Short Story

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Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Fri Mar 08, 2013 3:48 pm

This is a story I wrote for a paper my senior year (a year ago). It's supposed to be "short", but, heh. :sweat:
Just pretend there's the required number of spaces at new paragraphs and speech, because for whatever reason they aren't happening here.
I feel bad posting something so long on here, but I don't know how/if I can do attachments or some sort of link.
Looking for criticism (constructive, preferably; but whatever you desire :lol: ). Although the ideas were floating around in my head for a couple days in advance, I basically sat down and wrote this in two hours. And except for fixing a few accidental contradictions in the storyline, I tried not to tweak it too much, so I could get the original critiqued. Plus if I nitpicked at it I'd die of old age before I was satisfied. :eyeroll:
Also, the medieval knowledge I applied to this story consists of some interent sites I read and crammed into my brain. So sorry for anything I got wrong in that area.
Before anyone asks, yes, my username is named after a character in this story. I guess you could consider this an excerpt from a book that I'm hoping to someday finish.
Anyway, enjoy, and critique away!

EDIT: I've decided to take Broly's advice and condense my story into a link, so it's not taking up so much space. Also, it's alot more convenient for me. And we'll know who really cares enough to take all the extra effort and click on a link to view my work. ;)

Life of a Thief

For whatever reason, it slaughtered my paragraphs and spaces and such, but hopefully I'll get it fixed at some point.
Last edited by ClaecElric4God on Mon Apr 29, 2013 7:50 am, edited 3 times in total.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Crossfire » Fri Mar 08, 2013 5:05 pm

Heh, I still think you should become an author. This was an extremely enjoyable read, the only problem I have with this project is the fact that you haven't posted more of it. :lol:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Wolfsong » Sun Mar 10, 2013 12:53 pm

awesome!!!
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Re: Short Story

Postby Cheetah » Mon Mar 18, 2013 8:55 am

I don't know Claec. I spotted several unnecessary 'ands' in there.
Just kidding. Sorry, but if I were a writing critic I could critique my own writing.
I love your story. When are you going to write the real thing?
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Sat Apr 27, 2013 2:14 pm

Well, this is completely unrelated to my last short story, but I figured there's no reason to clog the writing forum with threads created by me, so I'm putting it in here.
First off, I'm no Goldy, and this is in no way an attempt to copy her style. Sorry if it comes off that way. This is...technically...my official surrender in the Sour Cream War. Those of you who've been hiding in the spinach thread, you can come out now.

Prologue

The Sour Cream Reich. The Country of White. Bittersweet Homeland. Those were a few names given to the country ruled by that atrocious “food”.
Legend has it sour cream used to be shunned and hated by most. People were narrow-minded and lacked taste, and they refused to even try it. But then a young Canadian with an adventurous personality broke the ultimate law, and ate of the forbidden condiment. Newly enlightened, he realized that sour cream was edible, and he embraced it's bitter-sweet taste. Eventually he convinced others to try it as well, and sour cream became a popular condiment across the vast expanse of Canada, eventually reaching the rest of the world. But as wonderful as it initially seemed, the sour cream finally ate away at their very beings, corrupting their souls and giving them the desire for world domination. They were so convinced that sour cream was the best staple in existence, they forced it on those around them. Many resisted, but the power of sour cream was simply too great, and even those who loathed sour cream passionately were forced to submit. The Nauzis, as they would later be called, eventually overthrew the Canadian and U.S. Governments, establishing their own dictatorship with none other than “the boy who started it all” as their leader. Thus began a dark and oppressive era for North America.
Sour cream became the main form of sustenance, day in and day out. Once the Nauzis finally realized that sour cream was a dairy product, they shipped massive herds of dairy cattle in, and the people were forced to spend their days fermenting cream to produce the topping they lived by. Factories went up all over SCR dedicated to the manufacture of sour cream. Sour cream three meals a day. Sour cream-based sports. Sour cream cosmetics. Specialty shops where the only specialty was sour cream. Every month, once a month, a day was announced where people were allowed to eat something that wasn't sour cream, as long as it was generously topped with sour cream. This was an effort to satisfy the few who still hoped for a free North America. However, any signs of rebellion or discontent were quickly dealt with, and the offender severely punished. Hope began to flicker and die in the hearts of those who clung to the thought of a better life. It was time for drastic action...

