DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
Failing Fiction
HTML https://failingfiction.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: Completed Challenges
*****************************************************
#Post#: 119--------------------------------------------------
Zu's Completed Challenges
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 17, 2013, 5:16 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
'ello
#Post#: 120--------------------------------------------------
Dictionary Challenge
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 17, 2013, 5:22 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Palate -
Jason was not known for having a refined palate. In fact,
he'd been known to eat just about whatever his sister would put
down in front of him. But that, that was just wrong and nasty
and horrible on so many levels. As though the mixture had been
left to rot in the heat for hours on end, only to be mixed with
milk and boiled a little longer.
He made a face, holding the small cup away from him. "I can't
drink that!"
Across from him, the diminutive sage frowned, his aged face
twisting into something unpleasant. "Why not? It will make your
wounds hurt less, young Guardian."
Insistent, Jason shook his head. It wasn't just the taste of
the concoction or the scent, but something more. Something that
made it seem /wrong/ to drink it. Inhumane, almost. "I
just...What's in this thing?"
Perol didn't miss a beat, one lightly furred hand pushing the
mug back towards the human boy. "A healing mixture, as I said
before. You do not listen well, do you?"
"I listen just fine," snorted Jason. "But this thing's weird
and I want to know what you made it with. Fruit or something?"
When Perol laughed, it was a high-pitched sound. Like the
screech of a lemur, mixed with the chortle of a human. "Fruit?
Fruit cannot heal you! Only you can heal you, Guardian."
Melodious -
"What's that supposed to even mean?" demanded Jason, face
scrunching up. He tried to shift further away from the small
creature, but a spike of pain travelling up his spine stopped
that thought before it could even fully form. There was no
hiding the wince that spread across his face, or the slight
hitch in his breath.
"Does it matter? You are hurt, Guardian. Evola's songs have
injured you badly, and you must heal if you wish to continue
this journey of yours." There was a grave note to Perol's voice,
the childish joy that seemed to enrapture all of his kind
suddenly slipping away. The fact that he was older than most of
the forest sage's was clearer than ever before. "And if you wish
to save your friend, then you must. You must!"
The last word was a near screech, loud and shrill. As though
there was more to Perol's request then just concern for the boy
that had helped his grandson. The monkey-like creatures eyes
were wide, mouth drawing back into something that wasn't quite a
snarl or a sneer, but certainly close.
It seemed almost out of place, and sent a chill down Jason's
spine. Just like that drink that Perol was still trying to shove
at him, the pink liquid spilling over the edges of the carved
mug. "I can take care of Chris just fine, old man. And I ain't
drinking that until you tell me what it is!"
The forest had fallen silent.
Flinch -
No one questioned Perol. Not the other sages, not the spirits
of the woodland, no one. He may have looked small and old and
frail, but there was power lurking beneath his humanoid form.
Thin, sinewy muscles and strong bones. Claws that could rip into
flesh and fangs that would tear muscle. Perol was being to be
feared, not cowed into a corner and spoken to like a child.
Not that Jason paid much attention to the look of anger that
flashed through primate eyes. He was more focused on struggling
to get to his feet, using the nearby oak tree to try and hoist
himself up. The action sent fire lacing along Jason's back, as
the sore muscles tightened and swollen flesh was tugged at. Even
just the simple action of his shirt brushing over the bruise,
dark and blue and vivid, was enough to make him wince.
Enough to distract him from the low growl forming at the back
of Perol's throat. "Do not question me when I tell you to drink,
human. You may be a Guardian, but you are still mortal! Aviral's
word may be law, but yours is not!"
"And neither is yours, old man!" Jason meant for it to come
out harsh and sharp, but the fact that he felt so bad diminished
it. Made it sound more like a question then anything, a low
grumble at the back of his throat.
One that morphed into a scream, loud and filled with pain,
when Perol launched himself at Jason. Sharp claws dug into the
human's shoulders, ripping at the bright yellow fabric.
Java -
Jason's back slammed into the ground, shirt quickly growing
damp. Water from the old leaves that covered the ground and
more, hot blood trailing down Jason's shoulder. And, in a moment
that was all him, his world seemed to slow down.
He could see Perol's wild eyes, mere inches from his own. The
bright yellow was more animal then human, upper lip pulled back
to reveal rows of discolored fangs. When the sage screeched, it
was to blow hot breath across Jason's face - and all that he
could think right then, in pain and trapped and powerless, was
that Perol's breath smelled like coffee.
Not the good kind, that he so loved to get at StarBucks. But
the foul almost viscous liquid that gas stations served, black
and bitter and burnt. Like earth and decay, enough that it made
Jason's stomach churn.
And then the play button was hit and everything was once more
a blur. Large hands moved to grab at Perol's shoulders, just as
the creature brought another clawed hand down, this time raking
it across Jason's chest.
As humans are want to do, dark rivulets of blood formed
there. Pain blossomed and everything was going wrong, so wrong,
because hadn't Tessa said that this man could help him? Hadn't
she promised that everything would be all right, now that he was
alive again? That Aviral wouldn't let anything bad happen?
She had, and it was just hitting the human that she must have
lied. This was not safe and never had been. And this man, this
creature, it was not an ally of his.
"Do not question me!" screeched Perol, the words closer to
inhuman growls than anything else. "Do not!"
Bother -
Without thinking, Jason thought back to his fights on the
street. To raw natural instincts and memories that he didn't
understand, that he had never seen before, but were so vivid in
his mind. Of pain and blood and destruction, along with the
sheer feeling of being afraid for his life and still unafraid to
die.
In one jerky motion, Jason's knee came up and connected with
Perol's chest. In a whirl of dead leaves and bits of damp moss,
he flipped them over, pinning the suddenly still sage to the
ground.
