like a canary…flying over me…”
She was talking to him. Oh.
He blinked.
“What?” It was a question now.
“…A canary…”
His costume was yellow-gold, with a cape of mustard-colored feathers. He suddenly felt very, very silly.
“…What’s your name? You know mine…” The yellow-lantern eyes seemed to glow at him through the fiberglass.
He hesitated.
“TA.”
“….What kind of name is that?” Her nose wrinkled, a few more tiny bubbles streaming out. Laughter?
“Mine…”
“Don’t get too attached…” The lanterns swiveled about nervously. “You’ll probably be called BirdBoy or something soon. Larry’s creativity is limitless.”
TA was lost for words.
“Where did you come from?” It wasn’t the most eloquent of questions, but he was curious.
The lanterns flickered, darkening for a moment before lighting back up.
“It’s a secret.” She giggled. More bubbles. A flash of green, and she was gone.
“She must like you!”
The voice came from behind him.
“What?” TA spun around. Johnny the Elephant Man stood near him, grinning beneath his trunk.
“Lilah never talks to anyone. First time I’ve ever heard her, and I’ve been here for a year and a half. Huh.”
The next day was his first show. It was a hot mid-Tuesday in early May, so the crowd wasn’t terribly intimidating. He stood, a canary atop his fifty foot perch, stretching his wings.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the newest member of our family- the AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, ASTOUNDING, BIRD BOY!”
She was right. TA suppressed a smile as his vinyl gloved hands gripped the steel bar of the trapeze. He jumped. He soared over the crowds’ heads, the bar the only thing separating him from death. And then…nothing.
He let go, a whole second of ecstasy passing like an eternity. He was flying, insubstantial manmade wings fluttered behind him as he foolishly tempted the gods. But he was no Icarus. He knew when to stop. The next trapeze flew out to him like a life raft. He reached out, and effortlessly grabbed on.
Hell, might as well give them their money’s worth.
Squaring his legs together, pointing his toes, and throwing his strong hips up, TA flipped himself over the trapeze and back down, coming full circle before landing solidly on the next platform.
And the crowd went wild.
Partly with astonishment, but mostly with relief, the cheered loudly until he climbed down and exited the tent.
“Well, wasn’t that just FANTASTIC? And now, another treat! Feast your eyes upon Madame LaRouche and her five DANCING TIGERS!”
The colorful heavy canvas swung shut as TA made his way out of the tent. He had questions that only he could answer. Something about all of this just didn’t fit…
Hi feet wandered until he reached a squat, unassuming building on the outskirts of the food court. The name plate on the door read LARRY OSWALD in official, business-like letters. Not what TA had expected from the Ringmaster, to say the least.
Everyone was still at the show. The food court was empty. He tried the handle. To the Trapeze Artist’s surprise, the door swung open, unlocked.
After a few furtive moments of sifting through the Ringmaster’s filing cabinet, TA came across a shabby manila folder stuffed in the back.
The show was almost over. TA glanced at his watch. He only had…five minutes.
He tucked the folder inside his costume and stole out of the office.
That night in bed, TA could feel the folder burning through his mattress. It was close to midnight, the lights outside his room were all off. He pulled the tempting envelope from under his bed, flicking on his bedside lamp.
The first page was a newspaper clipping. The picture showed a large, powerful-looking man being led into a police car in handcuffs. The date on was seventeen years old.
Illegal government testing…
….Unethical….
Animal hybrids….
Human experimentation…
Mutants….
TA let his eyes scan the page, quickly, as if afraid he would be caught at any moment. He turned the page. Another newspaper clipping.
Deemed inhuman…
Immoral…
Government cover-ups…
Pictures of men in biohazard suits carrying cages out of a building.
The flashlight flickered.
The last page in the folder was an old, tattered letter.
…Photograph?
TA shook the folder, newspaper clippings floating onto his bedspread. No photo. …unless…
He flipped the letter over. Secured to the back with an old, frail strip of scotch tape, was the photo.
The…thing…in the cage was small, and resembled a human fetus. It was covered in blood and other unmentionable fluids, green scales glimmering through the gunk. Its eyes were open, and yellow.
TA dropped the letter. His hands were shaking.
This is not what I signed up for…
It was late now. Maybe everyone was asleep…
He left the PROJECT NEPTUNE folder and its contents scattered on his bedspread, and left his room, walking quickly and silently.
“Where are you going?”
He froze, turned.
She was next to the cotton candy booth…not in her tank.
“Lilah” stood solidly, hip leaning slightly on the stand. Not in water.
“You’re…not in a tank?”
This made her smile.