---------------------------------------------

Sour Cream Rebellion

Beep. I grumbled to myself in irritation, staring at the fuel gauge. The needle was pointing at empty, and the light was on. But with my Jeep, you never knew if it was actually empty or if it just thought it was.
Oh, well, I thought to myself. I don't have time to get gas. If it runs out, I'll just have to use my super ninja skills to ghost the rest of the way there.
I glanced at the map spread out on the passenger seat. Just a bit farther. I'd been driving for 2100 miles nonstop, living off of jelly beans and root beer for the past four days. And yet, despite my recent diet, I still couldn't get that taste out of my mouth. It haunted me, ate at the very core of my taste buds, and clouded my judgment. Sour cream. Having gone four days without eating it, my mind was clearer than it had been for years. But I wasn't sure I would ever be able to get that awful taste out of my mouth. It had become a part of me, embedded in my cells, buried within my gums and tongue.
Despite the totalitarian nature of the Sour Cream Reich, there were still a few who resented its ways, and sought to bring a change to North America. There were those of us who still held onto the belief that we could have a world without sour cream. Of course, I didn't know many of them, but the ones I did know were very dear to me.
Cheetah was one of my closest allies. Considering we lived in the same vicinity, it made sense, and we often supported and encouraged each other through these hard times. She was loyal and brave, but not highly logical, and constantly made nonsensical remarks and overall acted like she had a few screws loose. She was short, quiet (until you got to know her...), and overall hard to pin down as far as personality. She wasn't very strong, and therefore was seldom ever seen crying or showing any form of emotion. She messed up a lot, though always with the best of intentions.
Oddood198 was another...acquaintance of mine. I hesitate to say friend, because I don't want to jump to conclusions and hurt his feelings. Odd and I met in time of adversity, when I rescued him from a horrible situation in which he fell into a sour cream vat and was almost eaten alive. At first he was so indistinct and boring I jumped to the conclusion that he was a girl, simply because I never got a good look at him or heard his voice. He quickly corrected me on this issue, however. At a whopping 6'0'', Odd stood head and shoulders above everyone in a crowd of people under 5 feet tall. He had a very creepy, indescribable face, that almost looked like a badly drawn portrait. Extremely sensitive, Odd was prone to crying at seemingly insignificant things, which somehow accentuated his manliness.
I can't really think of any other people I knew who necessarily hated sour cream, but I'm sure there were lots. And there were those who liked sour cream to some extent, but not very much and only with certain things. To them, that day when they were allowed to have tacos, chili, or perogies with their sour cream was heavenly. Three of these were close friends of mine, Banana Lobster, Wolfsong, and syphon. As much as I hated sour cream, I was willing to forgive them for this poor judgment. They were willing to allow me my distaste, and also knew that the mistreatment of anti-sour creamers was wrong. For this I was grateful, and our friendships blossomed.
My most complicated friendship by far was that with a girl named Konekochan. Kone was an avid sour cream lover, but she was so friendly and lovable, we'd become fast friends before we realized the difference between us. But our bond spanned the social gap between us, and we'd managed to remain close despite it.
And then there was me. Simply put, I was amazing. There wasn't much I couldn't do, except outrun a pack of angry wolves or keep up with a boring conversation about anime critiquing. Food-fighting, threatening people with knives, planning world domination, dispatching legions of ninja assassins to protect the borders, and witty back-and-forth banter were just a few of my hobbies. But most importantly, I had been born with an innate repulsion for sour cream. No matter how many times I'd been forced to eat it, I could never develop a taste for it, and I had vowed to myself that someday, I would be the one to put an end to the Sour Cream Reich, and free my brethren.

To be continued...
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: Short Story

Postby Wolfsong » Sun Apr 28, 2013 11:14 am

umm....sour cream and I have never been close friends...if I ever seemed non-anti-sourcream, it was because I was trying to be polite. Let me put it in a frank, totally honest way....

...

:mutter: SOUR CREAM AND I HATE EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :mutter:


:lol:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Broly Ultimatrix » Sun Apr 28, 2013 3:43 pm

I love the thieves’ story. It was well written and though, after converting most of the Next Gen rp and correcting many a spelling and grammatical error, my brain has started putting the appropriate pauses and words where they weren't, while they were in your story I hardly noticed them. It also felt very accurate of the time, given my limited knowledge of medieval times and history in general, and I felt like I was watching a rendition performed at a renaissance fair, which I have attended :P . I don't know what you do for a living, but you, like my friend Raider~joseph, have that natural story-telling ability that I would love to see shared with the world :) On a somewhat unrelated note concerning the posting of large blocks of text in a forum you could do what I did the first time I tried to convert the Next Gen rp from this site to short story format and upload your documents to Scribd. Then you can post a link in the forum like sharing a photo through Photobucket. I posted roughly 70 pages of story on this forum doing that and it only took 2 forum pages of me and others feedback of the product.
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Sun Apr 28, 2013 6:50 pm

Broly Ultimatrix wrote:On a somewhat unrelated note concerning the posting of large blocks of text in a forum you could do what I did the first time I tried to convert the Next Gen rp from this site to short story format and upload your documents to Scribd. Then you can post a link in the forum like sharing a photo through Photobucket. I posted roughly 70 pages of story on this forum doing that and it only took 2 forum pages of me and others feedback of the product.

Thanks for the advice. I've been trying to figure out something like that. That's extremely helpful.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: Short Story

Postby Broly Ultimatrix » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:23 pm

Well I'm glad it was helpful and I look forward to frequenting this board in the forum more often. :)
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:35 pm

Broly Ultimatrix wrote:Well I'm glad it was helpful and I look forward to frequenting this board in the forum more often. :)

Well, I'm on a sour cream rampage at the moment, but I should get back into the real thing soon enough...
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: Short Story

Postby Crossfire » Sun Apr 28, 2013 11:24 pm

Hey now, dictators aren't all that bad. In fact, the leader of the Nauzis seems like a pretty cool guy. I bet he's astonishingly handsome to boot.
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Mon Apr 29, 2013 9:02 am