An animal knows when it's been beaten, after all, and pack
instinct comes even before pride and the urge to fight, to kill.
So Perol grew still and limp, staring up at the human with those
ape-like eyes of his.
"Quit bothering me about the damn drink," panted Jason,
because that moment of being there-but-not was gone, and in its
place was the feeling of misery that was quickly growing to be
familiar. "I don't drink things when I don't know what they
are."
A moment of silence, where the air was thick and the forest
still. Then Perol gave in to the new master of the pack, looking
more like an old man than the primal beast he had been only
moments ago. "Only you can heal you, Guardian. There is human
flesh in that drink, but it will make your injuries disappear.
It will make you stronger and faster. I only tried to help."
"Human?" Jason recoiled from the beast, stumbling onto both
legs. Couldn't think of anything to say to that.
#Post#: 134--------------------------------------------------
Ipod Shuffle - number one
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 17, 2013, 8:44 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Prayer Of The Refugee by Rise Against -
"It's war, Jason." said Tessa, and she sounded so broken and
lost. Like nothing could ever make that sentence right in her
mind and, really, it couldn't. "It's war and the others won't
come!"
Jason frowned, mouth drawing into a thin line. One hand
reached out, taking Tessa's smaller, smoother, paler one into
his own. "Don't look so lost. I'm here, aren't I?"
Tessa just shook her head, spring eyes closing as she did.
"It won't matter! You aren't going to be enough, not this time!
Not now! It's not just the humans and the spirits, Jason! It
isn't just the demons, either! The angels - they're involved
now!"
The fear in the young reaper's voice made Jason's heart
clench, because when had she ever been afraid? Never. Tessa was
not afraid, even of death. She /was/ friends with Death, flew on
wind that was fueled by his breath. To see her this way, it
hurt.
The First Drop by Rise Against -
It shouldn't matter that Jason Fletcher was just human, but
it did. To so many, that was the deciding factor. The one thing
that changed their minds, their opinions, their thoughts. It
made them doubt him - and in turn, it made them lose.
Jason was just a human. He was normal, at least in the ways
that his friends were different. He was so easily broken,
because his bones did not mend themselves, because his blood did
not replenish itself, because his energy was just that. Energy
that came and went and he needed sleep and food and drink.
But there were so many things that made him inhuman. That
made Lord Aviral stop and look at him, consider him for jobs and
missions and choices. Humanity was a fading grace, even in the
realm of the humans. There were so many that would not hesitate
to kill or steal or abandon all hope.
Jason wasn't like that. It made him special.
I Don't Want To Be A Bride by Vanessa Carlton -
"You make me happy, Chris, you really do." said Jenna, hand
reaching up to press against her long-time friends cheek. She
gave him a small smile, the corners of her lips twitching up
just slightly as she looked at him. "But I don't love you."
His face dropped, and she knew that his heart did too. But it
was the truth and it had to be said. Jenna wanted to spend her
life with Chris, but she didn't want to marry him. Or anyone,
really. The very thought was unappealing to her in so many ways
- the stifling nature of being bound to one man, one place, one
life. His life, because it was what everything would revolve
around.
"You are so much more important to me then I could ever say,
but then, you could say the same thing about being a Guardian.
And that's okay!" Jenna let her hand slide down his face, moving
to take his hands in hers instead. "You deserve to be happy,
doing something like that. It's everything you've always wanted.
It's just not for me. You understand, don't you?"
And there was a moment of silence, where her heart seemed to
stop.
Remedy by Seether -
Jason's breath came in harsh gasps, raking against his sore
throat and causing his chest to ache. He couldn't get enough air
into his lungs, save for the heavy cold that was so tainted with
blood and sweat and the scent of decay.
Behind him, Chris still lay on the ground, awak but unable to
move. Paralyzied by the ear-piercing song that had wormed its
way into his mind and halted his movements, unsure why Jason had
not been affected the same way.
If the young human stopped to think about it, he may have
been confused too. But Jason couldn't. Was too focused on
watching the bird-like creatures swaying movements, waiting for
a taloned hand to strike at, clawing at his trembling body in an
attempt to get to Chris. Too busy trying to stop that from
happening, because Chris had died once and would not die again
and so what if Jason's own life ended in the process?
That was what he had known would happen from the very
beginning, all those years ago. Back when he and Chris first
brushed shoulders in the hallway of middle school, and that jolt
of electricity shot through his spine.
Black Masks and Gasoline by Rise Against -
"It has been too long since we last saw the light of day. Too
long since they blamed us for their mistakes and their flaws. I
will not take it anymore." The voice was quiet but steady,
catching the attention of everyone in the room. Dark eyes turned
to the speaker and pale faces nodded along, enthralled with the
idea of revolution.
That was what it was, after all. A revolution against those
in both the human realm and the spirit realm, against the lands
that had banished them near three millenia ago.
The speaker stood up, trailing slender fingers along the edge
of his alabastor throne. "They took our home and our nation and
sent us here, into the dark. Acting as though we had not given
life to them and their traditions. Like we were not the reasons
that their society had come into being. I will not stand such
disrespect any longer."
A low murmur of agreement, because the words were true. Were
real. Struck close to home in each listener, in each soul.
#Post#: 145--------------------------------------------------
Just A Dream
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 20, 2013, 10:16 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Amelia had spent her entire life planning for this moment,
the day that she would get married. When she would be able to
start a life of her own, just as she had always hoped for. A
family.
Each and every little detail, it had been carefully planned
out. Everything from the dress that she would wear down to the
songs that would play, they were all chosen when she was just a
young girl. Written down in a notebook that was always kept on
hand, pictures of gown cut out and pasted to the pages.