"…I am half human, you know. I just prefer to be underwater. It’s more soothing. Plus, people stay away from you…”
He was staring again. She wore a simple cotton sundress, her tawny hair was swept back, secured at the nape of her neck with a blue ribbon, her gills shamelessly exposed.
“…You didn’t answer my question…” The chimes sounded again, much cleared now that they weren’t flooded with water.
“Oh…um..” Why did he always feel like a child when talking to her? “Just…back to my tent…Was gonna get some rest...”
Her eyes lit up, now looking more like 4th-of-July sparklers than lanterns.
“I have a better idea…” he felt webbed fingers wrap around his wrist. It was a strange sensation, but, oddly enough, he didn’t mind so much
“…Want to see my favorite thing about this place?”
“S...sure..” She was leading him to the carnival section near all the rides. Then, Lilah stopped.
“See that?”
It was a mountain. At least, that’s what TA had thought at first. It rose above even the ferris wheel, the highest ride in the park. A rickety sign near the entrance read
“Yeah…? What is it, one of those mountain log rides?”
She smiled again. The way her lips stretched over her small teeth looked unnatural. Not forced, no. The smile was genuine. He could tell by the way her eyes lit up. It just looked like her lips weren’t supposed to move that way.
Fish don’t smile…
He shook the thought from his mind.
“Get in…” They had arrived at the entrance to the ride.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 2:15 pm
Okay, so...I'm thinking I'll post something. Just cause, I can. It's not the best...and I didn't mean for it to rhyme or to be a poem, but whatever.
6. 7.4.09: Circus Take a look around in the world, and what do you see?
Perhaps a thought of a circus and all its glee?
There you lay eyes on what would be,
The perfect story for a person like me.
On a loft there someone stands
Introducing all of the bands.
The announcer, of course! Who else could it be?
None other than the ringleader, can’t you see?
What about the lion and its daring master?
There they are, not short from disaster.
But on one leg a kitty cat stands.
A child at play, holding its hands.
Twin kiddies at play on swinging set
Probably ever since the day they met.
Jumping and diving like a jet,
They’re the acrobats wouldn’t you bet?
All in all there’s always a jokester
Flailing like a wild coaster.
Here he laughs about his flaming toaster
The clown that always makes the poster.
And where am I inside this mess?
Perhaps the one in the crazy dress?
No no, not me, for can’t you see?
I’m anything I want to be.
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2010 10:56 pm
6. 7.4.09: Circus for SakuraMidvalley
Following Instructions: 10
Characters: 9
Grammar/etc: 6
Everything about this piece was very creative and well-written. There were just some problems with sentence fluency.
Introduction/Conclusion: 10
Setting/Action: 9
Total: 44
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2010 10:58 pm
6. 7.4.09: Circus for SilentBreeze90
Following Instructions: 10
Characters: 10
Grammar/etc: 10
Poetry’s grammar is a bit harder to “grade.” If this is free verse, then there’s nothing I can really say about it.
However, in poetry you have the option of making subtle patterns and/or making silent remarks just based on the form.
Something I might just suggest is…in the first two stanzas, you began with the “a rhyme.” It might have been interesting if you kept up the a rhyme throughout the other two stanzas. Just something that you might have fun with in the future.
Introduction/Conclusion: 12
You get extra points for doing something creative such as writing poetry and going outside the norm.
Setting/Action: 9
Total: 51
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Posted: Sun Jan 03, 2010 11:01 pm
6. 7.4.09: Circus for Erratic Rhapsody
Following Instructions: 10
Characters: 10
Grammar/etc: 10
As far as I’m concerned, poetry cannot be “graded.” Especially if this, I would suspect, is free verse. Because as the name implies, the writer is allowed to do anything they see fit. Free verse was my favorite type of poetry, until I learned something about it in an English class. My suggestion, while this is a great work of art—honestly…is to next try structured poetry.
Introduction/Conclusion: 10
Setting/Action: 10
Total: 50
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2010 10:21 am
New Prompt
7. 1.18.10: "Headlock" by Imogen Heap
Instructions:
1. 350 word limit
2. Must choose and use one of these settings:
• A night club
• A school campus (anywhere: dorms, cafeteria, classroom, playground)
• An office building
• A stage (may be a musical stage, an abandoned stage, theater stage, or anything else that comes to mind)
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Posted: Fri Jan 22, 2010 10:56 pm
((I dunno how well it really fits the prompt, but here we go anyways. It was kind of hard caus of the limit on words, but I dunno, I kind of like it in a sort of emo depressed kind of way..))
