...Does anyone know where pyro is? He's been gone for a while and we need a new question time. Hm.
I luvs ya. You're such a legend on khv. <333
Sorry guys, but I think it's time I took a break from here. Something happened last night, and I probably will only tell my closer friends about it, but it crushed me into pieces on the spot. It really threw life into perspective, and I don't want to sound like a total preacher here, but I've learned that life isn't all sweet-smelling as it seems. I know that I'll be back someday, maybe next week, the week after, I don't ****ing know. I would do shout-outs, but you're all on msn so what's the point? For those who aren't on my msn list, just add me if you want, I'm not paticularly bothered right now. I'll appear as invisible, just to let you all know. Bye my loves, you're all such lovely people. Emzy <3
...Whoreface ;D
Okay. I can't sleep. I need sleep. But I just can't. I'm bored. Very bored. WHAT THE HELL DO I DO? luvyouall<3
..I'll sit on the front porch all night... Ah, Owl City. I love him. Anyways, I got bored tonight and decided to mess around with a few picchas. Up for use and all that shizz, but I would like some CnC on them. Thankyou! <3
[insert dramatic music here] ;~; Sorry guys, I love you all but...but...I'm going. Spoiler ....For the weekend that is. :lolface: Oh, I got you there, didn't I? Aharhar. I'll see you guys monday/tuesday. I'm going on a break with my family to Blackpool (inb4lolchav) So.... yeah! I love you all <3 Don't have too much fun without me now, kay? Emzy <3
He's the guy that made my childhood, in my opinion [: He's the author of some of the most popular children's , which include: The Twits Charlie and the Chocolate Factory James and the Giant Peach Fantastic Mr. Fox Matilda The Witches and The BFG. Did anybody here read his books as a child?
I needed a creative release. Something is bugging me and I need some way to channel it; what other way than writing? CnC appreciated greatly. *** I remember when we were children; the autumn leaves used to seem so fascinating as they danced about our miniature feet. You used to laugh along with me as we both skipped in the breeze that shook the dying world around us, with the frequent occurrence of tripping and tumbling into the bright orange sea of crunch and snap... How fantastic. I remember when we were young; the ice that laced the ground beneath our feet seemed so amusing to jump upon, and crack into tiny pieces. We used to find big strips of it, like a large white stripe in the road, and take one big run-up towards it, and then skid across it like the ‘ice surfers’ we were. We went through so many sachets of hot cocoa and marshmallows; how did we stay so healthy? I remember when we went into our secondary school; we walked into the gates together, and swore that we would walk out together. Friends to the end, never walking alone at our times of need and worry. That night, as the sun dipped from the sky, I swore I felt the wind of change shudder through my bones. I remember when I hit my teens; I had a limo that night and we ‘hit the town’ in such style. You bought me a grey teddy bear holding a pink present, with the words Always and Forever written on the box he sat in. I still have him to this day... It’s a pity how lies are easy to grow attached to. Now I sit. Thinking. I saw you today, but didn’t talk; you have changed, and I don’t like the person you have become. You used to be funny, and you used to make me feel good. Now you’re just a typical teenage boy, taunting and laughing at stupid stuff. What happened to Always and Forever?
What is love? Dear whomever this may concern, Indeed, you may think, that this is yet another tedious letter concerning the true meaning of this frequently expressed emotion, “love.” Maybe it is, and yet, maybe it isn’t. I myself am unsure as to how this letter will roll out, and if I begin to bore you, please do stop reading immediately; love is not something I want to bore your lives with, more so sicken you with it. Love, as quoted from the Encarta dictionary, is a transitive and intransitive verb: “to feel tender affection for somebody such as a close relative or friend, or for something such as a place, an ideal, or an animal” The second choice being, “to feel desire for somebody,” and third “to like something very much.” If I were to include my personal opinion on the matter, I would most certainly disagree with all three of these meanings to a certain extent. Love can vary. It is, in some cases, a drug. A drug that kills some, and keeps others alive. It can numb you, keep you in an enclosed shell for months and years on end, but can also lead you towards the opening, and give you a new lease of life into the world around you. It is the light that shines in everyone’s lives, and the gloom that consumes us at the darkest of times. It sends us high, soaring into cloud nine with such a boost of energy and adrenaline; it is hard to imagine that we will ever crash down. It cuts our wings, and lets us hurtle to the ground with a numbing force too great to comprehend. It rearranges our priorities, turns us into mature adults, and yet makes us admire and giggle like a child with a new toy. Some yearn for it; craving the attention that is bundled with such emotions. Others loath it; knowing the dire effects of the sad expectations that the vulnerable in love have. I may be wrong. Correct me if you wish. I just know that in this vast manipulation of land and ocean, millions of broken hearts lay waiting for saviours. False hope growing older, withering as their expectations rot into the wind that blows past their unfeeling bodies. I don’t want to be one of those people. I’m sure you don’t either. But, I fear, the vast majority of you are too late. Yours sincerely, MissSparkey.
