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Sun's Joy: Chapter Nine - Stalemate“That laugh...” Melissa said, paling. “That was Monobear, right?”
“It sounded like it...” Charlie added.
“So then...” Shauna began. “What does this mean?”
“I suppose it means that maybe Monobear is more involved than we first thought,” John said curiously, looking at Monobear. “Care to explain why your voice is heard during Andrew's murder?”
“I don't have to explain anything to you bastards!” Monobear roared.
“You sure do seem suspicious right now...” Chelsea said.
“Plus, it'd be a shame to end the game right now because you're behaving like a spoiled child,” Dirk said. “If it weren't for the situation, I'd be laughing my ass off at your stupidity right now.”
“Upupu~” Monobear suddenly giggled. “Upupu... bwahaha! This is priceless!”
“Priceless?” Mark asked.
“Yep!” Monobear chortled. “From the looks of i
Sun's Joy: Chapter Eight - Turbulent Tribulation“So, let's get this party started!” Monobear cheered from atop his throne, looking down at the fifteen ETL students. “Which of you bastards wanted to get out so badly that they threw our dearly beloved ETL Racer under the bus for it!” He motioned to Andrew's portrait, and feigned misery. “Will you make the right choice, or will a whole bunch of lives be condemned for their incompetence?”
“Oh, I'm confident that we'll come to the right conclusion,” Marian said smoothly, surveying the courtroom. “If only to avenge Andrew and deny you the satisfaction of killing us all.” The others looked at her in awe, impressed by her demeanour. She was just thankful that they didn't know it was a front put on for the sake of the trial.
“So, uh, how do we start this?” Joel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do we just like throw evidence to Monobear and try and get it right? Or just pick a culprit?”
“That'd be stupid,
Sun's Joy: Chapter Seven - Piecing the PuzzleDing-dong! Ding-dong!
“Attention you bastards! It is now seven am, marking the end of Night Time. The cafeteria has been unlocked, and the lights turned on. Here's to another day of mutual killing! Upupu~”
Naomi's eyes fluttered open. For a few moments, she stared blankly at the ceiling before sitting upright. As soon as she did so, a dull pain resounded in her head. She tried to move, but found that she was wrapped in a white sheet.
“Huh?” she said aloud as she took in her surroundings. She was in the meeting hall, with a table cloth wrapped around her. Gingerly she pulled it off, and looked at herself. She was still wearing her dress from the dance, and there was a long shallow gash along her right arm. It had stopped bleeding some time ago, though.
To Naomi's right was a buffet table: it had split down the centre, and there was a pile of food and drink scattered around. There was the distinct smell of booze in the air. It all came back to her at that m
Timeless - PrologueHead Gamemaker Portamento Dew, The Capitol
The warm August air whipped around the Capitol, bringing a lazy sense of joy to the bustling metropolis. The citizens either walked the streets, taking full advantage of the technologically advanced facilities, thanks to the hard work of the twelve districts, or remained at home, sprucing themselves up. Women adorned their finest dresses, whilst gentlemen were dressed to the nines: the children were in their Sunday best.
And, even though one couldn't see it from the window of President Snow's manor, there was a quiet buzz of anticipation about the city. Each citizen was only half-heartedly enjoying their daily activities: each mind was elsewhere, yet at the same place. Nobody spoke of it, and everyone continued as normal, ignoring the anticipation in the back of their minds, out of blind fear that they were the only ones to feel it. But the reality was simple: no citizen of Panem could escape the anticipation. For tomorrow was Reaping D
Sun's Joy: Chapter Six - Bad End NightThe dance was off to a great start. Dirk and Ella's custom playlist had gone down brilliantly: so far, there hadn't been a single track anyone had groaned at. The refreshments were to die for, and the decorations captured the atmosphere perfectly.
Melissa sat at one of the long buffet tables, sipping from a plastic cup of iced tea. She had cleared a space around herself, and her laptop was plugged in, a charger cord extending to the socket on the wall behind her. A word document was open, several paragraphs in. The white colouration of the screen provided the brightest light source in the room: the only other lights came from the disco ball in the middle of the room.
