Search Results

Ugh, this took so long to make, and I'm so glad the first chapter is over. Basically, this is a story I wrote during a boring Algebra I Honors class. I am so glad right now, but so tired.

And I'm sorry it's confusing. It's meant to be like that. I'll explain in the remaining four chapters.

Amnesia Does Exist
001: Precognition Through Appearance​

Body numb, and visual sight being distorted at the moment, I feel weak. As if my day couldn't get any ******. My eyes adjust to the dark foresight, all I can see is faint light from the dying bulbs within hanging lights. But through that frustrating light, I see scars of bright white upon the metal walls. It showed for its past of torturous psychosis.

Looking in front of myself with eyes of no expression, I hear absolutely nothing but snoring and whispering. More people existed through these seemingly barren hallways. One of them so happen to be sitting in the cell across from mine. The teenager turned to me with awakened eyes to only be staring into my eyes, and then back down to my straight jacket.

These straight jackets. So constricting, it agitates. This odd feeling of wanting to slice through the sleeves with my arms, is becoming abundant. But ignoring my emotion at the moment, the person across from my cell, began to speak towards me. Hopefully, the conversation would be as ******ed as the guards.

"So, you're Data 0136. Am I right?"
"Data 0136? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Don't tell me they injected you ..."
"Injection?!"

My yell echoed through the hallways which altered that snoring into shock, and the whispering became copious with the rest of the voices. The whispering calmed me for some reason. But then again, so did the loud hum of the built in fan that so happened to be blowing my long, red hair softly. Calm and expected for a conversation, I looked back at the teenager with my light green, tired eyes.

"Mind telling me where I am?"

You could tell the person didn't want to have to repeat himself. But as he took a sigh, the unknown presence began to talk.

"It's a long story."
"I'm not going anywhere. I've got time."
"Good point."

Here came the silence once again. Already, I began to feel friendly to this person across from my cell.

"You are in a prison, as you can see. But it's not very ordinary, as you can tell by your fan. I'm guessing they injected you with some sort of Amine. Which, is basically amnesia inducing interjectional material. If not that, you must have hit your head pretty damn hard when the guards threw you in."
"You still haven't answered my question. It's obvious we are in a prison, but what prison."

Sighing, the boy leaned up against a wall to then continue the conversation with relaxation. "Tokyo. A prison classified for only those who possess abnormal, metaphysical powers and abilities. In other words, a place to lock up those who the old folk hate because we accidentally stepped on their lawn. Little did they know they were probably talking to one of us supernaturally enhanced people."

The story seemed confusing, and cliche, at first glance. But soon turned into something more believable. I mean, I have a clean police record. How possibly could I be thrown in jail? And with a straight jacket, at that. "Now then, what is Data 0136?"

"It's you, obviously."
"No shit."
"It's a codename to keep people from freaking out."
"Because they might know who they really are?"
"Pretty much. You see, riots in this prison begin when some schizophrenic dumb ass gets under so much pressure, that they go completely mad. Just goes to show how mad this place can get."
"You told me about injections. Experimental procedures, I'm guessing?"
"Bingo. This place is strict with that stuff, just letting you know."

Sure as hell, I could tell that. If you think about it, it's sort of just like a futuristic concentration camp that doesn't drive you mad. Already ten minutes awake, and I find myself tired, bored, and hungry. Time unknown, I could only draw the conclusion that it was night time by the low illumination through the square windows.

But what had me puzzled was, what the hell was this guy's name?

"If you are wondering, my name is Kazu." Kazu was reading my mind. Perhaps he had some sort of mind reading abilities. Of course, it was obvious. Or maybe this person just really knows how to start a good conversation. I could never tell the difference.

"How about your name, Mystery Data?" Now it was Mystery Data. Why the nicknames?
"... Ashida."
"Ashida? That's rather creative. Nice to meet you, Ashida."
"Likewise, Kazu."

Not for an explanation. Preparing to ask a question, I braced myself for the story Kazu was certainly ready to tell. But, as I asked a question, it was shocking how Kazu could be asleep. Sitting alone in that open, metal cubicle. I could feel the fresh air, and the nice cold vibe, unbelievably. Why is it so comfortable? My guess was they were afraid of us. Make us feel calm to prevent our madness. Sounds reasonable.

Now, who am I? Why am I here? It's sad how I only can answer the first question. Ashida Burea. Being nineteen and would be considered not so usual, all I can remember now of myself is that I am in a band. The name that was faded both literally, and figuratively within my mind, came back to me steadily. But I never thought through it. I had more concerning matters, as rude as it sounds.

Who am I? Really. This all seems like something from a cliche mystery book. The only unfortunate part, is that science fiction would be fitting within the same combination. Heh, more like non-fiction. Living through something that was just context and dreams, I fell asleep as I eased my mind away from the crowding thoughts. And to only find myself dreaming ... of a girl.

Two Rockstars, three friends over, some Norma Jean, Slipknot, and Underoath, and then some skating with some terrible singing by moi on Rock Band later, I find myself beat.

I don't think I've ever been this tired, yet hyper before. Damn ... xD

Anywho, how are you all?​

Have you ever noticed that for each accent / language, that they have their own little words?
Even for the ones that seem like they don't?

Now, this is bluntly obvious, but still, I keep thinking about it more than often now-a-days.
Like, for instance, you realize that for England, you occasionally hear words like "bloody" or "cracking". Or maybe for a bigger example would be Scotland. They always paraphrase their sentences through not speaking with "g" a majority of the time. And you just got to love it when they say "wee". So adorable. <33

Yes, Kitty, I'm talking about you. <3

Anyways, here's a quick question: what do you say that relates to what I just talked about? Do you have a habit of saying certain words?​

Wow, I won Best Normal Member?
You don't know how happy this makes me. I really appreciate this award, and I'm gladpeople such of me, honestly. And congratulations to the runner-up, RRMS, and all other nominees for being so awesome during the awards.

I can't believe how happy I am for this. And you guys here on KHV are surely so awesome. I'm glad to be on such a website with all of you. <3

And for everyone else who won and competed in the awards, congrats onyour wins and nominations. It was a fun time, really.

Again, thank you all. Love you all. <33​

Yes, I'm talkin' about Kingdom945.

Well, I thought would make a video for Britt after a MSN conversation. And this is the idea I had for the second Skyler Quickie. But this is seriously a present that turned out to be what it was.

And yes, these are actually improv videos.

So, I hope you all enjoy it. And after an hour of filming, this was really stressing to make.

And CnC would be gladly appreciated. Thank you. <33

Here you go. :3​

s p e c t r u m

Mystifying blade held in this girl's hand.
She cries rainbows,
And shines techinicolor through a broken realm.
The glass breaks even before the violet killed the red.
Colorblind and tragedy,
The vodka's never smelt so seducing before.

Gorgeous, but eerie.
Lovely, but suicidal.
Holding, but killing an ego at the same time.
Would it be bad that I'm attracted?
I'm stressing with these images.
Can't seem to make a frame without the blood.

Sorry that I wasn't there to fill your glass.
I was busy attempting to revive my person.
Bowing on one knee,
Somehow, voices are saying to me that I wed you.
I'm trying to face you without sexuality.
Marry me,
And we can die drunken together.​