Saint/Sinner
'Call me a saint, call me a sinner. I'll still kick your ass'. - Anon.
Only through the memories we hold dear can we truly recall the passion we hold for them.
'Call me a saint, call me a sinner. I'll still kick your ass'. - Anon.
Yamato woke with a splintering headache. He felt as if he'd been whacked across the back of his head, what with it being in some serious pain.
Computers were never his strong point. Even though he could program a phone into a city hacking weapon, to code his way into the capital's records was beyond him.
It was rare that Yamato struggled with a contract. Rarer still that he worked with others.
'...the Tarmac' shorts were something I came up with some time ago, around the beginning of when I first came into the Opuss community.
It had been almost seven years since we last heard from her. Some say she went insane after I last spoke to her. What's that. You're asking if I was the one who turned her. No, no, I doubt I did that.
When I look up, I see the stars. When I look down, all I see the road. When I look ahead, I see the trees in the wind. And when I look behind... I see you.
Consider this an honour, honey. Call out those that mock you. See what they say when I show what I've given you. What's that. 'Stop this madness?' Kehahaha. Are you kidding me?. I'M the one who's mad.
Ooooh, lovely, thunder and lightning. My biggest wish was to have a flash and bang in my bed at night..
To say that it'd give you freedom would be an understatement. To finally be free from the chains imposed by your parents. You can go wherever you like now. No matter where it is, you could reach it.
He could do nothing more than puzzle at the games, unsure of her moves. What made her make such a risky move. Was it for his own sake.
What is fear. An emotion of the human mind, or is it simply a reaction given when we find something that disagrees with the natural order of society.
Are we simply a question to ask, a programmed race to simply respond with robotic answers. NO. We are not those sorts of people. We are the insignificant, the pathetic, the freaks.
'In the eeeend, as we fade into the night. Ooooh whoaooaaa. Who we'll tell the story of your LIIIIIFE!' Sometimes, I can see an image of a girl dangling her legs over a cliff edge.
Happy new year, you miserable drunken loveable bastards..
Probably one of the best games. Of all time. And all it is, is blocks. Smegging. Blocks. HOW?!.
Darkened streets, moonlit pavements, quiet roads. The bangs of the fire above, and the 'Oooh's' and 'Aaaah's' from onlookers. The distant pound of bass from nightclubs. Yamato grinned.
Here I am, under the tree, Not entirely sure if I'm free, Wondering when ol' fatty will come, Waiting to see if he'll bring joy and fun.
A mate and I were talking earlier. And at one point, he sent me this: Dragon > sword At this point, a swirl of logic popped into my brain.
I just realised something. God I'm a lazy shit. I've not written a single thing in ages. School and stuff. And Rena... Well... Lets just say that irl Rena and I...
I went to the pet store the other day and I asked the shopkeeper if he had any animals that could help me in my everyday life.
1) Sexier people. 2) Less-of-a-dick people. 3) Ass. Ass ass ass. 4) More ass. 5) Being able to write more. 6) Stop complaining about being able to not write. 7) More money would be nice.
River let out a sigh as she fiddled with the dart in her hands, the speck of red at the tip. She really wasn’t all that surprised, considering who it was who messed up the plan in the first place.
As it happens, schoolwork is a massive pain in the ass. Why. Because it takes my freaking time up. Ugh. So annoying. Trust me, doing college work and writing does NOT mix well.
The wind seemed remarkably still that evening. All he could hear was the whistle of nightbirds, and the occasional blare of a horn in the distance. Few people were still out at this time of evening.
Bloody figures. He writes the story, keeps it in Notes for over five days, and forgets to post an update. Well screw it, I'm going to post them. Hi guys. It's me, Rena.
There's a few things I should try and clarify with you guys. Over the holidays, these past six weeks, different things took over my life. A short, brief but wonderful romance.
I've seen people teetering on the Edge, Watching them overlook the ledge, Unsure of where to go in life, Watching them struggle in their miserable strife.
This isn't really a blog, nor is it practical. It's more like a rant about shit, but there's not a category for that, so let's stick with blog. Right, this rant. This rant, readers, is about 'Ranks'.
Ingredients 3.75 oz Gordon's Gin 1.25 oz Vodka 0.65 oz Kina Lillet Lemon peel for garnish Prep Work 1) Pour all ingredients into a cold shaker, with ice. 2) Shake until 'ice-cold'.
Ingredients 0.75 oz Scotch Whiskey 0.75 oz Cherry Brandy 0.75 oz Sweet Vermouth 0.75 oz Orange Juice Orange slice for garnish Prep.
Welcome to a new series, called the 'Bar Edge'. Every now and again, I'll be posting a recipe of an alcoholic drink that you could make yourself.
You know that feeling you get when you walk past someone and you think, 'I know that guy, I'm sure of it.' I'm not that person you're thinking of.
You know that feeling when your whole world just seemingly... stops.
This was rare. I'm the one who's having to open up the studio first. Usually, the tech guys would be here long before I turned up.
"Ugh...Mmm... Oww, man..." It took him a few moments for his eyes to open, and then a few more to understand where he was. It seemed that Alex was inside a wooden hut of some sorts.