She glanced at the screen again, reading the draft of the story she was writing so far: she had told herself that there were more important things to do, but she needed to write. It was the only thing keeping her grounded throughout all this madness.
“And so what if I didn't go back for him?” he cuttingly re
Bipertitus - PrologueLOCATION: LAND OF FLOW AND INFINITY
TIME UNTIL RECKONING: 00:07:12
Blood splattered the golden floor, the crimson flow only interrupted by a foot stepping into the mess. He didn't know why he was still walking: ascension had given him the gift of flight. Perhaps it was out of a longing for the way things used to be. Or perhaps he was just tired of all this.
Only six players remained alive, despite his efforts, and four of those were in a parallel timeline that only he could traverse. Sure, he should probably go see them, but then he'd be leaving her alone. And it would be entirely unfair to expect her to be able to handle the Black King alone.
Maybe this was a doomed timeline. It would make sense, given how quickly so many had died. And there was no way that having three destroyed Quest Beds was right either. But hadn't they been careful enough? They had followed the Denizens' instructions to the letter; they had avoided prototyping the First Guardian, and they had taken out
Bridge ClosedIn the city of spires
thrust upward through the body of cloud
a piercing spike of adrenalin,
as the wind fondly ruffles her hair,
doesn't stop her from jumping up.
Reaching to be seen or saved,
by a city that blinks and misses her -
a temporary peak on the skyline.
Doesn't stop her from slamming
into the steel slashes
of the trainline below.
Even the most beautiful places
to those blinded by the inside-out-agony
of breathing against their will.
The city of spires remember her
as the cause for a bridge closed
on a Sunday.
Poem for My 2nd Semester English Teacher(Short v.)You stapled these words to the page.
Like a modern day tyrant,
You denied them the little humanity
You trapped their souls into
And threw them to the curb,
I understand that certain things
Should be left Inhuman
But we even give hurricanes names.
You taught us to separate the person from the art,
But if the art is about that person, you can’t pull them apart
The SundancersThe sundancers crease the sky ephemerally
and stain the floor with their bravery, eternally.
FlamesThere are flames where
his head should be -
a poem left in the fireplace,
a dressing gown, a pipe,
forty pieces of silver.
This man promised you a winter
so warm and bountiful
spring would be ashamed.
He called you by name -
not the one that father knew
shoved under his bible.
But the one left behind
in the branches,
in the bucket of brambles,
and the columbines
buried at your feet.
Stones on the battlefield,
surrender in the grass.
What did his face
even look like behind the curtain,
counting those coins
and loosening the damp earth
from your shoes?
Did I Mention To You MarkiplierDid I mention to you Markiplier,
A man with so much love to share?
He's one of the few in this world
To take the time to show his care.
Did I mention to you my hero
Who helped me to lay down my knife?
He brought to light my joy inside
And reminded me the temporariness of strife.
Did I mention to you my saviour,
Who made me come to love me?
He blesses this world with all his work
In his constant support and charity.
Did I mention to you this humble man,
Who cares for the world deeply so?
He makes you laugh and makes you cry
Through the genuineness he shows.
It's hard to believe that this one man
Could inspire so many to chase their dreams
And prove to all who hear his words
That it may not be as difficult as it seems.
You call us your heros, your shining stars.
Thank you Mark for all you do.
It's people like me who want to prove
That the real hero is you.
FriendshipFriendship is a tapestry
Woven through the years
With threads of joy and laughter
Happiness and tears
It's a work of art so priceless
It's shared by a precious few
Yet so easily created
By a loving friend like you
on moving outI take my bookends. I take my whiteboard
and that crooked letter opener I use to pop the caps off
beers, I take my poems,
I take my brand-new never-used coffeemaker
and my decades-old over-used typewriter which weighs
about 6 babies. I take my pictures, and those letters
you wrote me;
I do not take you. I take the
PS2. and the broken lamp. and your
shirt. I take no shit.
but my own shit.]
I take a blanket,
my good underwear
and a deck of cards.
I take my cat.
I burn the rest.
to nurse doe (whom we all know) i watched her
blood orange heart
cleanse and suture
old bullet wounds and
new bouts of lilacs,
lime, and blue
her alcohol and aloe
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