Amelia was just that type of girl. Everything had to be
planned out in advance. Otherwise, it didn't seem right.
Two weeks ago, the young red-head had turned eighteen. Now,
she was dressed in her mother's wedding gown - which was all
yellowed lace and white silk, beading decorating the bodice. Her
aunt's dark blue heels barely showed from beneath the skirt,
even when she was walking.
Sitting in the car as she was right then, they were covered.
Hidden. Pushed aside, just like the tears that had been
threatening to fall all morning.
It should have been a happy day that brought her here, to the
small town church. The same one her parents had gotten married
in. Where her grandparents had been married. Where she had
always planned that she herself would get married.
It was only right for it to happen in the same church, after
all.
As Amelia took a turn into the cobble driveway, the cardboard
box perched in the passenger seat slid. One pale, trembling hand
shot out to grab it, keep it from hitting the floor. Couldn't
bear if it hit the floor, because that was all that she had.
Those letters, they meant more to her than anything else. More
even then the apartment that Amelia had worked so hard to get.
That /they/ had worked so hard to get.
It didn't take long for Amelia to find a place to park in the
near empty lot. To pull the veil over her head - because she was
as dressed as she was going to be, and there would be no Maids
of Honor to make sure that she looked her best. Instead, Amelia
pulled the veil over her head and started inside.
Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes, but the young
bride couldn't help it. Because this? It was not how the day was
supposed to go.
When she walked inside, everyone stood up from their seats.
Somber faces and dark clothing, red-rimmed eyes turning to watch
Amelia. Music began to play, and the very sound made Amelia's
stomach lurch because that was not the song that should have
been playing and this was not the crowd that should have been
there.
When she made it to the altar, the preacher began to speak.
His words just seemed to be swallowed by the music, by the
echoes in Amelia's mind, by the large hand wrapped around her
heart.
There was a moment where the entire church fell silent. Bowed
their heads. Spoke without actually talking. And then Amelia's
aunt was standing up and everyone was singing.
In the back of Amelia's mind, she thought that she knew the
song. Recognized the words and the tune. But right then, in that
moment, they meant nothing to her. Less than nothing, even. Just
like that flag that was being placed on top of Nick's coffin
meant less than nothing, even though it stood for so much.
And then everything went fuzzy and strange, and Amelia
couldn't see any more. Couldn't stand any more, as her legs just
seemed to give way beneath her. The wooden floor made contact
with her knees - but that didn't matter, because this wasn't how
things were supposed to go. Nick wasn't supposed to leave her,
certainly not like this. They were supposed to be together
forever. Supposed to have that Happily Ever After that she had
always dreamt of.
But they would never get that, and everyone except Amelia had
already accepted that fact. Instead, the young girl that would
now never be a bride shook her head. Tears stained her cheeks
and blurred her vision, and all that Amelia could do was tell
herself that it wasn't true.
It was just a dream. Nick wasn't dead and when she woke up,
they would get married. Just like the had planned for so long.
It was just a dream and nothing more.
"Just a dream."
#Post#: 156--------------------------------------------------
Silent Words - for the body language challenge
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 24, 2013, 6:44 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Like most pirates, the Full Moon Pirates are extremely loud,
extremely vocal. They like to dance and sing, to celebrate their
victories with toasts of rum and sake. Platters of food piled
half-way to the sky, jokes and hugs and shouting out praises for
each other.
Parties, Aytra often says, are important to being a good
crew!
Sometimes, it is left at that. The good captain will be
caught up in an especially tasty looking plate of fish or
turkey, or whatever form of meat that Kai has managed to get his
hands on this time, and the music will resume. The laughter will
start back up, loud and blaring, as everyone joins in for a
round of cheering.
Sometimes, it isn't. If the fight has been a particularly
rough one, a long one, a painful one, than Aytra will continue.
Always briefly, voice still full of cheer and grin still
plastered on his face, Aytra will call out, Stein said he used
to hold parties for his crew all the time!
And, while the movement and noise doesn't still at times like
these, it does soften. Simmers down because they know, by that
mention alone, that their captain is hurting.
Aytra, after all, is very vocal. Even if the words aren't
always straight-foreward, he finds a way to tell his crew that
something is wrong. That someone needs to be honored or helped,
or that he is disappointed in something they have done. Aytra's
words are never out of place, always smooth and loud and just
like he is. Just like the rest of his crew.
Most days, the Full Moon crew can merely tell someone to go
away, leave me alone. Because they are loud and talkative, just
like their captain is. Most days, words are enough. More than
enough, really, because while the crew is loud, they can also
listen.
The difference between the Full Moon crew and most other
pirates, all of which are rowdy and loud and vocal, is that the
most important things aren't said with words. They aren't said
out loud at all.
No - they are in looks and in touches and in slight quirks of
the mouth. In eyes and in movement and in mannerisms. In sleep
and in fight and in laughter. The most important aspect of
communication for the Full Moon crew is silence.
A pointed look during battle. This is your fight now. I'm
trusting you.
A scowl and a friendly hand shrugged off. I want - I need to
be alone.
Sleep interrupted by thrashing legs and tangled sheets. The
memories are too bad tonight, they won't let me sleep.
Laughs just a touch too loud, smiles just a tad too big. I
need to pretend to be happy today.
A back pressed to their own, soaked with blood and sweat, so
that every breath taken can be felt. I've got your back. As long
as I can stand, I'll have your back.
A door locked, blind pulled. I don't want to talk, but I need
someone to notice that something is wrong.
Arms that wrap around chests, tight but not painful, and
hands gripping shirts. Just let me know that you're here.
