x___x yeah. so the old story I started died off...
...and I've finally decided that short stories are my thing. =/
LIKE, REALLY SHORT. 8D
And I'm thinking that if my English teacher doesn't mind this kind of stuff, I'm hoping it won't be too bad for this forum, although none of my choice of writing is fanfic. D:
[ edit, june second, 2010] CRITIQUE, PLEASE? C:
so. i kind of want some constructive criticism, myself. i have one particular bit on page three that i want some opinions on, but if that's not your cup of tea / just not interesting please go to my deviantart [ http://solunasunwell.deviantart.com/ ]* and find something there you're interested in critiquing c:
of course, if nothing THERE is decent either, i have many in progress tidbits of writing i'm interested in opinions for. other than those, i have a plethora of various role play plots and introductions i'd like opinions for, also, and you only have to ask for a specific genre to see if i have any.
and if you just really don't want to, that's fine, too.
* as fair warning, there is some suggestive material on my dA page and if you're not comforable with that, don't go. just jump directly for asking. most of my role play material, however, is neopets safe and should for safe, too. c: and just make sure you don't blind yourself looking at the art.
-- Edited by Souki on Tuesday 28th of April 2009 03:04:24 AM
-- Edited by Souki on Thursday 25th of February 2010 06:38:05 AM
-- Edited by Souki on Thursday 4th of March 2010 06:12:47 AM
-- Edited by Souki on Sunday 21st of March 2010 06:14:43 AM
-- Edited by Souki on Thursday 3rd of June 2010 12:36:12 AM
She had done it so many times she could do it in her sleep.
Firstly, she had taken out the can of WD40 and sprayed the hinges liberally with the lubricating substance before setting to work on the lock with her set of lock picks.
"Peer into the windows to see if anyones there," whispered the voice in her head.
I've already done that, she told the voice crossly. I wouldnt be much of an assassin if didnt know at least that much!
The voice did not reply.
Thank you! she thought huffily before pushing on the door carefully. It was still locked.
A sliding bolt, perhaps?
Out of the pack on her back came a strong magnet. Putting it where she assumed the deadbolt to be, she smirked as the magnet caught with a soft thump. Undoing the bolt, she stowed everything into her pack before silently pulling out the muffled Glock 19. She adjusted the night vision goggles with a hand and settled her breathing. With the grip of the muffled pistol in her left hand, she pushed the door open, the heavy bulletproof material swinging forward in complete silence on oiled hinges.
The richly furnished house glowed a ghostly green as she crept inside, feet silent on the luxurious carpets. There was no noise as she remembered the plans she had reviewed just a half hour ago; there was no hint of her presence as she slowly made her way towards the bedroom where her prey slept, unaware of their death just a few yards away....
She opened the door, the slumbering figure on the bed sprawled in a tangle of expensive silk sheets and snoring more than loudly enough to mask her light footsteps. There would be chance of his awakening before she finished with him... not that it would take very her long.
She shifted her weight, leveling the pistol slowly; there was no sign that she was preparing to take a life. For all purposes, she could have been raising a camera to take a picture: her breathing was even; her heart rate did not change in the slightest.
There had been a cough and a small shudder of the pistol as it had spat out one metal bit of death at the oblivious figure.
She hadn't missed before, she didnt miss now, and she wasn't going to start now.
And then it all went wrong. There had been no hint of the police force converging on the death house as she slipped silently back out of the house. There had been no hint--no sign!--of the arrival of the armed forces to take away the Seven Deadly Sins deadliest operative.
Her eyes opened slowly as she raised a hand to block out the light of the rising sun.
How unlike me to ponder the past, she mused silently to herself as she sat up, yawning widely. The events had happened years agothree years ago today, to be precise.
A smile tugged at her lips. It made a pleasant birthday present to be captured and tried for murder.
For an assassin awaiting the death penalty, she had been given a surprisingly good room. Perhaps it was the fact that she was only fifteen when she had been captured. Maybe it was because she hadn't really been given a choice. It could be because the United States government could not deny the fact that the dead man--a Mister Robert Flay--had deserved death and only by the silly laws of the republic survived to his fifty two years of age. Either way, she wasnt going to survive a day past eighteen--at least, that was what the government had planned for her.
Outside the bars and reinforced glass, she could see the sun on its path above the high security prison up in the mountains as the tapping footsteps of her escort came for her.
"Miss Fai, this way, please." The clipped tones of a professional guard entered her thoughts and her eyes narrowed for a moment before her emotionless mask slipped into place again.
"Of course." A smirk crossed her face for half a second. Those who saw it wouldn't realize its meaning soon enough to save their lives.
-- Edited by Souki on Thursday 25th of February 2010 06:32:15 AM
ESCAPED ASSASSIN ESCAPES HIGH SECURITY PRISON, KILLING HUNDREDS, LEAVING FROSTMOOR PRISON A SLAUGHTER HOUSE
Emily Stray
Yesterday, on Sunday, a convicted assassin escaped Frostmoor's high security prison.She managed to kill almost everyone within the facility, even her fellow prisoners, and only one in fifty survived the brutal assault.