I knew when I'd crossed the Canadian border. The air felt more sinister and treacherous. And a lot colder. After a few miles, I saw a light faintly in the distance. I quickly turned off the headlights, and searched the roadside for an opening in the foliage. But it was the Canadian wilderness, how could I have expected it to be anything but wild, untamed land? I frantically veered off the road and crashed into the brush, driving straight through the trees and bushes, then killed the engine. My heart raced, and I couldn't help but hold my breath. Sure enough, I heard the faint hum of a vehicle engine, and after a minute or so, I saw it. In the dark, I could barely make out a silver smart car, Smart ForTwo by the looks of it. I ducked down and shivered, knowing it was a patrol car for the Daisy Compound.
That's where I was headed, much to my chagrin. I'd had my fill of the place for a lifetime, but there was something I needed to do. Although I hated going back there, my sense of loyalty wouldn't let well enough alone.
The Daisy Compound was a horrible place. It was a large, concrete building, surrounded by a high, barbed-wire fence, and worst of all, a deep trench filled with sour cream. This was the place where people were brought when they committed acts of rebellion or showed signs of discontentment. After arriving at the Compound, the individual was confined in a small room, called a Dollop Chamber, and forced to listen to the Daisy® commercial tune for hours on end. After hours of this mental torture, they were removed from the chamber and forced to write – サワークリーム – 159 times, before finally being sent home. Just thinking about it gave me goosebumps.
After the car finally passed, I gave it two minutes before I turned the key in the ignition. The engine tried to turn over, then sputtered and died. I pounded a fist on the dashboard. I knew I should have saved some of that luck I'd had. I was just so generous, I'd managed to give it away to all my friends when they needed it. And now I was stuck in the wilds of Canada with a broken down Jeep and nothing more than a handful of jelly beans, a knife, a flyswatter, and my uncanny instincts. I grumbled to myself and shoved my hands in my pockets. I knew I was almost there, but I didn't relish the thought of expending that much energy. How was I supposed to live up to my reputation of being lazy if I was running around all over the place? And what about the Canadian geese? Any moment now they could sweep down and use their V formation as a pincher maneuver to envelope me and attack me with their vicious hissing and biting.
As I stood there, thinking about how I would be picked apart bone and flesh by a less than endangered species of bird, I felt a sharp thwack on the back of my head. I spun around, clutching my poor injured skull, and stared into the woods. In the overwhelming darkness, I couldn't make out any distinct sign of life. I looked down to see what had hit me, and there at my feet, was a crab apple.
“I told you not to go by yourself,” a familiar voice called out. “What were you thinking?”
I sighed, waiting for my heart rate to go back to normal.
“Wolf, you really need to find a less heart attack-inducing way to announce yourself.” I knelt down and picked up the apple, good-naturedly tossing it back in the direction it came from. My eyes were adjusting to the dark, and I could just make out a girl my age walking toward me. Two beautiful wolves flanked her, acting as guardians, while a third walked alongside her, letting her rest her hand on its head. I tried not to act nervous, remembering the first time I'd encountered these wolves.
As long as you don't run, they won't chase you, I told myself. Don't run.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Mon Apr 29, 2013 10:21 pm

Shaking off the feeling of danger, I forced a chuckle and patted Hopper, Wolf's lead wolf, on the head. He eyed me and growled deep in his chest, and I quickly retreated to a safe distance.
“So what're you doing here? You do know this is Canada, right? It's not safe.”
Wolf glared at me, and I realized that might not have been the best thing to say to a girl with three wolves and a confident attitude at her command.
“I'm here to help you, dummy. With that broken down heap,” here she gestured to my Jeep. “How are you supposed to get to the Daisy Compound? It's a good 10 miles from here, and there's no way you won't be spotted!”
I hung my head, realizing that she was right. My plan had spiraled into the depths of failure, and I didn't know where to go from here. I sighed in resignation.
“I'm sorry, Wolf. I know I shouldn't have tried it alone. But I can't ask you to help. After all, you like sour cream. It would be going against your bel-”
Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a shower of crab apples rain down on me. I put my arm up to shield my already injured head, and looked up to see that somehow Wolf had scampered into a tree while I wasn't looking, and was launching apples mercilessly.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” She yelled in exasperation. “I. Hate. Sour. Cream. Why you think I like it is beyond me.”
“Wait, you do?” I lowered my arm, trying to think of an occasion that Wolf had told me this, but the memory escaped me. Of course, my memory was atrocious anyway. I shrugged.
“Well, then,” I tried to hurriedly divert the conversation away from my forgetfulness. “What do you propose we do? I mean, I'm all for your help, but I'm not sure what our options are. By the time we get there, it'll be too late.”
Wolf climbed down out of her tree and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Don't worry, Claec, he's stronger than you think. We'll make it in time.”
I looked into her eyes and saw a sheer determination I hadn't felt in years. Then I felt a sharp thwack on my arm.
“And really,” she sighed. “I can't believe you would assume that I don't have a plan.”
With that, she turned and walked off into the woods, gesturing for me to follow. I noticed that suddenly the wolves were nowhere to be seen, and that kind of unnerved me. But I told myself to grow up, and quickly followed Wolf's quickly disappearing silhouette into the forest. After walking a little distance, we arrived at a large oak tree (at least I thought that's what it was; it was pretty dark). The trunk was about three feet in diameter, and there was a large hole in the base, revealing that the tree was in fact hollow. Wolf crawled inside, and after a slight hesitation, I followed suit.
The tree was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside. Hanging from the walls and piled in the corners were what looked like an arsenal of miscellaneous items. Most of them looked harmless enough, but I'd learned that anything could be deadly if thrown by Wolfsong. Coiled in the corner was a large hose, with the nozzle resting in a puddle of brown liquid. Ah, good times.
Wolf heaved open a trapdoor, and we both descended into the darkness. She flicked a switch, and the space was bathed in light. As it turned out it was a tunnel, though how long it was I really couldn't say; it made a sharp turn just a few yards down, making the space feel small and cramped. Lining the walls were even more interesting and random objects. They were all so ridiculously unrelated, I couldn't fathom what she did with all of it, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
Wolf whistled, and I heard a low rumble coming from farther down the tunnel. It got louder and louder until it mounted into what felt like an earthquake. I put my hand against the wall to brace myself, telling myself not to run away in terror. Wolf just stood there with her arms crossed, waiting.
When the noise was almost too much to bear, it suddenly stopped short, and I knew that whatever had caused it was just around the bend in the tunnel. But instead of running toward the trapdoor in terror like it seemed was the most logical option, Wolf actually walked toward it. She waved a hand for me to follow just before disappearing around the corner. I hesitated, wondering if my mission was worth dying for, then reluctantly followed.
As I rounded the corner, I saw before me something truly awe-inspiring, and realized that it was actually more beautiful than terrifying. Packed in the tunnel and milling excitedly, were what must have been 20 wolves. But instead of wandering around, looking for someone to eat, they were all lined up and hitched to a small cart that might have been a modified dog sled. Wolf was climbing into the seat of the cart/sled.
“Come on,” she called impatiently. “You're the one who said we didn't have much time.”
After getting over my initial shock, I nodded and quickly clambered aboard. I barely had time to shift into a comfortable position and grab hold of something substantial before Wolf called out something I couldn't decipher, and the wolves sprang into action. They expertly backed up a few yards, then turned and pulled the sled down a tunnel that branched off to the right. They started off with a slow trot, and I had time to survey the surroundings. Apparently, the lighting system had been installed all throughout these tunnels, because we were never completely enveloped in darkness. I noticed that we passed a myriad of tunnel openings, occasionally veering off into one of them, and I realized that Wolf must have a network that spread across all of SCR. As we picked up momentum, everything became a hypnotic blur, and I realized that all that driving had taken its toll on me. The rhythmic thumping of the wolves' feet and the hum of the cart's wheels finally had their way with me, and before I knew it, I'd drifted off into the land of the weak.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Wolfsong » Wed May 01, 2013 4:14 pm