Frantic eyes, searching for something unseen, for someone
only they can feel and hear and know about. Remind me where I
am. Remind me that I'm safe.
A normally grinning face with lips tugged down, ever so
slightly. I'm disappointed with this. I'm worried.
Silent foot-steps in the dead of night, transferring
crew-mates from one room to another. Silent gazes looking in on
everyone, faces blank but night-clothes damp with sweat. Still
here.
I need to know that everyone is still here.
These are the real ways that the Full Moon crew communicate.
Because, while they are almost always loud and boisterous and
vocal, sometimes they aren't. And these are the most important
times.
#Post#: 197--------------------------------------------------
Ipod Shuffle - Rise Against version
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 26, 2013, 12:00 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
To Them These Streets Belong by Rise Against -
"Do you really think it was worth it?" asked Jason, and he
couldn't help but feel betrayed. Tilted his head and watched
Chris closely, because he wanted to know if the other Guardian
was telling the truth or not.
After a moments pause, Chris gave a nod. "Yeah, it was. I
mean, I love Jenna, but if she can't accept what I do..."
"But she did accept you!" Jason said, shaking his head. He
didn't understand the other boy, how uncaring Chris looked to be
about the entire affair. No. How uncaring he /felt/ about it,
because while you could lie with words, even Chris Stein could
not hide his true feelings.
And, really, what else did Chris have in the human realm?
Nothing that was worth staying for, and maybe that thought
scared Jason a little.
A Gentleman's Coup by Rise Against -
He lied. That was all that Tessa could think. Lord Aviral had
lied when he said that the human realm would escape from this
war unharmed, just as he lied when he said that Jason would not
suffer for his involvement. Yet the human was clearly suffering
right then.
Shaking his head, Jason pulled his sister's prone form
closer. Large hands pressed against the wound on her stomach,
trying to cease the flow of blood and failing, failing, failing
because there was just so much there.
"No! No!" Jason's voice was wild and rough, thick with the
same grief that filled the air of the Fletcher abode. "Don't go,
Megan, please! I need you here, I can't do any of this without
you!"
The older Fletcher child didn't say anything, just stared up
at her younger brother with glassed over eyes. It brought a sob
out of Jason, harsh and racking, even as the tears refused to
fall. Curled himself over his sister - and this was the first
time Tessa had ever seen him cry, wasn't it?
Savior by Rise Against -
"Jason, please, you have to stop this." begged Tessa, on the
verge of tears herself. She curled her fingers into the damp
fabric of Jason's jacket, trying to tug the human closer to her.
Ignoring the way it made his head ache, Jason shook his head.
His own large hands found a place to rest on Tessa's shoulders,
grime and dirt and blood staining the once light fabric. "No.
Stop it, Tessa. I know you're trying to help me, but you aren't.
You're making it harder!"
"Good!" The word came out close to a scream, and the
normally calm reaper girl shook her head. Tears welled up in the
corner of her light green eyes, because none of this was right!
"You shouldn't be out there, you shouldn't have to do this! It
isn't your war, Jason! It's ours!"
A moment of silence, and then Jason bent down until he could
press chapped lips against the crown of Tessa's head. The next
words were murmurred against her hair, which smelt so clean and
fresh compared to the burning world around him. "It is now."
Help Is On The Way by Rise Against -
It's an odd thing, to look in the mirror. At least for Jason,
who tried to avoid them at all times. Avert his eyes and not
look, because they brought up nothing but bad memories and an
empty spot in his mind, where a picture should have been but
there was nothing but darkness.
His sister, Megan, she often told him that he looked like
their mother. Had her hair, her face, and their father's eyes.
Shared the same dream as Serena had, and the same giving
personality.
But Jason? He cannot remember any of that. Not his mother's
face or voice or touch. For years, it is empty space and a
haunting feeling of being forgotten, brought about whenever
Jason tried to think of her.
And now, standing amidst the burning rubble of what had once
been his home, Jason still cannot picture her.
Satellite by Rise Against -
"You should just run now, little Guardian." said the shadow,
waving one pale hand towards the orange haired man before him.
"I have no qualms with you, or your race. Not at this moment, at
least."
Jason didn't move, even though every fiber of his being was
shouting at him to run. Even that dark and heavy voice in the
back of his mind, it said to flee and hide and never look back,
because this was a fight that could not be won.
But he just stood there and squared his shoulders, tilting
his head up so that he could look the looming beast in the face.
"I don't think so. You and Aviral don't get along, I get that.
No one likes the guy. But you're wrong if you don't think this
is my fight."
"Oh, am I?" The shadow sounded more amused then anything,
thin lips twisting up into something that was neither sneer nor
smile.
"Yeah." stated Jason, and his words were the truth. Plain
and simple. "You made it my fight when you came after Chris."
#Post#: 199--------------------------------------------------
Every Storm Runs Out of Rain - a Sailor Moon story
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 26, 2013, 12:48 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
I saw you standing in the middle of the thunder and lightning
I know you're feeling like you just can't win, but you're trying
It's hard to keep on keepin' on, when you're being pushed around
Don't even know which way is up, you just keep spinning down,
'round, down…
--------
Thunder cracked through the sky, drowning out almost everything
else. Even the pale girl's labored breathing seemed to be
swallowed up by the sound, repititive and harsh against her
ears.
It didn't bring comfort, as it normally did. Just frightened
Makoto, because it meant that she was still alone and out
numbered and injured and scared. A harsh cough wrenched its way
out of her throat, and she bowed her head. Slender fingers
curled into the damp mud, which gave beneath them with no
resistance.