I was in Spain during the summer, on holiday. I was out one night, and slightly intoxicated. Not to the point of total oblivion, may I add, but still very merry nonetheless. A man approached me, he was formally dressed and had previously commented on how I looked nice that night. After talking, and informing me he worked for an agency in Manchester, England (I live about 2 hours away from there) for Attitude Clothing. I love that clothes Magazine. He asked if I was interested in going for an interview with them. As soon as my Mum heard this, she started protesting and claiming that I will change as a person if I go into modelling. I suppose what happened made me thing about modelling, and if the profession would change a person. I’m talking about eating habits, vanity, and self worth etc. What do you guys think?
And I found my Playstation. And all my games. . Crash Bandicoot 2: cortex strikes back . Ridge Racer . Ape Escape . Rugrats . Monsters Inc. . Tarzan I also found my Digimon figures... And my Digimon DVD's and Video's. ;D Omigawd I'm in ecstacey.
Well, I guess I've posted some short stuff up here recently, but in all honesty, I'm not pleased on how they turned out. I've decided to start something new, and I do hope you all like it. Yes, it may be long and detailed, and I apologize if I go overboard on it. Tell me if I do, please. Thankyou, and all the CnC you can offer is appreciated. ~Emzy <3 Spoiler Prologue I stared into the eyes before me; I could do this forever, and still not find my answer as to how they had grown to be so damn beautiful. The emotion held in them, portrayed through emerald pools, seemed similar to anxiety. I wondered internally at what she was so nervous about... She could trust me by now, and she knew it. I had promised my trust to her, and she had accepted it with an open heart and mind alike. “I love you.” She whispered, her hand touching mine. We were so close now; I could smell the sweet scent of her alluring breath brush towards me like a warm breeze. I examined her face again, paying close attention to her soft features, which were now glowing from the light of the sun. She was smiling, her white teeth glowing just as much as she does as a whole. Silence. I was staring at her, speechless, my face glued into a gormless expression as the atmosphere grew thicker between us. We were alone, lapsed together into an intimate silence that longed to be broken. I could feel my heartbeat increase, beating almost as fast as my thoughts that ran through my panicked mind. My breathing followed suit as it also picked up speed, my lungs and body burning for more air. “Well?” She mumbled, scanning my face with those amazing eyes of hers. “...What’s wrong?” Again, the silence that followed screamed for someone to smash it. Smash it to pieces and never let it return. I felt obliged to do so, but grew more panicked as I attempted to collect myself – and the words of which I wanted to utter back to her. “I...I don’t know.” I mumbled back, swallowing back a minor lump in my throat. “And... I don’t know whether I’ll be able to say it back.” ~ Chapter One Concealed Anxiety It was probably wise that this change had happened. I mean, it wasn’t as if Mum and Dad actually got along... They argued more than they spoke for the vast majority of their time spent together, anyway. I could tell this was coming, and the shock that would have hit me if I hadn’t of predicted this, would have hurt a lot more than the form of numbness I was experiencing at this time; as of right now, I felt completely lost in a sea of senseless babble. The world around me still had sound, but only a toneless, muted hum that didn’t make sense. I had to really concentrate to make out the individual words properly, and that wasn’t an effort I was in the mood to make; my head was hurting, stuffy from what seemed like cotton wool clotting my mind, leaving no space to let enough oxygen reach and replenish my brain cells. This made me woozy, dizzy, and slightly sick of the world around me. What hurt the most, was knowing that I was just another girl in this school of several hundred pupils, whose parents had split up. Perhaps it sounds idiotic to hear about the turmoil in my parent’s relationship, and know that I am so upset – if that is the correct word to use – about them parting forever, swearing to each other that they won’t go back on it. But in reality, I liked having that security there; knowing that