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Light is not Good.


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Author Topic: Light is not Good.  (Read 1950 times)
Donnie
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« on: July 25, 2008, 03:23:31 pm »

(A/N- This is an experiment on my part, and I am not even remotely proud of it. But tell me what you think!)

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Behira Adin. Adin was of at least twenty-three years of age, with shoulder length chestnut brown hair, and green eyes that resembled stagnant pools of water. For the most part, Behira was a quiet girl, was at her job in the police office on time every morning, and despite a nasty tendency to consume alcohol like a diesel locomotive, was a pretty agreeable person. She lived in the fictional town of El City (but please, don't let her, or anyone else for that matter, find out), but to be more precise, it was in a homely three-story house. One curiously dark and stormy night, she was sitting at a writing desk in her room, and despite being alone, was dressed in conservative pajamas, with a red-ink pen in her hand and a purple covered diary in front of her. Opening up the book, putting pen to paper, she began.

   "August 21, XXXX. Nothing happened today. Not a lot happened yesterday, either. What's going to happen tomorrow? I am not completely sure, but it will probably amount to zero. Still, my job is mostly okay, despite the fact I only fill out mountains of paperwork. Drinking hasn't been too bad, except for the vomiting; and despite it all, people understand that I don't do a lot of talking. God I'm so alone."

   Behira let out a deep sigh, before closing the book, locking it with a key, hiding it in a hidden compartment of another book, which she soon locked, and placing it in a impossible to notice catch in the writing desk. And you know something? It was locked also. After that somewhat pointless task, given that no one visits her house anyway, she climbed into her bed, waiting for the next morning, fervantly hoping for something, anything, to happen that is at least a little interesting.

Well, something did happen. As she was sleeping, Adin forgot to take out her contact lenses, and woke up in the middle of that night with her eyes burning. Jumping up from her bed and trying to open the door out of her room, which was also locked. After a minute of struggle the door was opened, and she thundered to the bathroom on the second floor. Turning on the sink, Behira clogged the drain before shoving her face in the water. After a good soaking, the contacts washed out of her eyes.

   "Oh, that is so much better," imparted Behira in a somewhat... 'squeaky' voice. Hmm, actually kind of makes sense why she shouldn't talk much; probably pretty embarrassing.

   Well anywho, she shut off the water before unplugging the drain and went straight back to bed. Slipping back to her dreams, she was feeling relaxed after a good few hours of rest, and as usual, she had plenty of time to get to work. So, Adin took her time washing in a nice, hot shower. After drying off, she was dressing in her work clothes, which thankfully is still being pretty conservatively covered up. Then after a good breakfast of bacon and eggs and finally brushing her teeth, she went to go find her contacts.

   The blood in Behira's face completely froze, and chills were moving across her spine like hands againist a harp. Giving the sink a devastated gaze because the only options were being absent from work, and she was quite close to a promotion to something useful, or wearing her glasses, which not only would make her look vulnerable, but someone might actually have a cursed fetish towards them.

Despite all the risks, dangers, and potential problems of it... She was soon walking to work with her red-rimmed glasses, because it was nothing compared to her career being damaged. It wasn't a very long walk, probably due to El City not actually being a city, and once she got to the station Behira was soon at her job's desk filling out utterly useless and boring reports (they might of been useful, but your wrist will protest againist that).

   Captain Marhsall, a man of thirty-seven with short sand color hair and round grey eyes, was walking around, generally putting his nose where it doesn't belong, was soon hovering over Behira's shoulder. He chanted in a hospitable voice, "Ms. Adin, would you mind if I ask you something?"

   "No, captain," spoke Behira in a submisive tone.

   "Well," continued Captain Marshall trying to keep his voice low, "How long have you been working here, again?"

   Her hand's began to shake, "A- About six monthes, sir."

   "Yeah, I'm... Afraid I'm going to have to let you go," declared Captain Marshall, his voice seemingly full of regret.

   Adin's eyes expanded, and she began to stammer, "B- B- B- But why me? I haven't been late for a single day of work; why can't you sack Jennifer?"

   Captain Marshall sighed; Jennifer was troublesome (AKA, slacker-offer) little devil who, for the most part, is only in the police department because she was his personal friend. So, he replied, "I would, but she's late for work. So, it definately has to be you. Because... well, your glasses make you look kind of soft."

Back in her room several hours later, Behira was curled up in the fetal position on her bed, just after crying herself to sleep. On the writing desk, several cans of alcohol lay empty next to her diary. The newest entry would be read out, but frankly I don't want to repeat such foul language.

   And yet, as she was now soundly asleep, a red-and-yellow robed figure, gilded in shining light with large golden wings on it's flanks entered her room. It's voice was like a booming wail, and it called, "Behira Adin, wake yourself up and behond my image."

   "Shut the Hell up, damn it!" cried Behira back as it's siren-like call awakened her, "I have a hang over, I lost my job, and my glasses make me look pathetic." Finishing that, and realizing she was no longer in a comforting dream, went back to bawling in sadness.