LOL that was awesome!!! I loved how you worked all the tunnels and stuff of mine in. Those chats really are fun, aren't they?

...oh, one thing, I'm not that eager to throw things at you, am I???..... :( maybe I should tone it down for a while...
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Wed May 01, 2013 7:19 pm

Wolfsong wrote:...oh, one thing, I'm not that eager to throw things at you, am I???..... :( maybe I should tone it down for a while...

lol, sorry if I made you look mean. I guess I overdid it a bit...We all know you're super nice and sweet. :) Besides, I deserve to get things thrown at me. :lol:
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Fri May 03, 2013 6:05 pm

I wasn't sure if it was the abrupt stop or Wolfsong's sharp whisper that woke me up. Either way, I jolted awake, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and trying to remember what was going on.
“Claec!” Wolf whispered again. This time she shoved me, and I went sprawling out of the sled.
“Ow, ow,” I groaned sleepily. “What was that for?” I stood up slowly, checking to make sure that all of my limbs were still intact.
“You were out like a light,” she replied shortly. “How else was I supposed to get your attention?”
“Oh, I don't know. Maybe something like, 'Hey, Claec, we're here, time to wake up'.” I dusted myself off, trying to recover my dignity. “Besides, I wasn't really asleep, I was just thinking deeply.”
Wolf snorted, climbing down off the cart and making hand motions to her lead wolf. The wolf looked at her and seemed to nod, then as if by unspoken consent, the whole team lunged against the braces and smoothly took off, melting into the darkness. I couldn't help but wonder where they were going and how they were supposed to get loose from that sled.
At first I couldn't figure out why we'd stopped in the middle of nowhere, but on closer scrutiny, I realized that there was another trapdoor built into the ceiling, blending perfectly with the color of the dirt. The only difference from the trapdoor we'd come out of before was that this was in the middle of a tunnel, rather than at the end of a branch-off. Wolf pushed open the trapdoor, and we both climbed through. We came out in what looked to be another tree, though slightly smaller and not as well-stocked. Most of the stuff looked ordinary and mundane, as if it was trying to maintain an air of innocence. Although a furnished hollow tree seemed a bit suspicious anyway.
Outside the tree, it was still pitch black. But the air here was different. It was still Canadian, that much was certain. But it was intensified. A slight breeze carried the stench of sour cream toward us, and my hair stood on end. That must be the sour cream moat. An old, familiar feeling of dread and anxiety came over me, and then I heard it, ever so faintly.
Do, do, do, do, do – do a dollop.
I resisted the urge to clutch my head and scream. Waves of horror washed over me. What had I been thinking? There was no way I could go through with this. Nothing was worth this pain. I'd been foolish to believe I was ready for this, and heartless to bring Wolf along. Regret overwhelmed me, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and drown my worries in coffee.
I felt a steadying hand on my arm, and realized that Wolf had just kept me from losing my balance. I nodded gratefully at her and struggled to regain my composure.
“We'll be in and out, like that,” Wolf reassured me. “Easy as pie.”
Once I felt like I could walk without falling over, we silently headed through the darkness toward the building. Luckily, the pine tree we'd emerged from grew inside the compound. This way we wouldn't have to deal with the fence, and I was more than a little pleased that we'd managed to avoid swimming, or rather floundering, through the moat. The music became more distinct as we got closer, but I'd strengthened my resolve, and my confidence kept growing. I finally felt in control of the situation. We approached from the side of the building, and backed up against the wall.
The Daisy Compound wasn't very large. The moat was about three feet wide, and right up against the fence. It was made of concrete, with the far wall rising about four feet above the level of the sour cream, making it nearly impossible to reach the fence and climb out. Between the moat and the building itself was a perimeter about fifteen feet wide. Inside, there was a row of rooms around the walls, and a block of rooms in the middle of the building, creating a hallway with facing doors every few feet. There were about thirty Dollop Chambers in all. I'd been here enough times to know from memory that the guards consisted of two at the main entrance, two that patrolled the grounds outside, and one patrolling the hallways inside. My only explanation for the astonishing lack of guards was that the inmates were too incapacitated to try to escape, and no one in their right mind would try to infiltrate the building. Lucky for me, they didn't keep tabs on their citizens' mental condition.
Light footsteps caught my attention, and I motioned for Wolf to stay quiet. We plastered ourselves against the wall and held our breath. Someone was walking casually around the building, almost looking half asleep. As the figure got closer, I recognized Cleanedbyblood. She was one of the SCR's best units, though it was rumored that she was clinically insane. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I realized that she was actually looking around, as if searching for something. We crouched in the shadows, hoping she'd be too bored to notice us. As she walked past, I noticed she had ear plugs in her ears, apparently to keep out the monotonous music. She had a wild look in her eyes, and I instantly knew the rumors were all true. I shuddered to think of what she would do if she found us. But as luck would have it, she simply walked past, as if we weren't there. I breathed a sigh of relief, and we quickly moved to the corner of the building.
I craned my head around, and saw the two guards. They both seemed to be busy doing something, sitting off to the side hunched over something, sharing a pair of headphones. I tuned my acute hearing to try to figure out what it was. I heard Japanese voices I didn't recognize (considering I don't know any Japanese people at all), and realized they must be watching anime. One of them leaned back and laughed, and sure enough, there was an Ipad resting between them. I couldn't figure out for the life of me how they could watch that over the music. Regardless, I knew this was a perfect opportunity, and we rushed over to the big glass doors, quickly pulling them open and slipping inside.
It was trickier to stay hidden inside, since the halls were lit and there weren't any shadowy corners to shrink into. I realized that we would just have to outrun the guard and make sure we stayed in a different hall. I listened closely and realized that whoever it was, they were in the hall right behind us, and I ran for the corner, feeling like Link running through the courtyard looking for Zelda. Except the one I was running from wasn't blind or stone deaf. Well, unless they were wearing ear plugs too, which was a distinct probability.
As we rounded the corner, I read the room numbers: 2015...128...33...2...35...56. Wow, these numbers were haphazard. As we got down to the end of the hallway, I finally saw it. Room #198. An idea dawned on me, and I dragged Wolf around the next corner just before the guard came into view. I whispered my idea to her, and a creepy, evil smile crept across her face. She pulled a crab apple out of her pocket and tossed it experimentally into the air. The footsteps got closer, and just as the guard came into view, Wolf chucked the apple full force, and it went flying toward an average looking guy I thought I recognized. The apple made impact with the side of his head, and he crumpled to the ground, out cold.
I feel your pain, buddy, I thought sympathetically.
Wolf filched his ear phones, shoving them in her pocket. I looked at her quizzically, but she simply said, “We'll need them later,” and gave me that look. Realization dawned on me, and I nodded my head in understanding.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and counted to ten. There was no telling what I would find behind this door. And with that, I gently turned the handle, and pushed it open.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Wolfsong » Tue May 07, 2013 4:16 pm