A break in the thunder, and she could hear it. Their laughter,
loud and high-pitched. It was twisted by the howls of the wind
and the pounding rain, but still there. Echoing around her
until, once again, the boom of thunder devoured all other sound.
"I still hear you!" screamed Makoto, and she was trying so hard
to come off as brave and strong. To not show any weakness, even
though there was little more that she could do.
Out of the corner of one eye, there was a jagged flash of light.
It gave Makoto a glimpse of dark scales and yellow eyes, lunging
at her. She was barely able to roll out of the way in time, the
daimon making contact with the wet earth instead. It shook
itself off, rising up onto the coils of its snake-like body. The
ground beneath it was charred - and Makoto narrowed her eyes
because that could have been her.
Had been her, earlier. Makoto could still feel the sting of pain
lacing up her left arm. Still couldn't feel her fingers, which
had gone almost completely numb.
"Hear me?" taunted the daimon, tilting its head to the side.
Unwashed hair fell in its face, and it gave that horrible cackle
again. A moment later and two more voices joined it, as the
conjoined sisters pulled back together.
The one with the blonde hair and the wide eyes, it sneered at
Makoto. "You hear me, but can you see me?"
"Can you catch me?" asked the third sister, tauntingly.
"Damn right I can!" snapped Makoto, trying to draw herself up to
her full, imposing height. Her auburn
hair had come loose from its band and now fell in her face,
stuck there with blood and sweat and grime.
"Try your best, snake-creep. I'll run you into the ground!"
And though it was meant to be a threat, the words lacked any
real strength. Makoto was tired and she was sore and she was
scared, because everyone else had already fallen.
For the first time in many battles, Makoto was on her own.
For the first time that she could remember, her powers were
useless.
Perhaps useless wasn't the best word, but uneffective. Fire may
fight fire, but lightning couldn't fight lightning. It just
didn't work, and her attacks seemed to do no damage to the beast
before her. To the cackling, laughing, terrifying creature.
The first one, with the unwashed black hair, it tilted its head.
Watched her for a moment. And then it lunged, mouth parted so
that its fangs were revealed and lightning crackled in the air.
Without thinking, Makoto stumbled backwards. Her left leg didn't
want to work right, and it was just as numb as her fingers. In
the flash of white that came with the attack, the crimson that
dappled her leg was clear. The torn skin and blackened flesh, it
could be seen even through the heavy rainfall.
The daimon hit the ground and rose right back up. The blonde
sister lunged, just as the first one had done. Again, Makoto
scrambled backwards with all the grace of an injuried alley cat.
The third sister lunged, and Makoto was expecting the pattern.
Thought she knew the pattern. But, at the last moment, it
swerved to the right. Straight towards the prone body with the
dark blue hair and the pale skin, laying in the mud as though
there was no life left in her.
But Makoto knew otherwise.
Ami, she was not weak. There was a slight rise and fall to her
chest that proved it. A barely there breath that Makoto did not
want to see extinguished, would not see extinguished, could not
let be extinguished.
And so, much like the daimon that had given her so much trouble,
Makoto lunged. Her body curled over top of Ami's, cold skin
against hot, and pain coursed through out her very being. Then,
before anything else could be registered, all that Makoto knew
was the pain of electricity shooting through her.
Then it was dark.
The storm carried on. The daimon vanished into the night, out to
terrorize someone else, to wreak havok elsewhere.
In another story, one that takes place far away from here, in
the remnants of a battle that was not won, the senshi would rise
back up and they would push on as a team.
In this world though? The senshi would come back, yes, but it
would not be the same. For now, they are trying to push through
the darkness to find the light, in a battle that should have
been aided by thunder and lightning and pure raw
determination...but was not.
For, as every storm will eventually run out of rain, one Makoto
Kino ran out of strength.
#Post#: 203--------------------------------------------------
Jason's Hands - for the hand challenge
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 26, 2013, 6:54 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
When they first meet, there is no feeling to Jason's hands.
Mostly because he is a ghost and Tessa a reaper, and that's just
how things went back then. After all, they were hardly friends
during those first few hours and days and weeks of knowing each
other. No, it was work. Just that, pure and simple.
Tessa's job was to collect the spirits of the dead, and that
was all that Jason was. An ethereal man with a corporeal body.
Work.
It was much the same for Jason. Tessa was a means to an ends.
Transporation from one life and into the next and, really, that
was what Jason was focused on. The fact that his life had ended,
painfully and brutally, with all those years ripped out from
beneath him.
Jason paid no mind to how Tessa's hands felt. In fact, he
cannot remember whether they even touched or not.
The next time they see each other, it is when Jason is first
brought back to life. Tessa was there only because Jason had
been her charge, and it was exciting to see someone regain their
life. Or rather, be given a second chance at life.
There is a lot of light and a lot of screaming but not all of
it is hers. Not all of it belongs to Jason. Some of it comes
from the long-dead throats of the other spirits, who are trying
to claw their way out into the spirit world once more.
Tessa has to help fight them back, so that only the soul of
Jason Fletcher can some through. Then she has to try and explain
what has just taken place to the confused looking human boy,
with those tired eyes that are peering out from a newely formed
face.
It had worked, and that made Tessa happy. So she reached out
and grabbed a hold of Jason's hands - only to jerk away a moment
later, because they were too cold, too frozen, too dark. They
were the hands of something dead and long gone. Of a creature
that should not have been alive, and maybe it was a warning?
Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, time went on. Tessa watched her
two boys on occassion, from a distance. Jason reunited with his
sister and Chris was pulled into the rowdy crowd of boys that
Jason was friends with. They fought together. They talked with
each other. And, when push came to shove, they were sent on a
mission together.