7. 1.18.10: "Headlock" by Imogen Heap
Instructions:
1. 350 word limit
2. Must choose and use one of these settings:
• A night club
• A school campus (anywhere: dorms, cafeteria, classroom, playground)
• An office building
• A stage (may be a musical stage, an abandoned stage, theater stage, or anything else that comes to mind)
Music blasted from speakers mounted in every corner as bright, colored lights roved across the streaming flesh of dancers mashed together. Strawberry blond hair stood out in one of the rare white spotlights around the crowded room, nodding and moving gently as its owner danced as if she wished the night would never end. In contrast with her movements, clear green eyes were clouded with pain as thoughts ran endlessly repeating through her mind.
It’s too late, Maleah, he doesn’t love you, a rich warm baritone threaded between hazy thoughts. He’s mine now, The seductive, pouting voice of the woman who’d stolen him, raking deep into the already raw flesh of her heart. He’s gone, Maleah! He’s not coming back so stop waiting for him already, A distressed, high-pitched voice, trying to shove through the frozen confines of her mind. I’m leaving. I’ve found someone else, someone who’s right for me; you should find someone new as well, that tenor voice, so lovely and familiar, the voice she had called her own for so long. She quickly called another voice to the forefront. She couldn’t afford to think of him. You need to move on, quiet, consoling, a mother’s soothing voice to a heartbroken child. I’ve found someone who’s perfect for you. You’re going out with him tonight, the no nonsense voice of a girl who meant to get her best friend over her ex, no matter what it took. My feelings have just grown cold, no, not that voice, she couldn’t stand to hear it. Give up. Move on. I don’t need you. He’ll never return your love. Just forget him. He’s not worth it. Just let go. His voice rang out through the chaos, filled to bursting with the emotion in the last thing he’d ever said to her.
“No, I can’t,” the broken voice was a whisper, an imperceptible sound in the raging club “I won’t believe any of this. I know we’re better than that.”
Two figures fell to the floor as twin gunshots rang out through the nightclub.
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silentbreeze90 Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Jan 23, 2010 6:29 am
(I hope this fits for the prompt. o.O It's barely under 350. >w> I call this, "What Could Have Been". Oh, I went back and edited it just to make sure that it was clear where they were. o.o)
7. 1.18.10: "Headlock" by Imogen Heap
Instructions:
1. 350 word limit
2. Must choose and use one of these settings:
• A night club
• A school campus (anywhere: dorms, cafeteria, classroom, playground)
• An office building
• A stage (may be a musical stage, an abandoned stage, theater stage, or anything else that comes to mind)
Five years since Yumi had confessed her love to the genius and he still hadn’t asked her to marry him. Everyone knew they loved each other, but Zero…was unwilling to take that step. He said he had more important things to do, which only meant locking himself in the laboratory until someone forced him out, searching for a cure that he hadn’t found after sixteen years. Two weeks past and Yumi hadn’t heard a word from Zero, nor had his best friend. It was time she take care of this once and for all.
“Zero. Please stop your work and eat something; you look ill,” she started, pushing her blonde locks behind her ears as she approached Zero, “You’ve been here for days; you haven’t even talked to Quiggley.”
“I’m fine,” he answered immediately, his focus on the many beakers and notes in front of him.
“Why put your body under such conditions? Please, come with me.”
The genius didn’t move, “This is more important.”
“Are you so in love with your work that much? You love me; why can’t we start a relationship?” Yumi questioned.
“It’s too late to start now!” Zero snapped.
“No! You’re better than this!” she said tearing the papers and beakers off of the scientist’s desk. “You’re just afraid to start. You cling to your work as if it’ll save you. You’ll never find the cure!” She screamed now.
A sudden rage hit the male. “Don’t! I will find the cure, even if it takes my whole life. I’ll find it!” Icy spheres were filled with a flame that had not been there moments before. It was the rage that his father once held. However, this gaze quickly vanished as he saw the tears form in his lover’s eyes. But it was too late for that moment to be restored.
Work clearly had Zero in a bind. He was a genius bound to his work, never to have his one true love.
Soft footsteps bounded across the university as Yumi ran from the memories hope still strong. She would free him one day.
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Posted: Thu Jul 22, 2010 7:12 pm
5. 5.16.09: "Love will enter cloaked in friendship's name. ." - Ovid
Instructions: Have fun.