if my mum would argue with me, I would have my dad, and if I argued with my dad, I would always have my mum. Now I have my mum. Nothing more, nothing less to say on the subject. Just me and her... ...So maybe optimism isn’t my strongest point, but hey, I’m a truthful person in the end. A truthful person who doesn’t coat a damn thing in sugar. Although, if I really want to be positive, I could say that things will look up soon... But really, they aren’t. ***I sat, clamped towards the rumbling window beside me. The car was silent, again, like most rainy mornings. That’s the only time I ever got a car ride to school, as I normally walk ten minutes down the road to a stupid bus stop. Some might call me lazy, but I think that if they were the ones fixing their hair infront of a mirror for a full hour every morning, they would want to stay out of the rain, too. “Rainy day...” My mom commented, sighing as we hit yet another set of red lights. I turned down the volume of my iPod, and twisted, looking at her from the passenger seat. Her blue cobalt eyes were squinted into little slits, showing the crow lines striking out from the corners. Her lips – although very slim - were tightly pursed together and twisted into a small scrunch just left to where her mouth should be sitting. “...Yeah, I suppose.” I mumbled a reply, wrapping my black coat further around me. She huffed at this, and looked out of her side-window – clearly unsatisfied with my answer. This was a perfectly normal reaction, and one that I completely expected; my mother was never satisfied. Now that I think about it, the subject of my mother’s undying dissatisfaction with every detail of everything was the main subject of every argument that erupted in our home. Either the main subject or the origin of why she would make a vicious and uncalled for comments against my brother, my dad, or me. Yes, I have a brother. Don’t remind me. Right now, he is with my dad, enjoying his extended summer break via Spain. I hate him, and the fact that he can swap England for a foreign country for the plain reason that his parents have divorced. Hey, they’re my parents too, and I’m the one stuck here in this house that’s engraved with every damn family memory from the age of four upwards. You don’t see me carting my ass off to another country and pickling my liver like him. Yet he gets all the sympathy. “Hey pixie how’s Darren?” “Hey Pix, how’s your brother holding up?” And so on. The car stopped, making the patter of the rain seem ever so louder on the windows and steel of the car roof. I shuffled, adjusting my black jacket and flipping the hood up fluently to protect my head from any precipitation that may aim itself at my head or facial area. “Bye.” I waved feebly, already out of the vehicle before my mum could even turn to look at me. She faltered slightly, waving back with one hand up at me – which was now one wedding and engagement ring less than the last time she had waved me off from here. “Have a lovely day-” Slam. The clatter of the shutting car door forced an abrupt ending on my mum’s happy facade; she knew that I wouldn’t have a ‘lovely day’, and that I just really wasn’t happy in the slightest with what was happening, and the favouritism that was being shown here. I don’t care if she rants at me when she picks me up, as long as I just don’t get that ‘everything will work out in the end honey’ act. It pisses me off, rather than comforts me. ***Walking into the warm classroom, I inhaled the tepid air in an attempt to warm up my insides. “You’re late.” A whiney voice accused, slicing through the cosy atmosphere like a blade through soft flesh. My gaze turned, landing on the rake-like woman slouched forward over a bulky computer, in the far right corner of the rectangular room. Her lips were parted, as usual, letting her straight – yet large – white teeth hang out slightly. Her fake-tanned skin seemed to glow in contrast to her incisors, bringing slight hilarity to the stern look on her face as she whipped her ratty brown hair behind her shoulder. Standing up, she towered close to six feet high, her ankles wobbling in her pathetically heeled shoes. She was so slim; I often wondered whether she was involved in a rolling pin accident at birth. It made me chuckle at times, as she often made attempts to wear fashionable clothing – which she should, considering she was only about twenty-six or something – and it really, really failed. She