That, it is something that Tessa remembered so well. The
determination that shot across Jason's face, which was slowly
marred by grime and blood and a look of pure exhaustion that
could only be seen on a human.
Tessa watched Jason and Chris, as they made their way through
the forest and fought the nagini. And then she met them, met
/Jason/, and flung her arms around his shoulders.
"You made it!" she shouted, because she just couldn't believe
that the human had been able to pull off such a feat. "You
really made it!"
Jason grinned at her, but it was a tired sort of grin. Then
he took her hand in his own - and it was strong, that much Tessa
remembered. The grip of a fighter and a warrior, with just the
smallest hints of callusses that had yet to form.
By the time that Vepar was in the picture, Tessa had finally
come to grips with the fact that Jason Fletcher was not just any
human. He was something stronger then that, something that was
almost abnormal really.
Others, they would have had to stop. A strange demon knocking
at their door in the middle of the night, requesting help? It
should have at least made Jason pause. But the human didn't.
Just let Vepar into his home and bandaged her wounds. Gave her
food and drink and swore that he would find her child.
Then he swore to Chris that, were the other man not to help,
he would regret it. Tessa had laughed then and her boys had once
more taken off into the night. Made it all the way to the
Baron's castle before Tessa caught up, swept in, reached out.
Their hands clasped together, Jason's and Tessa's, fingers
twining. Tessa could feel the strain on her shoulder and the oar
beneath her shuddered. Looked down, but there was no fear in
Jason's eyes. Just trust.
And, later on, when the battle was won and Vepar's child was
saved, Tessa would realize something else. Not only had Jason's
gaze been filled with that unwavering trust, but his hands were
rough now. The skin at the base of each finger was raised and
hardened, and his nails had grown short and blunt. They were not
the hands of a teenage boy, but the hands of a fighter.
The hands of a soldier, realized Tessa with a start. Chris
had the hands of a fighter. Jason's hands, they were different.
They were the hands of a soldier that was willing to lay down
his life - and get the Hell off of my sister, you bastard!
The words shot through the clearing, and Tessa couldn't help
but smile behind her gag. Beside her, Megan shifted. And then
the human girl began to scream, a noise that was muffled by the
fabric over her mouth but still so very much there, so very
desperate.
Tessa couldn't figure out why until it was too late, and the
trap had already been sprung. Both Jason and Chris, they were
lost in that haze of light and fog and visions that weren't
really there.
Time passed, enough so that Tessa lost track of it. Wasn't
paying attention until that hand came down onto her own, and it
was heavy and large. Nearly twice the size of her own, realized
Tessa with a start, and then her wide-eyes travelled up to meet
the owner of the hands. "Jason?"
"You two okay?" he rasped, and blood spilled out from his
mouth with each word. But those hands were large and steady, and
that made Tessa feel comforted, even though Megan was crying
once more.
When Chris and Vepar and Meririt left the spirit world and
the human world for good, Tessa thought that the human boy would
completely lose it. But, much to her surprise, Jason didn't.
Instead, he rose up and seemed to be stronger in battle even as
he withered in life.
Humans were not made to be Guardians, and it was a staunch
reminder of that fact. Every day that Jason walked into Aviral's
office, went off on a mission, tried to patch himself up. It
very nearly made Tessa sick. She did not get to feel his hands
for many weeks, but she watched the trembles turn to shakes turn
to a constant vibration.
It scared her.
The last time that Tessa and Jason held hands, she was
crying. Tears ran down her face, cutting through the dust that
had settled on her cheeks. The war had gotten even to her, and
she was tired, so tired, and felt so alone.
"Don't go, please, Jason." begged Tessa. Her voice shook and
she curled both of her small hands around Jason's larger one.
The human's hand was warm, slick with blood that could have
been his, could have been someone elses, but was most likely
both. Even still, Tessa could feel the raised flesh and torn
skin, where callouses had been made and soft tissue ripped open.
"I have too, Tessa. This war, it's got to end. You know
that." said Jason, and his voice was hoarse. Throat probably
sore from having screamed earlier, when that daimon had gone
after him.
"Let someone else do it," insisted Tessa, unwilling to
release her grasp on Jason.
Jason just shook his head, almost crimson hair falling in his
face. "Like who? Chris? Vepar? Meririt? They aren't here, Tessa.
It's just me."
"But it shouldn't be!" Tessa shook her head, pulling Jason's
hands towards her chest. "It shouldn't be your job...this
shouldn't be your war."
Jason grinned, and it was a morbid sight. Blood smeared over
teeth and skin, lips swollen and face bruised. "Trust me. I can
handle this. Promise."
So Tessa did. Later on, she would realize that Jason had
finally made a promise he couldn't keep.
#Post#: 211--------------------------------------------------
Random Word - ongoing
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: March 26, 2013, 8:52 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Shadow -
"What is that?" demanded Luka, stepping backwards. There was
a certain tremor to her voice, the type that made it clear she
was afraid no matter how much she wanted to deny it.
Pasha's duel-ended tail twitched. She looked less then
impressed by the creature that was slowly pushing its way out of
Luka's bedroom wall. "It's a daimon. Magical girls have to kill
them, or they'll steal the dreams of innocent people. This one
is very low leveled, an A class at best."
"Low leveled?" echoed Luka, the disbelief clear in her voice.
With each second that passed by, the shadow beast seemed to slip
further into the room. What was once a formless, black shape was
now defined, with a narrow face and sharp, alert ears. Then a
body, sleek and wild all at once, bursts of shadow flaring off
of the being.
It almost looked like a wolf. One without eyes and made of
those dark wisps, which just seemed to vanish into the suddenly
thick air. It certainly didn't look weak. It looked fierce and
dangerous, and when it parted its maw, Luka could make out a row
of white fangs.