This entry will not be graded (for more or less obvious reasons). I hope everyone responds anyway <3
“Karina-”
They had been friends for so long, that it seemed almost impossible that anything would ever change. Or perhaps friendship was not the best way to describe their relationship. It wasn’t that they had fewer or greater feelings and interactions than the average friendship, merely that their relationship could not be classified as easily as an average relationship might be. In some people’s eyes, their relationship was perhaps even closer and more binding than marriage. Their closeness and the trust they shared surpassed most married couples, but in other ways, they could be said to be passing faces on the streets, their knowledge of each others’ personal lives so trivial as to be nearly negligible. They weren’t partners, exactly, but they certainly weren’t strangers either. It was impossible to be a stranger with someone who had often saved your life and whom you had saved many times in return.
“Karina! Karina, are you listening to me? Karina!!”
“Oh! Dima. I’m so sorry, I must have been gathering wool. What were you saying?”
The albino sighed, shaking his head, “Are you alright, Karina? You’re usually more focused than this. Did something happen that’s bothering you?”
Karina smiled sheepishly at her fellow sniper with a little shrug, “I guess I’m just not used to being on a mission without Sasha.”
His brown and blue heterochromic eyes looking worried and his mouth twisted down into a frown, Dima stared hard at her as if he knew that she wasn’t telling the whole truth. Finally, though, knowing that interrogating her would be useless, the man turned back towards the window he was positioned at. “Alright, Karina. Say what you will, but can you try to pay a bit more attention? Our target is coming,” Aiming his SSG3000 downward, he stared into the scope, picking out the target among the many heads of their enemies. “Hurry and set up. You’ll have more to worry about than being separated from Sasha if we miss this chance. Sasha herself will see to that.”
Wincing, Karina pulled out her own sniper rifle, the DSR-1 subsonic, her hands quickly assembling the parts while her eyes stayed fixed on Dima. She wondered why they had been paired together today. Normally, when she worked a job with Sasha, and they split up for better coverage, they each completed their part of the plan with no other people involved. Admittedly, they’d worked with Dima and his partner Fier multiple times in the past, but the two most lethal Russian assassination teams weren’t usually assigned to the same job. That was generally considered overkill since both teams had a 100% success rate in their missions.
Her rifle assembled, she rested it on its tripod, before lying down, removing her glasses and examining the crowd through her scope. There he was. The leader of the fourth German Reich, Herr Ludwig Panzer. It was time to get some work done.
Four shots rang out through the square as four bullets left the snipers’ guns. The man couldn’t possibly survive two head shots and two body shots. He’d be dead within a day. Now it was time to run, before the Germans caught up with them.
Her rifle packed, and a Browning out in her hand, she checked the hall before motioning Dima out first. “Let’s go, Dima, we might as well stick together until we get out of here and find our partners.”
They made it out the back door just before the Germans burst in through the front. They ran through the back alleys of the German city, native soldiers close behind them.
“Karina…” Dima’s voice behind her forced her to look back, “Karina, they’re gaining on us. You go first. I’ll stay behind and protect our rear.”
“Don’t you dare play the hero with me, Dima, I’m ambidextrous, and a better shot. If either of us is guarding our trail, it’ll be me, but we’re not getting caught, now get those lazy legs going.”
With a small smile, the man obeyed her order, running faster than before, and easily catching up to her. Stupid men and their stupid ideals combined with their long legs. One of these days, she’d find a way to beat some sense into all of them. A block of German soldiers appeared in the alley before them, and Karina fired her gun without stopping. If they could get past these soldiers, they’d be able to hide in the panicking crowd on the street. The soldiers came piling into the alley faster than she could shoot, and finally she was forced to stop and turn backwards. Caught.
“Karina… Karina, in case we die here-”
“Shut up, we’re not dying Dima. If you die, I’m going to kill you all over again.”
The other Russian laughed, unable to keep his face straight at her threat, but continued all the same, “In case we die-”
“I said-”
This time, he ignored Karina’s words and started shouting over her to make himself heard, “In case we die, I wanted to tell you… I love you, Karina.”
“Talk about bad timing, Dima.”
“What better time than when we’re facing our deaths after finishing a mission?”
“We’re not dying, a*****e.”
“… … … I love you too, Dima.”
“I mean, not just as friends, though I like to think we’ve become that over the years, but I love you, love you. The way a man loves a woman, you know, the I want to kiss you and hold you in my arms forever-”
“Shut up and shoot, you idiot. I got the point and I haven't changed my mind. I still love you. But I’d love you more if we both made it out of here alive.”
Shots rang out through the alley, until finally there were no more to be heard.
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silentbreeze90 Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Jan 06, 2011 10:31 am
7. 1.18.10: “Headlock” for SilentBreeze90
Following Instructions: 10
Characters: 10
Grammar/etc: 8
Introduction/Conclusion: 8
Setting/Action: 10
Total: 46
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