just couldn’t pull it off. “Yeah, I kinda am.” I sighed, strolling towards my seat in the front row, just to the left of her desk in the left corner. I could feel her beady eyes leering at me the full way – I swear I could smell smoke rising from the side of my head as I walked. I took my seat, focussing on the speckled wood table infront of me as I removed my jacket and stuffed it in my backpack. Yes, I own a backpack. A sexy chequered one at that. “So, don’t I get an apology?” The whiney voice of my form teacher declared. “What? I was a minute late due to the traffic.” I mumbled back. “Late nonetheless.” I sighed, knowing exactly how this day was going to map out. *** “Hey Pix, you heard about that new kid?” A low voice asked casually. I turned, raising one black eyebrow at the lanky, spotty boy behind me. New kid? Now that was a first. This school – it being so small – gets hardly any new comers, and any that do arrive here hardly last a whole year. People are so...bitchyy and vicious, in all honesty. It really is a surprise that I’m still here. I smelt the strong scent of cheap cologne and knew almost instantly it was Clark. He and two other tremendously shorter boys stood awkwardly behind me, awaiting my reply. His light ginger hair hung down in between his shoulder blades, tied loosely in an elastic band of sorts, swishing into view every so often as he glanced about his surroundings – our surroundings – forestalling eye contact. “Why are you asking me?” I shrugged, my backpack moving in sync with my low, dangling shoulders. He was much taller than I was; I don’t know how much by, but I had to arch my head back to look him directly in the eyes. He was my age, too. But I guess not all fifteen year olds can be a ‘five-foot-two-inch midget’ like me. “I dunno.” He shrugged back, averting his eyes around the corridor. I swear, underneath the mountainous acne and clamminess, he blushed a little. We often met like this; an awkward passing in the hallways as I travelled for my dinner and he made his way to the large field to play some football. Regularly, Clark made his way towards me on purpose, and made small talk in an attempt to get a few words out of me. It was obvious from even my point of view that he liked me in a way – despite his over reactive denial speeches that he gives after each accusation thrown in his direction. I don’t care to be honest; I know he likes me, he knows he likes me, every man and their dog knows he likes me, and has done since, like, we first met three years ago or something. But damn, he just isn’t... Nice. “...Okay then.” I turned and walked down the corridor, my eyes focussing on my black leather shoes along the way. I felt him looking at the back of my head, his vision seeming to sear through my black strands of hair and engrave his initials on the back of my brain. Ouch. As per usual, Dinner was boring. I couldn’t help but assume that the new girl was going to be the talk of my next lesson, and that a-million-and-one questions were going to be thrown about the room like hot pieces of coal – all unanswered, but each questioner satisfied that he or she had a word in amongst the rest. I wasn’t one for gossip, and I doubt that I ever will be when all we have to talk about is another female joining the clan of make-up, weight and appearance obsessed *****es that confined themselves to the innards of this hellhole. God, I can imagine her now; blonde, uptight, snobby, inch and a half of beauty products cramped into the small, spiteful area that was her face, and an attitude to match her stinking smoke-filled breath. Oh, joy. My assumptions were typically correct; I walked into my last lessons, and got lathered, pummelled, and totally buried in queries about this fresh piece of meat that was to be thrown in here. Supposedly, she was going to be in my form class when she eventually arrives. She was due to turn up last week, but something about transfers and uniform have held her up at home. Hah. More like she wanted a few days to starve herself and lose weight in preparation for the big show. I ignored the excited babble of the same repeated topic, at the same time just stopping myself from screaming ‘IT’S A NEW GIRL. GET OVER IT.’ Which they did; they really needed to get over a new person appearing. She probably wasn’t anything special at the last school, isn’t anything special now, and won’t be anything amazing in the future. No, not probably. Certainly.