By the teenager's feet, Pasha nodded. Her dark eyes moved
from the daimon and onto Luka, who was just staring with wide
eyes. "Scary, isn't it? If you make a wish, then you could get
rid of it. Others like it, too. That's what a magical girl
does."
For a moment, Luka just stared at the daimon. And then she
shook her head, several strands of blue hair falling into her
face as she did. "No, I already said that! I don't want anything
to do with you or your weird wishes. So just make that thing get
out of here and leave me alone!"
"I can't," said Pasha, simply. "It knows that you have the
right soul type, but that you can't hurt it yet. It won't leave
until you kill it, or until it steals your dreams."
Saphire -
"Oh wow! That's so pretty!" gushed Tarny, suddenly straying
from the path in favor of pressing up against a storefront
window. Ignoring the small, white sign at the bottom, she
pressed both palms flat against the glass.
Luka was far from impressed, and gave a heavy sigh. If there
was one thing that she had learnt, it was that Tarny couldn't
walk past something shiney without stopping to gush over it. "We
need to go get that paint, Tarny. We shouldn't stop to look at
things."
"But Luka, just look at it! That color would look so good on
you!" cooed Tarny, motioning to one of the necklaces inside of
the display. "And it's on sale!"
Rolling her eyes, Luka moved to stand beside the taller girl.
They made an odd pair, no doubt. One tall and the other short.
One dressed in pink and skirts and jewelry, and the other in an
old teeshirt and a pair of pants, with cropped and dyed hair.
Especially as they were standing in front of a high class
jewelry store.
The necklace was pretty, Luka had to give Tarny that it. It
was short and silver, with etched charms scattered about the
chain in the shape of leaves. A saphire flower was perched in
the center of the necklace, which resembled a choker more than
anything.
"It is kind of pretty, I guess. But where are you supposed to
wear something like that?" Luka gave a snort, reaching out and
grabbing Tarny by the arm. "Let's go. We have things to do,
remember?"
"Yeah, I guess." said Tarny, but the disdain was clear in her
voice. She would much rather go in and look at the sale than go
to some dusty hardware store.
Luka didn't really care.
#Post#: 347--------------------------------------------------
Halloween Party - a 6teen story
DIR By: NimhZu
Date: April 7, 2013, 6:27 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
"This parties gonna be awesome, bra." said Jude, grinning.
Jen gave a small smile, tucking a piece of red hair behind her
ears. "I hope so. This is the first time that I'll be having a
party since my mom and Jonesy's dad got married."
From her spot at the table, Nikki gave a slight wince. "Ouch. So
does this mean the Garcia boys are all going to be there?"
"Unfortunately," sighed Jen. "Mom said that we had to let all
three of them come if we were going to hold it. I'm just hoping
that they get invited to go somewhere else for the night."
"I dunno. Little Dude at a Halloween party? That could be pretty
rad." said Jude, nodding. He crossed his arms over his chest,
slouching down further in his chair. "I mean, talk about scary."
Jen frowned, shaking her head. "No, no, no! He is not going to
go around making a mess out of my party!"
"Alright, bra. Take a breath. I'm sure it's going to be cool."
said Jude, waving one hand through the air. "You'll figure
something out."
-------
"A costume party?" Nikki groaned, letting the invitation flutter
out of her hand and onto the counter.
Behind her, the Clones gave one of their group cries, the one
that resembled a pod of dolphins and drove Nikki completely mad.
They were each clutching their own small piece of orange and
black paper, jumping up and down as if it were their pride and
joy.
"Oh, come on! You don't even like Jen that much!" said Nikki,
exasperated.
"So?" asked Kristen, frowning at the other girl. "It, like,
doesn't matter. Any invite is a good invite, especially one to a
costume party!"
Beside her Kirsten gave an enthusiastic head-nod. "Definately.
Oh, Kristen! Krissy! We should all go as Barbie!"
Another round of squeeling started up, this time accompanied by
three sets of clapping hands and jumping feet. Nikki gave
another groan, this time letting her head follow the path that
the invitation had taken only moments ago.
------
"I don't see why you aren't out here shopping with Jude," said
Wyatt, raising an eyebrow at the taller boy.
Jonesy didn't answer right away, too busy looking over the
costume in his hand. It was long and dark and kind of shiny but,
for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was supposed
to be.
Turning to face his friend, Jonesy held it up for Wyatt to see.
"What do you think this is supposed to be?"
A pause, as Wyatt looked over the costume. "It's a female
version of Manbat, from that new movie that just came out. Was
Jude busy?"
Jonesy snorted, shoving the costume back on the rack. "That
movie was stupid. Who would want to dress up like that for
Halloween?"
Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, suspicious now. "Jonesy.
Where's Jude?"
Jonesy paused in his search of that perfect outfit. "Well, I
don't actually know. I've been trying to call him all day, but
he isn't answering."
"So I'm your back up?" asked Wyatt, raising his brow in that
judging way of his.
The other boy didn't even miss a beat. "Yep, sure are!"
Wyatt threw his hands up, but didn't bother to leave. Later on,
he would wonder if he should have.
-------
Jude blinked, taking the outfit that was offered to him. He
tilted his head slightly, eyes squinting as he looked at it.
"Well? What do you think?" asked Caitlynn, eagerly. She had both
hands clasped in front of her, leaning forward slightly and
smiling at the other blond.
Lifting up the bottom piece of fabric, Jude ran it inbetween two
fingers. It was smooth, almost like satin. Light pink. Short. He
gave a low hum, as though considering the question.
Caitlynn leaned forward, as though her entire trip depended on
Jude's answer. In a way, it did. Jude couldn't show up without a
costume, and the party wouldn't be near as much fun without him
there.