   "Oh dear, sorry about that," appologized the angelic figure, significantly lowering it's voice, "Allow me to help you get over your own worthlessness." It approached Behira, and caressing her face with a shining hand, cured her of her hang over, "Now listen to me, the Arch-angel Gabriel, and listen well. I am going to give you a job of great importance and power, for you, Behira Adin, need to do something very special."

   Behira, being awed by it's words, stepped off of her bed and bowed before it before saying, "I shall do what you ask of me, oh great Gabriel. I will right the wrongs of man, and defend the poor, the weak, and the holy ones who deserve it. I shall free the oppressed from their shackles to over take these tyrants, and bring about a new age of peace and love."

   "Um," scratched Gabriel, "No, no, that will not be needed."

   She raised her head in confusion, "Huh? But you said I was going to do something of great importance!"

   "Yes, Behira, you will be doing something that is pretty important. You see, it seems a certain demon has gotten the idea that 'Dark does not mean evil', and we can't send a true celestial spirit to kill him because someone would catch on that 'Light does not mean good'."

   "B- But," stuttered Behira, "If Light isn't good, then why are you trying to stop Dark from not being evil?"

   "Oh, you humans," laughed Gabriel, seriously confusing Behira (and probably you for that matter), "Look, either you do it, and get a nice reward, or we have Jennifer do it."

   At that moment, Behira's eyes glew with new found rage and her body began to burn in a heavenly aura before saying, "Give me the bastard's name, and I'll strangle him with his own intestines!"

   "That's the spirit!"
« Last Edit: July 27, 2008, 12:29:09 pm by Donnie » Report Spam   Logged

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Tom
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« Reply #1 on: July 25, 2008, 04:54:06 pm »

I shall read it tomorow, right now, I'm off to sleep! Smiley

I know this is a kinda pointless post, but I just didn't want you to think I had a look without commenting. Grin
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« Reply #2 on: July 27, 2008, 05:01:55 am »

Ooooo... That was very good Smiley

Will there be more? Smiley Smiley Smiley
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Donnie
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« Reply #3 on: July 27, 2008, 12:32:08 pm »

Yes, yes there is. But just as a pre-emptive, I would like to say a second time that this story is highly experimental and has a good chance of exploding.

'sides that, I actually do desire to finish this one.
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« Reply #4 on: July 27, 2008, 12:56:06 pm »

Well, it's a very good part one, I really like your style.

Kinda reminds me of Terry Pratchett. Smiley
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Donnie
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« Reply #5 on: July 29, 2008, 04:02:11 pm »

Something that has to be said; when I write stories, in general, they have this tendency to die. Quickly.
Here is why I am mostly sure this story has just died-

1. It is not possible to continue it without plowing through a brick wall, and that particular brick wall also represents common sense. Without it, there will be Fridge logic, cliche's will rip the universe apart, and there will be cake.

Then again, usually when I say something is dead it turns out to have life left in it if people are convinced it is dead.
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« Reply #6 on: July 29, 2008, 04:08:14 pm »

and there will be cake.

I don't see the problem with that... Tongue

It would be a shame if this dies...
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Donnie
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« Reply #7 on: July 29, 2008, 06:25:13 pm »

and there will be cake.

I don't see the problem with that... Tongue

It would be a shame if this dies...

My dear Tom; the cake is a lie.

Trust me, I had a lot of stories with potential die. You know why? I can think of some really good events for a particular part of a plot; but linking them is not my forte.

Still as long as I believe a story is in great danger of death, or if I feel my writing skills are about to fail, I can pull a Dragon Ball Z and go Super Saijin. Or get killed off by the bad guys at the last minute but it is good to know Death Is Cheap.

...

...

...

...

Ok if there is not a chapter up by tomorrow, that is a clear-cut sign this mess is dead. But (I know conjunctions should not be at the begining of a sentence, it is one of my worst qualities. Like punctuation for example) I. Will. Not. Fail. You.
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« Reply #8 on: July 30, 2008, 05:10:48 am »

Thew cake is not a lie... It was on the desk when I finished the game

It's real I say! REAL! *twitches eye* O_e
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Donnie
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« Reply #9 on: July 30, 2008, 11:44:53 am »

"It felt like my mind was... getting tired. I collapsed on my bed, and slowly but surely it felt like something resting my my conscious was clawing it's way out. My personality was being shed away like a pupa, and I saw the following events through new eyes..."

One morning, which is August 19th, XXXX, as cain woke up he smelt the most horrifyingly gagging stench that he ever had the misfortune of being in the presense of. Opening his eyes, he saw everything was of the deepest dark and it felt like his body was stick in a moist mess. Sitting up in this cramped space, he started to put two and two together, "Dumpster."

   Pushing the top open, the yellow sun's light speared his eyes, causing him to shut them for a few moments. After Cain got over his momentary blindness, his suspicions were confirmed that he was in a white, graffitied dumpster in the middle of a not-so-dark alley. He weakly climbed out, felt a throbing sensation in his head, and was shocked to see a large hole in the wall in front of him. Pulling his compact mirror from his pants (for God's sake, don't ask), he looked into his own eyes and saw wide, slit-pupil, burnt-coal eyes staring back at him. He let out a calming sigh, "Good thing that's still normal."