I'm on the edge of my seat here. Who's behind the door?
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Tue May 07, 2013 8:12 pm

The Dollop Chamber was a small room, about 5'x5'. The room was completely unfurnished, and the walls were painted a bright, unnatural white. Sitting in the corner, hugging his knees, was a young man. He was rocking back and forth, sobbing violently, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. Dressed in a black t-shirt and pants, he looked vaguely ninja-ish, except for the word “TARDIS” printed in large steel blue letters on his shirt. He looked so small and vulnerable huddled in the corner, but when he was standing up straight I knew I didn't even come up to his eyebrows.
As I stepped inside the door, he looked up fearfully. Tears streaming down his face, his eyes glazed over, he looked like he was struggling to remember something. As his eyes met mine, there was a flicker of recognition, and he seemed to relax a bit. I sighed, then walked over to him. I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to him. To be honest, I wasn't in the least bit shocked. I told myself it could have been far worse. He blew his nose noisily, and handed the tissue back to me. I gingerly took it between two fingers and stuck it back in my pocket.
“Alright, Odd,” I told him gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Party's over. Time to go home.”
He looked at me in confusion, struggling to make sense of what I was saying. I crossed my arms and waited patiently for him to come to his senses and respond. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly stood up, albeit a bit wobbly, and wandered toward the doorway. Wolf met us at the door, and offered him the ear plugs. He took them like a starving animal and hurriedly shoved them in his ears. He closed his eyes and sighed, and after a few moments we decided he was well enough to move. Ready to support him should he fall, we slowly made our way back through the building. By the time we got to the exit, Odd had gathered his wits to some extent, and was able to walk without hesitation and follow my instructions. Even though he was still out of it, it was safe to assume he'd be okay eventually.
Fortunately, the guards were still watching something, and we were able to slip past Cleanedbyblood with no incident. Before I knew it, we'd made it back into the tree, and Wolf was calling her pack again. As we boarded the canine transportation system, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and allowed the tension and apprehension to flow out of me. Somehow we'd made it out, and I wasn't really sure how. Of course, now I had that stupid song in my head, and it would probably be forever before I got rid of it. I started to casually hum “This is the Song that Never Ends”.
As we made our way through the tunnels back to my Jeep, Odd sat hunched and looking dazed. But as we rode, he slowly straightened, and the light returned to his eyes. I looked at him with quiet concern, not sure what to do to help him. I sighed, then turned to look at the intriguing wall zooming past us.
“This was all my fault,” I thought sullenly. No sooner had it come out my mouth than I felt that familiar numb pain in my arm. But as familiar as it was, I couldn't help but cry out.
“What was that for?!” I shouted, rubbing my sore arm. I couldn't take much more of this battery.
“Of course it was your fault!” When I spun around to glare at Odd, he was suddenly fully conscious and very angry. I inwardly smacked myself for talking out loud. “What were you thinking?!”
“It was an accident, okay,” I defended. “Plain and simple.”
“Accident my foot!” He was getting angrier, and looked like he might start crying. “You totally did all that damage, then left me with the blame!”
I sighed. It was true that I had in fact poured ten containers of sour cream all throughout the Nauzi HQ of my hometown, and I had technically asked Odd to come help me out. But I'd timed it perfectly while they were all on their pumpkin pie and sour cream break, and I was sure we'd have at least ten minutes before they came back. How was I supposed to know that one of them had a gluten allergy, and would end up coming back early? And it was Odd's own fault for not getting out soon enough. I mean, it wasn't like I was supposed to watch over him like a little brother, or something. So of course, when he was left standing there and I'd already managed to get out, he was framed for it, and made me look like the bad guy who uses people like pawns. That's why I'd felt obligated to go back to that awful place and rescue him.
“Well, I did come get you, didn't I?” I quickly mentioned, blocking another hit.
“I should hope so!” He retorted, folding his arms and huffing at me. “You'd be an even bigger jerk if you didn't.”
“Touche,” I sighed in resignation. I was too tired to argue, and of course he was right. I was a huge jerk for letting him get caught and not sharing the blame with him. Of course, I'd do it again in a heartbeat...
“Well, I promise I won't let it happen again, okay?” I asked, trying to satisfy him. He glared at me a bit longer, then sighed heavily grumbled something under his breath. We continued on in silence for awhile, each of us lost in our own random, chaotic thoughts.
“That's it,” I said with finality.
“That's what?” Wolf asked. Odd ignored me, pouting in his corner of the universe.
“I've had enough,” I decided. “We're going to do something about this. And I don't mean interior decorating with sour cream. I mean something big. We need a change.”
Wolf and Odd both sat pensively for a moment, as if considering the possibilities. Then, as if by unspoken consent, they both nodded firmly, and it was decided.
“We need to have a meeting, and gather everyone,” I stated with determination. “We're going to do something big.”
Suddenly, the wind blowing across my face brought a new sense of hope. A rebellion. That's what it would be. We would change North America for the better, or fail trying.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Wolfsong » Wed May 08, 2013 5:32 pm