Unfortunately, this week, the ToLife show will not run tomorrow. Sam has a driving test the following day, and so he'll be up at around... 6AM.
Y'know, just browsing through a few things on here, and the amount of people who don't know how to press that bloody return key is making me insane. It's not that hard.
Sports day. If it's warm, it's an excuse to have a big 'fuck-you' water fight. And trust me, when you get to have a water fight with Rena... Well, you get the drift...
"Aleeeeex. Where are you Alex?" The voice surprised him. "Oh, dammit, not now!" he whispered angrily, hastily trying to cover his nude body up.
"Drink away your sorrows till you're looking through the bottom of an empty bottle." - A drinking buddy of mine..
I sighed, annoyed at myself. A whole week had passed, and not a single, bloody thing has been written. Absolutely nothing. I couldn't get my head gears grinding. They were just sitting there, dormant.
One of the stranger things about this thing is the fact that I can just write as I usually would, sitting here at this desk, and yet have the characters I created sitting around me, living and...
So, it was late that night when Tyler sat down in a chair, on the Vocaloids main tour bus, with all the Type-2 Vocaloids present, and a few of their variations.
The girl opposite him gave the boy a sly look, challenging him to try. 'Just try and kiss me,' she said in her eyes, those deep-green eyes that he had seen before and had once thought beautiful.
It was out in one of Paradise's many bars that Sarah realised one of the better things about being a girl can be.
There's three people in jail; a mental freak, a pervert, and a homosexual. The mental freak says, "If there's a cat here, I'm gonna fuck it!" The pervert grins, and says, "Oh yeah.
I let out a sigh. "Finally here," I muttered, setting down my bag. "Let's hope that the others are here too." The studio that we were all meant to be wasn't particularly grand, to be honest.
Rena woke with a groan. Her forehead felt like it was split in half, her chest was feeling FAR too heavy, and her arm was once again aching.
Something I COMPLETELY forgot to mention. And it's big XD There will be two new stories coming this month.
The young girl walked down the hallway with her mother on one side, and a boy of the same age on the other.
Oh, hell yeah. Crack out the booze, soak up the sun, and let's get that music on. Exams are finally over. Which means I can write again. Thank. FUCK.
I went with the wife to her old school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken bloke sat alone at a nearby table. Dunno why, the bastard looked like he couldn't tell his arse from his elbow.
“'Oh, Ben… No, no, not– Yah. Ooohhh…'” “'I love you, my darling.'” “'And I love you' BD. BD. Wake up!” BD abruptly woke from his dream, shaken by Nate.
The rumbling came slowly to a halt, and the unmistakeable sound of a door opening entered her ears. “Last stop: Angel city.
Whilst all of this had been going on, something perhaps even worse was happening. Dani had just waved Travis goodbye. She could feel the Bacardi hitting her head.
Gaaaah, 4 down, 3 to go. And it's not freaking easy. Right, that's over with, let's get on with the stuff you care about, shall we. Firstly, Hacker.
It seemed that it had been a while, for Travis Maclean that is, that the sun shined on the hateful school that was Green Hill High. He adjusted his shoulder bag, and undid his top button.
(To start off, a little note. This has nothing to do with wars. W.A.R.S. stands for We Are Really Stupid. This is a teenage style stand-alone series of chapters.
To be honest, I wish that on the other side that the female version of me is a lot like myself. Courtney Taylor, that would be her name.
After a hard day of work, you're probably tired, right. The wife is home, kids are on their way from school. She gives you a kiss, asking 'How was work, dear. 'Fine,' is the answer we always say.
Faith led the other two to a building with a neon sign hanging over the top that read: 'Be someone else - literally!' There were glass windows that allowed the people outside to peer inside a waiting...
Zack was out on the high street, trying to find the nearest bank to withdraw that repair money. "Jeez, why's this place so....
"... ake up....... sir, wa........ sir, wake up!" "Gaah!" said a young man, perhaps eighteen years old, maybe nineteen if only a glance, shooting bolt upright in a seating position.
A continuation of First Time A rasping sound escaped her lips, as if she hadn't taken a breath in a long, long time. Her eyes were wide, and confused. Hadn't she died. She was sure he killed her.
Inspired by zoombeeny's Murder Prize People say they're like everybody else, but they're not. People look at them and would swear they're normal. But they're not.
It is in our darkest hours that we see the truer light in people..
A young man moved into a new flat and went to the lobby to put his name on the postbox. Whilst there, an attractive young lady comes out of the flat next to the postboxes, wearing a dressing gown.
When Rena awoke, she found that it was nearing the dawn of the next morning, and the chilly air ran across her fur as she got up from the chair.
Rena crumpled up the paper again, and placed it back in the massive breasted corpse's hand, before making her way around the house.
Rena opened her green eyes to the world, her face half buried in something soft. Sand. "What the-?" she groaned, looking back and forth.
Rena found her room quick enough, unlocking it with the key card that was sent through the post by her client.
The story of the prodigy hacker Rena Westfall began with this: running. "Shit, shit, shit, shiiiiiit!" cried the feline, sprinting across the harbour towards the magnificent HMS Seacross.