   Sticking the mirror back into pocket and running his fingers through his sapphire-blue hair, he began to think, "What was I doing last night?"

Mentally submerging with his subconscious, he saw himself with a young man in an abandoned ware-house. The other person, Robert Cale, was about in his early twenties, had slate-gray eyes and thin brown hair.

   "So man, what can I do for you?" asked Robert in an overly cheery voice, as by nature he was one of the more friendly people one could meet, but with a touch of sarcasm.

   "I have a very special offer for you, Robert Cale," rasped Cain, "I'm going to infuse you with a portion of my Demonic blood, connecting you to my power and, as a result, allowing you to do pretty much everything you ever wanted."

   Robert cringed, "Yeah, besides the fact that isn't a good idea, you assume I'm completely insane why?"

   "Look, this'll barely hurt," debated Cain as his pulled out a serrated knife made from a black material, "So stand still and let me cut you!" Cain flew at Robert with inhuman speed, clutching his upper arm in an iron grip as he began to run away. Although Robert was a pretty good judo, he wasn't able to act fast enough before Cain striked for back of his head with the force of a bear. Soon after that, he met the floor...

   ...and after he stood on his feet a long while later, he felt like his blood was burning. Clutching his simmering heart, he gasped, "What the Hell just happened?"

   "I just finished the infusing process," hummed Cain while sitting on a nearby box, tossing his knife up and down by the blade, "Didn't I say you wouldn't feel a thing?" He soon noticed Robert giving him a cross look, which Cain shrugged off, "Oh come on, I practically did you a favor!"

   "You-" growled Robert, but he let it go surprisingly quickly, "Beside's my insides stewing in my own blood, are there any other side effects?"

   "Only a few cosmetic differences; the worse possible thing that will happen is you'll look like a cos-player." The blue haired Demon-prince coughed, "On the bright side, you should have access to my powers now, so feel free to use it for any selfish purpose you wish."

   Robert playfully shook his head, "Oh no no- I heard this before. Don't worry, I promise to only use these powers for good." The knife slipped out of Cain's hand, hitting the floor with a thud, and he looked at Robert with a surprised look; as if his dreams were broken apart. Robert noticed this and assured, "Don't worry, I won't be 'corrupted' because it's not like you don't seem too bad!"

   Seeing him walk away, Cain flew at him once again, and charged right into Robert's iron-hard fist. The sheer power of the blow sent him flying across the room and through a walk, to and right into that accursed dumpster. Robert narrowed his eyes, "And that was for hitting me, you son of a ****."

   Back in the present, he muttered, "So... maybe trying to take corrupt a pure soul was a dumb idea." Thinking about his predicament, he decided that the best solution was to get nurse his headache of with a few beers, then worry about the consequences when he was sober.

And, he sincerely hoped, Robert Cale wouldn't attract the attention of a certain Arch-angel...
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Donnie
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« Reply #10 on: August 17, 2008, 08:37:02 pm »

It's obvious that I haven't posted a chapter in weeks, because I was trying not to. And I succeeded.
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« Reply #11 on: August 18, 2008, 01:06:10 pm »

Oh.

Lost interest in the plot? Why not try retconning?
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ATTENTION ALL ROCKERS

92% of teenagers moved on to rap if you are part of the last 8% copy this and put it on in your signature. 

REMEMBER:
R=Retards
A=Attempting
P=Poetry

can't spell crap without rap
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« Reply #12 on: August 19, 2008, 06:02:03 am »

Finally! I have returned to a computer!

Sorry I haven't been on, it's just hard to find a computer here.

*reads*

Wait, why arn't you posting? Sad
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Donnie
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« Reply #13 on: September 12, 2008, 02:35:36 pm »

Okay, after about twenty-four days, I found my answer to your question.

Firstly, I was trying very hard not to snap this forum's spine as did with the ones I joined in the past (and when I say that, for some reason my ego has a black-hole effect). Then again, I finally realized that my twenty some odd post are not going to hard anyone when their's are in the thousands.
That, since I love multiple choice, or I just find it very hard to post because I feel intimidated. Even online.

...

Or did you mean why I didn't post another chapter yet? The answer to that is because I am taking writing classes so I don't produce haphazard ****.
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« Reply #14 on: September 13, 2008, 06:50:37 am »

Quote
Or did you mean why I didn't post another chapter yet? The answer to that is because I am taking writing classes so I don't produce haphazard ****.

That was my question, and for the record, this was very good. Smiley

Quote
Then again, I finally realized that my twenty some odd post are not going to hard anyone when their's are in the thousands.
That, since I love multiple choice, or I just find it very hard to post because I feel intimidated. Even online.

You don't need to feel intimidated, whenever I join a new Forum, there's people with thousands of posts.
I'm not sure what forums you go one, but here, we don't judge people by the amount of posts they've made.
If you feel intimidated, the it's Lyz's fault for starting private conversations.... LET'S BURN HER! Grin
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Pancakes taste like well seasoned DVD cases.
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