Yay, we saved Od! I just have one burning question Claec.
Are we in this by ourselves?
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Wed May 08, 2013 5:36 pm

Wolfsong wrote:Yay, we saved Od! I just have one burning question Claec.
Are we in this by ourselves?

Hmmm...Only time can tell. Tune in tomorrow (or whenever I get time to write.)
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Thu May 09, 2013 8:20 pm

The drive home was long and tedious, but at least I got my Jeep running again. The more I thought about my brilliant plan, the more excited I got. Of course, the plan wasn't exactly, formulated, yet. But I'd figure it out eventually. Even now, as I prepared to face my comrades and allies, ideas were running through my head. I'd epically announced that I was going to rebel against the Sour Cream Reich. And I planned on surviving. Yeah, that was totally going to work.
I sighed as I walked down the hall. It was an ordinary school building, but it was totally foreign to me, who had grown up a homeschooler. All the different rooms and hallways, it was so confusing. But apparently this was the best place for all of us to gather, so we'd settled on meeting in a random art room. As I approached the room, which I'd finally found, I slowed down, suddenly unsure of myself. I heard familiar voices coming from inside and knew that I was the last one to arrive. I took a deep breath, composed myself, and entered.
Inside were all the people I'd requested to come. Wolf, Odd, BananaLobster, Kone, Cheetah, and Jeremy. My closest friends and the only people I knew I could trust. Wolf, Kone, and BL were sitting at one corner of the table, looking like they were conspiring about something. Odd was sitting by himself, eating pie. Cheetah was standing off to the side, combing through her hair with her fingers, as if she was looking for something. And Jeremy was sitting quietly, staring off into space. Oh, I never mentioned Jeremy, did I? Well, Jeremy was syphon's twin brother, and someone I trusted far more than his brother. Syphon always seemed so shady, like he could kidnap someone at any moment. Jeremy was a lot like his brother, but perhaps a little less evil.
As I walked in, they all turned to look at me, expectantly.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” I started. Confidence brimmed inside me, and I quickly walked over to the table. “You all know why we're here, so I'll get right down to business.
“We need to a plan. We need to get the Nauzis' attention, and let them know that we're not happy with the way things are going. We need to stand up for ourselves and show them who's boss.”
I saw Odd and Wolf exchange a furtive look, before Wolf gently raised her hand. I nodded for her to say what was on her mind.
“Odd and I have been talking,” she said. “I know you have your heart set on this rebellion, but maybe there's a better way to handle things.”
“I don't know what else we can do,” I said frustratedly. “Except live in this horrible, sour cream infested country.”
“That's just it,” Odd countered, chiming into the conversation. “We don't have to stay here.”
I looked at him questioningly.
“Why don't we go to the border? I've heard rumors that Ace33Wing has a spinach refuge for people fleeing the oppression of the SCR. We could go there. It might even be a good chance to regroup, and come up with something. But for now at least we could have peace, and avoid confrontation.”
“Did that song get to your head, or something?” I asked incredulously. “First off, do you really think you can be happy, buried in all that spinach? And second, everyone knows it's just a front for his “cross the border” organization. I doubt he's actually granting refuge to anyone. I'm telling you, the best way to handle this is offense. We can't keep letting them control us! We should be able to eat potatoes, and burritos, and cookies!! We should be able to go years without ever tasting sour cream!!”
I stopped to catch my breath, trying to calm down. I waited for a response. Slowly, Odd nodded his head. What I'd said sunk in, and they all started nodding. BL was the first to speak up.
“Well, I'm with you, Claec!” She said excitedly running over to stand next to me. Then they all chimed in with encouragement and excitement, and I knew that they were all on board.
“So what's the plan?” Kone inquired.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby goldenspines » Thu May 09, 2013 8:50 pm

ClaecElric4God wrote: First off, I'm no Goldy, and this is in no way an attempt to copy her style

This is news to me, I didn't even know I had a style. XD; I'm happy if my attempts at self amusement inspired you to write this, though. This is great fun so far and I like the first person approach you're using as well as the quirkiness portrayed nicely for each character.

