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Books Work-log
For any who's interested, I'm a writer. I've currently completed 3 books and am working on a fourth. If you want to check out my progress, stop in. Oh, I don't have my first two books in the logs. Sorry
So folks, I'm bad at this is "regular update" thing. And I went back to reread rebellion and found out thst my writing style is totally immature so I'm rewriting it. This is going to be soooo much fun rolleyes Oh well, just one of the many "perks" of being a write. On to Elezabeth.
She's in the village and they hate outsiders. Her life is at stake, saved only by the chief and village guard until an intruder is discovered and she's enlisted to hunt him down. It'll be an interesting scene to write because I have no tracking experience and it will require so much research.
On a different note, I'm writing a short story for a writing contest in Gaia. I hope you guys comment on it and tell me what you think. (Please don't plagiarize, guys)

Title: The Mysterious Man
Prompt: 6
Words: 2003
"It's not wise to let someone like that know your name."
I let out a loud laugh as I watched the back of the man I'd told my name to walk away. "As if you're one to talk," I retorted. "First time we met you stated your name and demanded I tell you mine." I turned around to look at the tall man behind me with his hood drawn up to hide his face.
"That's a completely different matter. I exist to protect you." As I pushed past him to keep walking, he fell into step behind me and slightly to the right, as he considered proper for someone of his "social standing."
"You're the same type of person as that man. You're both equally creepy." The wind took a hold of my short brown hair and blew the tiny tendrils into my eyes. I wrinkled my nose in distaste before brushing them away.
"That man should not be trusted," he stated and I knew that he would have growled if it was "proper." Honestly, he was more concerned with what was proper than anything else in this world.
"I've never even seen your face!" I exploded. "Why should I trust you either?"
"Because I'm keeping you alive." As if on cue, he grabbed my arm not unkindly and pulled me over to the side, away from a gaping hole I hadn't noticed appear in front of me. I flushed in embarrassment and defeat.
It was a fight we had often. One day, he'd simply appeared outside of my tiny little shop and told me "My name is Immanuel. I'm going on an adventure. Tell me your name and come with me." I'd hit him over the head with a frying pain but he simply held his hood firmly in place so I couldn't see his face past the cloak's hood and took my hand before leading me away. Since then, we'd gone into the barren wasteland that surrounding the tiny little cities of livable area after the nuclear war 129 years ago. Every time he told me to be more careful, to take care of myself, to know everyone around me and even to beware of strangers, I would retort by saying that I knew nothing about him. He always seemed to have a reply to completely counter my statements.
It was a lost cause.
"Whatever," I grumbled in irritation. Wrenching my arm out his grasp, I stomped off, this time being more careful about where I stepped.
This land was devastated. After years of nuclear warfare, everywhere except for certain areas in every country predetermined to be safe havens was reduced to a chemical ruin, not a plant being able to grow, much less wanting to. That was why I stated a shop in my home town. I tested the plants we could scavenge and tried to find a way to make them able to withstand the high levels of radiation in the soils so the world could once again be returned to the green planet that I'd read about in whatever book I could get my hands on from before the 22nd century.
As we trekked across the open area, the sun began to set to our right. I stopped to admire the gorgeous view. Even in this destroyed world, the sun still rose in the east and set in the west in a brilliant display of light. It was awe inspiring.
"Immanuel," I started slowly.
"What's wrong, Lilian?" he asked me in concern. I rarely if ever said his name.
"Don't you ever get sick of this? All of this traveling with different people, never settling down and starting a life? Don't you ever want to just stop and fall in love?" I laughed breathlessly, still watching the sunset that reminded me that we were inferior creatures easily destroyed and so desperate to make lives for ourselves. "Then again, I hear that only girls wish for true love, not boys."
He whispered something that was stolen by a sudden gust of wind. I was most likely mistaken because it sounded like he said "everyone wishes for true love, especially when it's something you never get the chance to experience." No, Immanuel never showed his feelings like that, he was too determined to maintain the image he had formed with his brooding attitude and oversized cloak.
"We should keep going," I stated and wrenched my gaze away from the terrifying sunset. "We must be close to the city if we're meeting people out here."
"After you," he proclaimed and swept his arm wide so I could walk in front of him with a sarcastic "Why thank you, sir."
About half an hour later, seconds before the light of the sun was completely snuffed out by the horizon, the town came into view. It was small, as too be expected but it was larger than the town I had travelled there from; anything would be larger than my cozy little town.
"We should stop here," he stated and I looked over at him.
"We can make it. We've been walking long past night fall every other night." The reason I wanted to get to the town was simple, it was starting to get uncomfortable around Immanuel. In the two months we've been together, he'd begun to get more...possessive? My last lover had been possessive and I still had a burn mark on my arm to prove it. Possessive males were dangerous.
