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Draft 1: The Picture, the Locket, the Ring.Let's look at this picture first, shall we? It sits next to a small brass ring with a garnet set on it. It's quite a nice school picture, isn't it? Black and white, of course, but that lends its own charm: You got it framed, but haven't been able to resist taking it out and looking at it sometimes, and now the black-and-white image is worn and faded with age. You often take it out of its frame to stare at it, smiling. For a long, long time, that day in elementary-school was the closest you'd ever gotten to her. You were both very tall for your age, so you'd been placed in the same row, and you'd had the fortune of standing so very close to her. You'd been able to smell her scent, a perfume meant to smell like roses. It was middle-school, and some of the other kids had laughed at her for wearing perfume for a picture, but you thought it was a nice touch, didn't you?
School was the worst time of your life, I think you'd agree. Even having seen her, it was intolerable. You were tall, but
Hypocrisy."I hate those gangs of white kids who wander around the suburbs."
"You know, the kids who think they won't get in trouble for doing anything. The ones who find people who look rich, who are all on their own, and just beat the crap out of them. They have knives, clubs, big rocks, sometimes even guns..."
"Oh, yeah, I know the ones you're talking about. They're not all white, you know. It's not the Klu Klux Klan."
"Yeah, yeah... It's horrible, though! Who do they think they are? Do they think it makes them seem more 'gangster,' to be more violent than the things they're trying to imitate?"
"Yeah, I know what you're saying."
"So... Did you hear about the protests the other week?"
"Yeah. It's sad; lots of people got injured. Thankfully no-one got any broken bones or anything, but--"
"Those damned policemen! They just lay into the civilians without any reason!"
"The cops were probably scared."
"Scared?! Of what?! They were facing civilians!"
"They just lay into them without
ThinkingThere was once a great conference of all the greatest minds in the world. The idea was to solve the problem of world hunger; they did it in a day. One man discovered a way to create food from light; the other discovered a way to cause objects to grow up to massive proportions. This all happened on the land of a simple farmer who could do very little but marvel at their incredible inventions, and mourn for his soon-to-be-lost livelihood.
The conference had been scheduled for ten days, so the scientists had very little to do for the last nine. They debated theoretical physics, which led to the discovery of faster-than-light travel. They debated non-theoretical physics, which lead to the creation of a simple formula which predicted the decimal of a number to the thousandth place. They debated chemistry, biology and archaeology, and discovered a host of new things in each.
On the ninth day, they solved all the world's problems, or at least all the ones they could think of. On the tenth day
Names.Now and forever, there is a man named Baen.
The world cried out at his birth, and the gods screamed in their distant graves.
One day, his actions will cause the end of Creation.
And every day, his actions cause the end of dimensions.
Some call him "Dark Man,"
Others call him "Lord of Chaos."
Still more call him "Last of the Shades,"
The rest don't know his name.
The Dark Man's ProphecyThey took His swords and threw them into the ocean, and the ocean grumbled and rolled, and then was still. They tried to drown Him, to force the silent ocean to swallow Him whole, but the ocean spat Him back out three days later. They tried to burn Him, but eight days after the fire died, they found His clothed torso amongst the ashes. They buried it, but eight days after that He rose out of the dirt, and His swords had come back to Him.
They tried to hang Him, but though His neck snapped and His throat was crushed, his bright eyes did not lose any of their manic cheerfulness.
He is the Dark Man. He is the only God left, and though the pitiful mortals of Eratwaen who fight over the scraps the Gods left behind desperately try to squirm free, His will has pinned them to the doors of their homes.
Six will come to free them, but He will play them all like a musician plays a song. Another will come to save them, but He will take his ancient ship and sail off. A final man, another Dark Man,
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Un roti de Cupidon"Patron.. je suis pas sûr que ça soit une si bonne idée..."
Un bruissement d'ailes presque froufroutant sur sa gauche le fit se retourner d'un bond, mais il ne put percevoir qu'un bref mouvement du coin de l'oeil. Ils étaient rapides, bien trop rapides. Jamais le vieux ne réussirait. De nouveau ce bruit soyeux, semblable à des ailes de tourterelles, mais bien plus proche. Dans son esprit il pouvait les voir, tournant au dessus de sa tête comme autant de vautours prêts à la curée.
Le bruit assourdi des détonations résonna et tout autour d'Emmanuel une pluie de plumes commença à virevolter tandis que cinq bruits sourds accompagnaient la chute d'autant de corps autour de lui.
"Ramasse les, petit. On a encore du boulot."
Avec une grimace mi admirative, mi dégoûtée, le jeune homme se mit au travail, enfilant des lourds gants de cuir pour se protéger. Son sup
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More