ClaecElric4God wrote:
Wolfsong wrote:...oh, one thing, I'm not that eager to throw things at you, am I???..... :( maybe I should tone it down for a while...

lol, sorry if I made you look mean. I guess I overdid it a bit...We all know you're super nice and sweet. :) Besides, I deserve to get things thrown at me. :lol:
Welcome to the wonderful world of creativity. XD No one will fully be satisfied with how you portray them, I think.
Funny fact, I was actually thinking of putting Wolfsong in my story's next chapter (when i update a million years from now), does this mean I don't need to now because she's in your more awesome story? 8D

I can't wait to see what happens next!
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Fri May 10, 2013 12:27 pm

goldenspines wrote:
ClaecElric4God wrote: First off, I'm no Goldy, and this is in no way an attempt to copy her style

This is news to me, I didn't even know I had a style. XD; I'm happy if my attempts at self amusement inspired you to write this, though. This is great fun so far and I like the first person approach you're using as well as the quirkiness portrayed nicely for each character.

Wow, I can't tell you how honored I am that you took the time to read this ridiculous thing, let alone enjoyed it!! I am so pleased to hear from you on this. Now I'm nervous. :sweat: I'll have to actually put effort into it now.
goldenspines wrote:Funny fact, I was actually thinking of putting Wolfsong in my story's next chapter (when i update a million years from now), does this mean I don't need to now because she's in your more awesome story? 8D

Oh, no. You still have to put Wolfsong in your story. She's way too awesome to contain in one story. And we might need your story to salvage her reputation after being in mine.

Anyways, thanks again for the input. You made my day!!
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby Wolfsong » Fri May 10, 2013 4:06 pm

ClaecElric4God wrote:
goldenspines wrote:Funny fact, I was actually thinking of putting Wolfsong in my story's next chapter (when i update a million years from now), does this mean I don't need to now because she's in your more awesome story? 8D

Oh, no. You still have to put Wolfsong in your story. She's way too awesome to contain in one story. And we might need your story to salvage her reputation after being in mine.

Anyways, thanks again for the input. You made my day!!

I read this and...I started laughing so hard I woke my mom up, and she got soooooo mad at me. :lol:
Thanks Goldy and Claec, you both are super-awesome. And don't worry Claec, I've already set up a reputation as a nutcase, so...you haven't done too much to it. It is extremely hard, handling both the titles of Evil Incarnate (my brothers' title for me) and Super Hero (my prefered title) at the same time. I think you're mixing them together extremely well. Congratulations, you're the first one who has.
One more thing, Claec, thanks for saying I'm awesome. Most people nowadays seem to think I'm the scum scraped off the bottom of last year's unwashed socks. :brow: Thanks for thinking so highly of me. I love you too.
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Re: Short Story

Postby syphon » Sat May 11, 2013 4:01 pm

Im no critic but Wow that was really good. Can't wait till you post more if it! I liked the personalities you gave everyone. Really funny :D
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Re: Short Story

Postby SilverToast » Tue May 14, 2013 6:12 pm

lol this is great. A front for a "crossing the border" organization. I have no idea what you are talking about. ={D hehe
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Mon May 20, 2013 11:38 am

They all turned to me expectantly, and I gulped inwardly. This was the hard part. What was my plan? Then it came to me, all in a rush.
“Anybody have an atlas?” I inquired, looking around quickly. Jeremy quickly pulled an atlas out of his pocket, and handed it to me.
“Thanks, Jeremy,” I stammered, a bit caught off guard. “That's quite...resourceful.” Weird.
I flipped to the Canadian pages, and found Alberta. I ran my finger across the page, and quickly pinpointed what I was looking for. I laid the atlas out on the table and gestured for everyone to gather in. We squeezed in and hunched over the table. With a circular motion of my finger, I indicated an area in the general ---- area of Alberta.
“This is where the major production of sour cream is, the capital of Alberta. There's a huge factory where they process tons of it and ship it to all the major district checkpoints.”
Here Wolf chimed in. “So it's like the life force of the sour cream industry?”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “So if we're going to have an offense, this is the best place to hit them.”
“Isn't that a bit bold?” Odd countered.
“We're already asking for trouble,” I pointed out. “So we might as well go the whole nine yards. We'll get their attention and let them know that we mean business, while at the same time inspiring our fellow anti-sour creamers to stand up for themselves. As soon as we get this out in the open, we'll need allies. I mean, we make a pretty awesome team, but there's only so much that six people can do against an entire Nauzi army.”
“So how exactly do you plan on 'hitting' them?” Cheetah asked tentatively. “Will it involve pouring boiling coffee on people?” Here she got unnervingly eager, and I noticed Jeremy sidling away.
“Probably not,” I said absent-mindedly, lost in the depths of my master plan. I was staring at the map, daydreaming about the demise of the SCR. The door slamming snapped me out of my fantasy.
“Claec!” I grunted in surprise when someone jumped on me from behind, and I turned around to see Panda standing behind me, holding a stick of bamboo. I was surprised to see her as a normal looking girl, since she was usually wearing a panda suit.
“Panda! How are you?”
“I'm good,” she replied. “But what're you guys doing? This looks important, but you didn't mention it to me.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said awkwardly. “Well, I heard you were off on a panda rescue mission. I didn't want to bother you.”
“Oh that,” she waved a hand dismissively. “It was no big deal. There was just a misunderstanding between the pandas and the moles, and I had to keep them from going to war.”
“Wow,” I whistled, impressed. “And everything's okay now?”
“Yup, and they gave me this bamboo as payment!” She said excitedly, snapping a piece off and munching on it. “So what's up?”
“We're going to fight the Sour Cream Reich!” BL chimed in. Panda looked at me questioningly.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, ignoring the conversation. “I figured it out! It's brilliant!”
“What?” Odd asked doubtfully.
“What's the best way to get under a government's skin?” I asked.
“Make fun of their grammar?” Jeremy asked.
“Copy their culture!” BL suggested.
“Take credit for something they did,” Kone added.
I shook my head. “The leader...” I thought for a moment. “Anger their leader.”
“Who, Crossfire?” Wolf asked incredulously. “Are you crazy?” She thought about the question, realized what she was asking, then said, “Right.”
“Alright, here's the plan,” I continued. “Everyone knows that Crossfire is a man of many tastes. It's rumored that he'll eat any of the most exotic foods on the planet, especially Norwegian food. But I've heard from a very reliable source that he has one weakness.”
Everyone leaned in expectantly, obviously burning with curiosity.
“Cherries.” I saw the skeptical looks I was getting, and quickly continued. “We'll infiltrate the packaging section, and somehow mix cherries into all the tubs of sour cream.”
My face contorted into a wicked smile, and I started laughing maniacally. “I can just see the look on his face when he cracks open that container! His regime will be ruined!” I started losing myself in the laughter, thinking about how wonderfully awful it was.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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Re: Short Story