But he shook his head to completely dismiss my comment. "The closer we get to the city, the more bandits there will be. It's safer to stay here for the night and head out in the morning. Anyway, we're on no schedule but our own."
I snorted. "Your schedule is warped. Fine, whatever, we can camp out here." I held out my hand and a bag of dried food was put into it. That was my job; I cooked the pre-made food Immanuel kept in his bag while he set up the tent. We fell into a quiet rhythm, broken only by the crackle of the fire I started and the rustling of fabric as the tent was put up. Only the rustling stopped, I looked into the pot of food and deemed that our genetically modified chicken stew was finished. The first spoonful was going into one of the bowls when Immanuel sat down beside me, painfully close on the dirt ground with our shoulders barely touching. I nearly spilled the bowl when I jolted.
"Careful there," he commented and took the bowl from my hand. A shiver ran up my spine at the light touch of his fingers on my own. He must have noticed because I knew he inspected my face through the shadow of his hood before taking the bowl away. "I wouldn't want to lose me dinner to the ground."
"Right," I mumbled and scooted further away. I convinced myself that it was only to get my own bowl of stew. Then another silence engulfed us as slight slurping sounds could be heard in the awkward silence.
"I'll leave you in this city," he suddenly told me. The bowl dropped to the ground from my hands at the shock of his sudden words. I stared sat him for a second, trying to comprehend what he'd just said.
"Wha-what?" I demanded. "What did you just say?"
"We're going to part ways in this next city." As if once wasn't enough, he had to say it again just for emphasis.
"You can't just leave me! You made me uproot my life to come with you and you'll just abandon me in some strange place?"
"I'm not abandoning you, Lilian," he tried to placate me. I snorted.
"Then what do you call it? Will you say your letting me get on with my life? I don't have a life aside from this anymore, Immanuel. I still study plants i see growing out here but, aside from that, I don't have a life waiting for me anywhere except for here in the wasteland with you!" Tears if frustration began to find their way into my eyes without my consent.
"You'll be able to make a life somewhere else."
I stood up slowly and stood in front of him as he looked evenly at me. His cloak still concealed his face but I could finally see his angular cheek bones. The tears in my eyes evaporated as I stared at him. He stared back up at me, meeting my icy gaze, the hot bowl of stew abandoned in his hands by the ground.
"Are you an idiot?" I finally asked.
He was visibly confused by my statement. "I don't think so. Idiots don't survive very long out here in the wasteland; it's slightly brutal and not very forgiving to mistakes, no matter how large or how small."
"Than why are you acting like one?"
"I'm...not?" The confusion laced his words again, testing the waters to see if his reply would irritate me any more.
"Yes, you are." I stepped forward so I was standing between his knees, staring down into where his eyes would be if I could see them. "I'm not leaving you no matter what you say. If you do end up running from me when we get into that city, I'll come right back out into this wasteland and look for you until I find you or I die."
"You just said you would pretty much commit suicide and your calling me the idiot?" he wondered as I finished my tirade.
"Maybe I'm an idiot, too. But at least I don't ask people to complete abandon their lives in favor for an addictive, exciting life that they will never be able to come back from." Once again I took a step forward. This time, I was practically on top of him, his legs going around my own legs from his position on the ground.
"It's not my fault this is addictive."
"It's not the traveling that's addictive. It's who you make them travel with." It was true. Immanuel had become an integral part of my life. We spent every second together but somehow never got irritated at each other. He would tell me I did something wrong and then come up behind me, wrap his arms around me to grab my hands and guide me through the proper motions for the task. More than once, I'd nearly fallen into one of the craters in the earth or been attacked by wild animals but he'd always saved me from them. I thought he'd been enjoying it too.
But he wouldn't tell me to leave if he enjoyed my company. If was improbable. Whenever someone likes a person, they don't drive then away; they pull them so closer they can't escape the cage of their arms. Especially a possessive person like I had realized Immanuel was.
At the end of my comment, Immanuel began to stand up as well. We were standing, pressed against each other with me a head shorter than him. I could finally see his eyes.
They were a brilliant blue, speckled by golden flakes visible only by the cooing fire behind me. They were framed by long eyelashes that somehow only served to make him appear more manly. A small scar was on his right eyebrow; it looked like the mark from an animal's claw.
"You don't know what you're saying," he whispered huskily.
Suddenly out of breath, I managed to force out a small:
"Yes, I do."
It happened suddenly. One moment, there was two inches of space in between us and, in the next it was gone and his lips were on my, possessively, eagerly claiming them. And I let him. After what felt like an eternity, we finally pulled apart I was starting to feel light headed.
"Don't leave me," I breathed.
"You'll never be able to escape me." He leaned back in.

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