Slap. Swollen eyes, red and puffy, averted themselves downwards. Tears streamed from them, tears resulting from an action so dire, one cannot explain the emotional anguish it forced the female to experience. Click. The wooden door, standing tall, acted as her bodyguard. It listened to her, defended her, and took the demons away with its serious mannerisms. The doorknob rattled, screeching warnings of oncoming threats as she stood with her shield, fiercely defending her fort. Her adamant features declared war. Slam. A scream. A single scream, bloodthirsty and wicked rumbled through her frame. Goosebumps scaled her arms, forcing the hairs on her arms to stand to attention, along with those on her neck. She didn’t want this. As much as the adrenaline the pounded her arteries and veins argued, she did not feel a thrill of danger, a hunger for more. She wanted silence. But everything came at a price. Everything came with something one must endure, and endurance was something one could only wish to obtain. Boxers had endurance. Wrestlers had endurance. Sportsmen and woman had immense endurance. She was not any of those. She was a girl. A small girl willing to take a little and give a lot. A girl with dreams and wishes upon the shining stars that glinted in the sky. She was a girl with little hope and immense ideas. Silence. Her wish, the one she wanted beyond all others in her moment of danger, had been granted. No wizard great and wise, nor fairy godmother kind and warm had made her wish become reality. Life was not that easy. If only. Crack. There were several. Three in the ribs, two in the arm and one in the skull. She was the one screaming this time. Beep. Beep. Beep. She was a girl. A small girl willing to take a little and give a lot. A girl with dreams and wishes upon the shining stars that glinted in the sky. She was a girl with little hope and immense ideas. But all things have to change.
Gasping, I glared straight forward. The pain. The agonising pain that seared straight through my limbs and body was so immense; it took me to my weakened knees immediately. I gasped, clutching my neck in an attempt to force air out of my throat, to possibly release the pressure that had formed there quite suddenly. I coughed, spluttered, winced, and let my forehead rest upon the ground, with my elbows at either side of my temples. My mouth began to water excessively, making each fastening breath cause a splutter of salivation to spray into the air. Cramps began to seize my abdominal region, and take hold of my torso completely, as if someone was bashing a hammer into my guts repeatedly. Boom. Boom. Boom. I felt myself gag, the acidity of a searing liquid rise and falling from my gut, and burning as it slid back down my gullet in one of the slowest ways possible. The waves of violent expulsions became more frequent and intense; my body had no other route to take but to let it all out. Holding my jaw open with the upmost willpower that I could withhold, a warm shift of liquid spilled from my quivering mouth, and to the linoleum floor below me. My throat burned, eyes streamed as I managed to collect myself again, wiping the residue of acid-based vomit from my dry lips. Perhaps I was so selfish to think that anyone would come to help. To ensure my safety. My health. My well-being. Nobody came, not even the woodlouse perked interest at my scene. Nobody ever did come in this house, this shack of empty hallways and dust-caked corners. This structure, hollow like the lifeless veins of the deceased. Deprived of emotions, deprived of the art that is human nature, deprived of care, tenderness. Love.
Her eyes were vacant. Hollow. She was looking, gazing towards the ocean like a zombie, mystified as the waves roared below the cliff ledge she stood on. It spat at her, taunting her, letting her know that it was far more powerful than her frail body. Far more powerful. She shuffled forward an inch or so, her breath raw and gasping as she took in another lungful of air. It was icy today. The clouds were sneering at her, the cliffs were laughing at her; the sea taunted her, humiliated her, and gloated of its superiority with loud, crashing tones. Wounds on her arms stung as the saltwater spat up again, making the long, thin scabs seem like scorching wax glued to her limbs. Her world span. The wind was blowing today. It was rushing past her, astounding her so quickly. Her ears rang and popped, freezing like the rest of her rigid body as she hit it. Hit it like a bomb. A small, human bomb. Waters were cold today. Very cold.
Lessons like melodies When I first seen, I gasped. When I was alone, I yearned. When I was upset, I rasped. When you hurt me, I learned. As lame as it may seem, my eyes still sting to this day. I remember my first love, although I try to forget. Regardless of the attention you did not seem to pay, You were always my little, lovey-dovey ******. It is stupid, I know. He hurt me, it’s shown. I feel like the memory should go, Yet over time, all it has done is grow. So maybe it was idiotic, to think that it was real. The emotions that flared, I was too young to feel. We were both stupid in our own little way. Then again, That is the lesson we learn at the end of the day.