Postby syphon » Mon May 20, 2013 3:12 pm

Yes! You added more, this is too hilarious. XD agian i cant wait till you add more
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Re: Short Story

Postby Panda4christ:3 » Mon May 20, 2013 3:50 pm

I'm in here??? >//< *is honored* ...i want a panda suit...though I'd probably end up looking silly

This story is wayyyy too funny >u< can't wait for more lol
"People need fear, we experience it so we can grow stronger"-Maka Albarn
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Re: Short Story

Postby ClaecElric4God » Sat Jun 01, 2013 12:46 pm

“Claec,” Wolf ventured, tapping me gently on the shoulder. “Claec!”
I gasped when a rush of cold water flowed over me, and whipped around to target my assailant. Cheetah was standing behind me with a bucket, smirking.
“ I knew that would snap you out of it. You have issues, you know that?”
I just shook my head and turned back to the table, wringing out my shirt.
“All right, so that's the plan,” I stated with finality. “Who's with me?”
Panda, BL, Kone, and Wolf were the first ones to raise their hands enthusiastically. Jeremy, Odd, and Cheetah slowly agreed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I turned to Odd.
“What about Dox? Do you think he'd be willing to help us out on this one?”
Odd put his hand on his chin, thinking for a moment, then nodded. “I don't know why not. This kind of thing is right up his alley. I'll talk to him about it, but like I said, he'll probably be too excited to pass it up.”
“Thanks, Odd,” I said. “By the way, where is Dox today? I'd hoped he'd be here.”
“Oh, he told me to tell you that he's sorry he couldn't make it. He had an extreme battle against S.M.O.G., and wore himself out. He wanted to come, but I told him to rest and recuperate.”
“Well, I hope he gets better soon,” I offered.
“So here's the deal. I have to get some information, such as the layout of the factory, guards, defenses, that kind of thing. I can't come up with a strategy until I know more about what we're up against. And I know just who to ask.”
Cheetah looked at me, and I could tell she knew what I was thinking.
“Claec, are you sure that's a good idea?” She queried. “You don't know anything about him. How do you know you can trust him? I mean, he likes sour cream.”
“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” I argued. “He's a vast database of knowledge, and I don't know who else can get me the information I need. I don't know why, but I feel like he would be willing to help us out.”
Cheetah shrugged. “Your funeral. Don't expect me to bail you out if you get killed.”
I ignored her comment and continued. “So I'll get that taken care of tomorrow. I'll get a battle strategy put together as soon as I can, so we'll plan on meeting the day after, if that works for everyone. We'll figure out some mode of transportation, and head straight to Alberta.”
Everyone chimed in their consent, and excited conversation started up throughout the room. I stood back and looked proudly at my band of rebels. This was going to be awesome. Of course, that was only if I survived my encounter with the information broker.

I looked down at the piece of paper in my hand, carefully reading over the directions again. The instructions were random and whimsical, and I felt like I'd been on a wild goose chase for ages. Of course, that fit the person I was looking for exactly. I'd been lucky to find someone who knew where he was, so shrouded in mystery was he. Of course, most people didn't care to know where he was. His very name struck fear in the hearts of many.
I tightened my fist, crumpling the paper. I wasn't one of those people. I was willing to do anything to make my dream a reality, even if it meant staring death in the face. I wasn't afraid of this guy. He was a person, just like anyone else, wasn't he? I shuddered, afraid to try to answer my own question.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost walked right past it. The only reason I didn't was because a loud smashing sound caught my attention, followed by a vehicle screeching out of a hidden driveway and swerving recklessly onto the road, almost running me over. I dove out of the way, rolling into the ditch on the side of the road. As the car zoomed past, I pulled myself out of the dirt, dusting myself off as I muttered about people who couldn't drive worth a lick. Then I quickly looked down at my directions again, and realized this was what I was looking for. I turned into the driveway, which led to a small house enclosed in dense forest.
The house looked ordinary enough, but it had an air of danger about it, and I immediately tensed up, every sense tuned for the slightest sound. Parked next to the house was a vehicle with a huge dent in the back, and I realized why that driver had been so frantic to get away. I pitied him when I thought of his fate once he was caught, considering whose vehicle he'd damaged. It would not end well for the poor fellow.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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