"We have no clue how such a monstrous act happened," says Christopher Marshal, 45, one of the many detectives working on the case. "She had showed no signs of rebelling during the three years she was in their care, and apparently the fact that she had a contact with the supposedly fallen Sins agency wasnt expected. The initial check revealed two submachine guns and thousands of spent cartridges--approximately twenty shots per casualty, from what we can see."
This brutal murder was committed by eighteen year old Xyrnn Fai who was arrested three years ago yesterday for the murder of Robert Flay. Her association with the highly infamous society of assassins, the Seven Deadly Sins, has brought them under suspicion of several more murders, though there has been no evidence.
"The only reason we caught Fai," says Diggory Emerson, 50, head of the squad in charge of capturing Fai three years ago, "was because of an anonymous tip. We suspect that it was someone within the Sins agency that had a thing against Fai. It was a good thing we acted fast, though--even though it only took us a few minutes to get there, Fai was already on her way out."
(complete story on page 7)
Needless to say, the reporter did not live long and mysterious murders continued.
Everyone constituted the unexplainable deaths to the assassin Xyrnn Fai, the name Fai associating with more brutality and suffering than the Sins had ever attained.
She was never captured again and, to our knowledge, remains a free woman to this day.
We all have our moments: A moment to cry, a moment to laugh. A moment to be held, a moment to be let go. A moment to be sad for not having what we want, and a moment to be happy with what we got.
Yeah, we all have those moments. And I advise you not to put them to waste.
This is a random poem I wrote. There's some implied stuff (of the romantic nature) in there I put there just because it rhymed. There's also the more blunt death that's kind of what I do. If you have issues with things like that, please don't read it D: I'd really hate to bother you guys ;o; But if you're all good with that, then read away~ =D Also, since I'm copying and pasting this, there may be a few errors I didn't catch the first time. I'll do my best~
Love
Spoiler
A fickle essence
Born from the heart;
It creates lovers
Reluctant to part.
Eyes shining bright,
Cheeks flushed red--
Its only for the night--
He leads her to bed.
Their passion burns bright,
The night is cool and dark;
He grins weakly at her,
She smiles shyly back.
However this doesn't last long
Before attentions stray.
Their relationships cracking--
They're drifting away.
First his eyes caught
By another--Not her--
She's hurt as if she's
Stepped on a burr.
She soon returns the favor
As shes buying some things;
Another man has caught attentions--
There's no denying those pings.
The former-couple lie,
They make their excuses;
There's no denying it now,
The good ole days are through.
The Lying Game drags on
No egos are bruised,
Their houses are lonely,
The speed dial unused.
It'll take them a while--
If ever--to realize
That they're no longer lovers,
Just cheating, filthy liars.
The Game's up when he spots
The sports car that's not his
In the once empty driveway--
The anger starts to fizz.
He just barges right in--
Hes more than a bit indignant--
He spots the two and
The fury becomes malignant.
The stranger stares,
The woman smirks,
Fear is absent
And the taunt--strangely--works.
He roars in anger,
The stranger hops out,
He raises a fist,
And thus begins the bout.
The woman leans back,
Searching for the knife;
The men exchange blows,
The room's divided by strife.
There was nothing
As the blade came down,
With nary a sound;
He dropped without a frown.
And thus love turns to death,
Such is the fickle thing called love;
The woman's tried for murder,
As doves fly, carefree, above.
She's convicted, the couples now gone--
There's no sign of the once loving people
That had imagined, hoping, that
They'd be married in the steeple.
Because love is a fickle thing.
-- Edited by Souki on Tuesday 28th of April 2009 03:00:05 AM
This was something I wrote for a short story 'contest' kind of thing. The kind where you write something up using a word in under ten minutes kind of thing? This was written kind of recently, when I decided I would start saving the entries that won / I really liked. I had other ones, but I didn't save those. The word, I believe, was implore.
"Please!" she sobbed, eyes streaming relentlessly. "For my child! Our child!"
The ruler sat, bored, upon his gilded throne as he fingered a bunch of grapes absently. Glancing disdainfully at his mistress on the elegantly tiled floor, he scoffed, and flicked a grape into his mouth. Biting down with an audible pop, he said to one of the many attendants at his side, "Ensure that she gets a silver Rhine a month."
"B--but!" the woman began, protesting.
"But nothing," interrupted the man. "Take her away."
"If only for Rina!" the woman implored, giving one last try as the guards hauled bodily her away.
The moment the doors slammed closed, the man sighed and buried his face in his hands. Why was life so difficult? A minute of self pity later and he sat up. He clapped for entertainment and minutes later the whole affair was forgotten.
-- Edited by Souki on Tuesday 28th of April 2009 03:07:28 AM