(Author Note: I know the storyline may not seem original, but it was something I came up with to help improve with my development into the personalities of the org members. I hope you all enjoy this, and more will come soon.) The Elements Of Vacation. Demyx groaned, and leaned further to his right, against the cold, rumbling window beside him. He was tired, and the growl of engines did not make his attempt at sleep any easier. He could sing, but that would probably end up in him getting hurt by one of the other tired members that surrounded him. His eyelids flickered and opened, revealing his tired, azure eyes. Pushing himself up, he straightened his frame and looked around the bus. Everyone was asleep, snoozing away in some other world that wasn’t this boring place. The driver could at least play some music on really low... The Nocturne turned his head, cracking his neck in the process, and looked across the aisle of the shabby vehicle. His eyes settled on Larxene, who gave him a surprise by looking right back at him. He smiled nervously, and raised one gloved hand to wave at The Nymph feebly. “What do you want.†Her high, airy voice hissed in the silence, slicing through the air like a hot knife through butter. Demyx flinched slightly, as if her words carved into his innocent body. Hesitating for a moment, he scratched the back of his mulleted head in thought of what he was going to say. He had to pick his words carefully; Larxene, the Savage Nymph, would tear him apart in seconds. He was slightly intimidated by her for the best part of his existence, but another part of him just wanted to talk to her, to find out why exactly she was so aggressive. He and Axel had once discussed this matter, and the two mages concluded that she was just evil. Not everyone is evil...Surely there is a reason behind her traits? “I...uh...can’t sleep.†Demyx grumbled, crossing his legs on the two seats he was sprawled across. “...Why are you awake?†A silence hit the bus. Nothing but the engines breaking the awkwardness that had dawned on the situation at hand. The Nocturne blinked several times, swallowing in the process before shuffling backwards until his back hit the cold window again. “That has nothing to do with you.†The Nymph eventually replied, closing the subject completely as she turned towards her own window, and gazed out into the darkness. Her hands gripped the small bag she carried as her eyes shut. ...Well that was kinda weird. It’s like she wanted to talk, but hit me at the same time. Maybe this vacation will do her some good... get her to relax a little, maybe? With a shake of his head, Demyx pulled his knees up to his chest and gazed back out of his own window. As he grew wearier the purple shadows of shrubs and trees became a blur, his eyelids became heavier...drooping...closing...shutting... Shut. ***A sharp pain awoke the Nocturne from his light slumber, forcing the nobody to jump and hit his head off the window he once used as a vibrating pillow. “Ow...†He mumbled, rubbing his forehead and looking up. His tired eyes met Axel, who was standing over him, grinning like a maniac. He blinked a few times and straightened up, his hands resting on the edge of his seat as he came into realisation of where he was; still on that quiet bus. Only now, it wasn’t so quite anymore. Larxene and Marluxia were in the background chatting and commenting on trivial topics – a conversation that could only be plucked up from tiredness, or excitement. Probably a mixture of both. “Wha...†Demyx blinked several times again, and proceeded to rub his eyes – all in a false hope that this action would take away the tiredness that had shook itself upon him. Obviously, it didn’t work, and he still felt as weary as ever. “Come on, Demyx. We’re here.†Axel’s gruff voice chanted, forcing the blond to groan as he was tugged up from his seat by the flurry. “Five more minutes...†He mumbled, leaning on the fire mages shoulder dramatically. “You would have got five more minutes sleep if you hadn’t drunk so much coffee before you got on here. Now shut up and get off here.†The Flurry threw something heavy at Demyx, forcing the Nocturne to stumble back a few inches and stare at the item in his arms. “What’s this-Oh, my luggage...†Demyx mumbled, yawning “Yeah, don’t get your hopes up for anything too amazing.†The redhead replied sarcastically as he jumped from the steps of the bus. Demyx followed, stepping down each step individually and rather robotically. “What time is it?†He asked, gazing around, mainly towards the sun that beat down on his face. “Ten in the morning. Now grab your case and follow me.