After a moment, Jude switched to examing the top part of the
costume. Sheer fabric. Tank top. And a lot of beading, all down
the front and towards that light pink satin that had caught his
eye to begin with.
Caitlynn held her breath.
Jude hummed again. Then he smiled. "It's perfect, bra."
------
"So you haven't seen Jude at all today?" asked Jen, peering over
her shoulder at her step-brother.
Jonesy was still struggling with hanging up the streamers, bits
of orange and black paper tangled around his arm and stuck in
his hair. How he had gotten it shredded like that, Jen would
never know.
Just like she would never understand why he was having such
trouble with the tape.
It wasn't like it was that hard of a task. Tape, twist, and tape
again. Jonesy had been messing with it for almost two hours
though, and Jen was about fed up with it. The only reason that
she hadn't yelled at him yet was because he honestly seemed
upset for once.
Not just annoyed, but uneasy and upset. Which made Jen uneasy
and upset, because Jonesy didn't really get bothered by a lot of
things.
It seemed that having Jude ignore him, however, was one of those
very few things.
"I already said no," muttered Jonesy, angrily trying to get the
streamers to work the way that he wanted them too. "I've called
twelve times and he hasn't answered at all! Ignored my texts
too, and I
didn't see him at the mall at all today!"
"Not even at Stick It?" Jen sat the pumpkin that she had been
carrying down, nestling it at the base of the couch.
"No! I told you, I didn't see him at all today!" said Jonesy,
with a loud groan. The streamers slipped from his hand,
unraveling in streaks of orange and black as it plummetted
towards the floor. The tape followed a moment later and Jen was
scampering out of the room and into the kitchen before she had
to deal with any more complaints.
Because those streamers were going up, no matter what was going
on between Jude and Jonesy.
------
Despite issues on Jonesy's side, the party went off without a
hitch. The lights were dimmed, the black lights turned on, and
snacks were laid out in the kitchen. Everyone showed up in
costume, just as Jen had instructed.
The Clones, all three with their blonde hair straight and loose,
wearing pink dresses that differed just slightly. A white hem, a
longer sleeve, a row of shiney buttons down the front. Each wore
a necklace with a silve charm on it, bearing the word 'Barbie'.
Wayne, with cargo shorts and a loose fitting tee that wasn't
very different from his usual clothes. He claimed that the hat
he'd pulled on, taken out of his father's closet just the night
before, made him Indiana Jones.
Nikki and Caitlynn and Wyatt, all in costumes that they had
spent time on, money on, each with their own style.
And maybe Jen was a little preoccupied with talking to Caitlynn,
but Jonesy was not and most certainly did not miss the blond
standing at the table. Just next to the punch bowl, with a
pretzle ghost in one hand and a doughnut in the other.
"Jude?" questioned Jonesy, almost not willing to believe that it
was his friend standing there.
But it was, and Jude turned to grin at the taller boy. "Dude!
Awesome party man, Jen did not let down."
Jude offered part of his doughnut, holding it out to Jonesy. It
was ignored, in favor of dark eyes raking over the blond's
costume. Dress. Costume. Thing.
A shiney pink skirt that went down to Jude's knees, bruised and
scraped up from a fall taken just two days ago. A sheer top that
fit snuggly and showed all, and maybe Jonesy stared a little,
cheeks heating up as he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
Coughed and cleared his throat, but still wasn't really sure
what to say.
For his part, Jude was unphased and shrugged his shoulders.
"More for me then."
It took a moment for Jonesy to realize that the skater was
talking about the doughnut, which had already disappeared into
his mouth. Powder dusted thin lips, and Jonesy found himself
licking his own.
Then he shook his head - because what was he even doing? Better
yet, what was Jude doing?
"What are you wearing?" demanded Jonesy, using both hands to
motion to the pink dress and fake wings that his friend had on.
Jude grinned, holding his arms off to the side and turning in a
full circle so that Jonesy could see the entire costume. "You
like? Cait' helped me pick it out. The wings are pretty cool, am
I right?"
"Ye- no! That's a-" Jonesy just cut himself off and shook his
head, because it was Jude that he was talking too after all.
"Never mine. Where have you been all day?"
Jude blinked. "What do you mean? I've been over at Caitlynn's,
pickin' out my costume. Why?"
"Because I called you twel-twice!" exclaimed Jonesy, clearly
unhappy.
Jude either didn't notice the slip up or just didn't care. "Oh
sorry, dude. I dropped my phone this morning, going down some
stairs. I thought that Caitlynn would've texted you."
"Well, she didn't." huffed Jonesy, crossing his arms over his
chest. It was a clear pout, but he didn't care. Snorted and
turned away from the shorter boy.
A moment later, just long enough for Jude to realize that Jonesy
was made, warm fingers curled around
Jonesy's chin and turned his face, light and dark eyes meeting
for just a moment. Then Jude was on his tiptoes and leaned
forward, pressing their lips together.
Jonesy's mind came to a screeching halt, and everything seemed
to froze. Then it clicked without really clicking and he moved a
hand onto Jude's shoulder, the pads of his fingers pressing
against the almost coarse fabric there.
And then, before anything else could happen, Jude was dropping
back onto his heels. "Better now, bro?"
Jonesy blinked, hand hovering in the air for a moment before
dropping down to his side once more. "What?"
"Are you feeling better now?" repeated Jude, speaking slower
this time.
For a moment, Jonesy just stared, all red-faced and stomach
fluttering, like it was his first date all over again. Then he
gave a halting nod, not the least bit surprised when Jude's only
response was to turn
back to the punch table.
*****************************************************
Page 1 of 1