†Axel ordered. Demyx looked towards the Flurry, who was now standing by his own red case, and Demyx’s blue one. “Hurry up Demyx, we haven’t got all day.†The redhead tugged the handle of his suitcase upwards and extended it, before walking across a sparsely inhabited car park – his crimson luggage trailing behind. Demyx began to follow, his bags in tow. A low humming could be heard coming from the nobody as he sang to himself – he usually did this, mainly to calm any nerves, but on this instance, it was out of boredom. “Argh, stupid piece of rubbish!†A familiar voice screeched from behind him. The mulleted musician turned and looked behind, a rather unfamiliar scene meeting his sparkling eyes. Larxene stood, repeatedly attempting to push the handle of her luggage trolley downwards. Her face was a picture – a mask of frustration carved into the face of a model. She got irritated if things did not go her way, and things certainly weren’t going her way this time. “...Are you okay?†Demyx asked innocently, blinking to make sure that it was actually Larxene he was speaking to, and not an absolute stranger... Now that would be embarrassing. “Does it look like I am okay!?†She replied viciously, leering towards the Nocturne, as if to turn him to stone. “um...N-no?†He stammered, shuffling back towards her and looking at the luggage cart with slight fear. “Man...uh...I’m not good with stuff like this, ya know.†“Oh, aren’t you just brilliant.†Larxene scoffed, rolling her eyes. Demyx swallowed nervously, and scratched the back of his head in thought – again – before trying the jammed handle for himself. It moved an inch or so, but not fully down so that the wheels could move freely. “I have an idea...†He smiled and clicked his fingers, having some form of eureka moment – which was rare for a nobody of his nature. “Come on then Einstein, spring it on me.†With another roll of her eyes, the Nymph crossed her arms mockingly at him. Demyx took himself to the front of the trolley – which was packed with three cases and a hand luggage – and braced himself, as if to catch it. “Okay...now you kick the handle.†“What?†“kick the handle!†“Are you serious?†“As serious as Zexion, now kick it, Larxene.†Boom. The trolley flew, colliding with Demyx with such a force that it knocked him back a meter or so onto his behind. The several bright-yellow cases that were balanced on the trolley remained in place, to his relief; those bags seemed heavy and full of shoes and clothes and all sorts of girly stuff, and he certainly wouldn't want the poke of a stiletto heel jabbed into his face. Larxene, hands placed neatly on her hips, walked up to the crash-scene, and chuckled. “As serious as Zexion? I’ll be sure to tell him that when we get in the airport. At least you fixed the trolley.†She took her luggage and strolled away, leaving Demyx sat in a heap on the floor. “...You’re welcome?†Demyx mumbled, standing up and cracking his neck several times. Well... that hurt a lot. I guess I did some good... It would be nice to be appreciated, though. With a sigh, he trailed The Nymph, humming what tune he once had in his head as he dragged his baggage across the humps and bumps of the road.
And now, the end is near; And so I face the final curtain. My friend, Ill say it clear, Ill state my case, of which Im certain. Ive lived a life thats full. Ive traveled each and evry highway; And more, much more than this, I did it my way.... Ohai there ! So guys, it's been swell and all, but I think it's time I went... ...on holiday, that is! :lolface: Yeah, I'm off to the baleric island of Ibiza, for two whole weeks. Don't worry about me if I'm not around - like you'd notice.. - and be good! I don't wanna come back to see this place shut down or anything. Now, I will see you all soon! ~Sparkey <3
Don't ask where this came from. I know that at least someone will seek some message behind it. I was just writing and this popped out of my head when I began to think over things. It's rubbish in my eyes, I just hope you all like it <3 Do not be afraid to run, I don’t mind being left behind. It’s like a repetitive voice, Echoing in my mind, Like I’m a love struck teen, Being kissed for the first time. Leave me behind... Leave me behind... Like a smack in the face, But only on the lips, Not a face approaching mine, But only that of a fist. Leave me behind... Leave me behind... You will eventually leave, And go your own way, When you will realise, This is the game I like to play. When suicide is so yesterday.
