Monday, 31 December 2012

This Isn't What You Think It Is... Maybe, I don't read thoughts.

Happy New Year, fellows. The day has inevitably arrived. Yes, it is now 2013, not that you need me telling you. In fact, how unoriginal this is of me, making a New Years post. You're probably bored of these already. I'm not, by the way. I haven't read any yet save for Derek's, which was awesome.
Now that I've deleted that totally long ramble on how awesome it actually was, explaining what I found great, I'll have you know that this isn't a New Years post at all.
It's actually just another one of my posts that show off some picture I drew, but this one just so happens to be posted on New Years.
And this is that picture.
Who is the mysterious fellow floating in mid-air? Why is he in a mysterious cave with a weird looking opening? Is he a Necromancer, because it looks like those are shadows being manipulated?
I'm not sure. I just closed my eyes yesterday, lying in bed and I saw this picture. Well, a lot awesomer looking than this, but really, I had to draw it. It was like... Like... That box in "the Button" story. It was a lot like it, anyway.
In case it's hard to see, if you care, this is a picture of some sort of Necromancer, without necromancer clothes, which was kind of a mistake because in my "vision" he had black clothes, I think. The Necromancer is floating in mid-air, and he descended into the cave to get more shadows, because as you can see outside, it's day time. Yes. My artwork has deep, deep uh... Stuff
Happy New Year, all!

Monday, 17 December 2012

An Actual Post That One May Find Suitable to Call an Update-Thingy

Greetings. Today was a very strange day. I was obviously unhinged. I was too happy, too loud, too involving. I barely recognized myself. Much like my writing, nowadays. I have no idea why. I'm sure it had to do with some of the books I read over the past few months, and how I barely had any practice in a while. I read a book called the Messenger. Very good, but the author wrote in broken sentences, which had a good effect, but it affected me like a scar.

I loved that book, The Messenger. The ideas were perfect, I understood the main characters well, perfect characters. Very well developed. It's apparently a famous book, but then again I never heard of it before.

In fact now that I mention it, I have to give it credit for a small detail in the Story of Three, (a story I agreed to write alongside Kestrel and Val V, in case you didn't know. I put up my chapter yesterday. It's terrible, but Kes and Val V begged to differ, so that's how it is).

Anyway, the detail. The letter. I suggested Kes and Val V get a letter from Thrust because of the beautiful story called The Messenger. You're welcome, The Messenger. You ruined my writing but gave me an idea. Not many can do that. I wish you were like normal books and didn't ruin my writing.

If you have time you an check out our story. It's right here: http://kestrelvalandthrust.blogspot.ca/, you have to go all the way down to the first Chapter if you want to read it right. You can skip mine if you want, though. Even though mine is probably the most important to the story so far, it will also probably hurt your brain.

There seem to be so many stories like this online in our little sweet comunity, I really do understand if you can't afford to read any of it. But that's speaking for me. Val and Kes, they're absolutely marvalous writers somehow. Really.

My writing would be terrific if all my wonderful work would somehow make it past my brain. It's hard to imitate my own thoughts, somehow. I guess it's because my mind - used to, at least - be programed to be original in it's own way, taking what I've seen and create something new in some respect. I enjoy writing like that. I suprise myself, making it enjoyable.

Yesterday I was really depressed so I got thrudged through almost all of Kingdom of the Wicked. I'm a slow reader, I suppose. I don't know if it had anything to do with how wonderful I felt all day today. Now. It was truely a different experience.

Okay, before I write a novel here, I'm going to stop musing here.
I really hope you all had a great day, and stuff.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Valkyrie and Her Death Stare

Procrastinating, I found this old thing I made. I guess the point of this post is that I need to be doing other things, and I'm too annoyed to do them. And I haven't posted in a little while, so I think that's a good excuse too.  I better go.

Sunday, 21 October 2012

Show Me the Picture-Thingy of Skulduggery Pleasant

Imagine some awesome words here, like awesome for example, and gaze upon this picture of Skulduggery.
I drew it with my fingers.

Thursday, 18 October 2012

One Year


On this date in 2011, Thrust Ominous, that would be me, posted his first word on the blog. "hey" was almost all he said on that day. A word that he will carry on in his memory ever since he forced himself to remember for the purpose of this post. Not it was any trouble or anything...


One year. One year since I created a blog. One year since I wrote my first comment, "hey." One year since I've started to meet all you epic people, almost instantly becoming their friend.
This post is for you guys, you deserve much more, but it's the least I can do...
It feels like such a long time ago that I was struggling with writing and posting my first comment. It hurts my brain to think about, and I have been ever since I saw a YouTube video about how each year of your life feels shorter because each one is a percentage out of your life, but that's another story...
When I first commented, I wanted my first comment to be perfect. I thought I may have to struggle to gain your friendship and trust (which still is a bit questionable), if my first comment wasn't absolutely right. By the end of the day I finally found out how to do it, of course before that I took some breaks and had a long enough time to make up a name, and take a Skulduggery picture and fiddle around with it on Photoshop.
 My first comment was "hey" on this date pretty much three hundred and sixty-six days ago.
 A few weeks later I started commenting again. I wasn't so crazy back then, but I was still crazy enough. I was sure I was getting tested ever since I was noticed. But to my utmost surprise, everyone was so accepting of me, and I had felt like I lived on the blog forever. Maybe that's why the year felt so long.
 There is always a smile in the voice of the reader in my head when it reads your comments to me. You're imagination is always so original I have to shake my head in disbelieved amazement.
And when I'm down, and I am often, the blog has become my primary space of refuge. Company, laughs, genius, friends. I used to wonder why we don't get into too many fights. I used to be jealous of people who did because their life seemed more interesting with them. But we help each other out when we're in need, laugh together. We don't even really know each other in much detail, but we know what we have to, and that seems to satisfy everyone. Books, TV shows, and closeness to Ireland are all most of us care about. Oh, and making sure we don't mess with each other.
When anyone is having trouble with life, you're there.
If anyone needs to be cheered up, you're there.
If anyone wants to just be bored, you're there.
There is a place for everyone, over there.
You guys are the best, you confound all people who think that there's cyber bullying every where.
I wish I could share with you a story, dedicated to you, or do something epicly amazing that would blow your mind, but my brain is very forgetful, and if I planned anything like that in the past, the ideas have left me.
Now, in absolutely no particular order here are some of your names so far, and what I remember you by. This is basically stuff you already knew about yourself, so it's probably going to be really boring.
Derek Landy- Your awesomeness. Your replies to questions, and Paffles.
Nixion- Your imagination. Your friendship, and yes, your genius.
Zathract- Your art, amazing stories (even though I haven't read many), and your awesome demeanor, and your rants.
Val V- You are hilarious, random Skulduggery fandom, and the fact that Derek loves you.
Eve- You are probably the most funniest, randomest person on the blog, your rock, and your knowledge of chickens.
Sir- You are hilarious, your sharkness is true to the last row of teeth, you are so brilliant and epic, I can't go through one of your comments without at the very least smiling. Unless what your saying is sad, but it never is.
Kestrel- You are so creative and I love your ideas, especially your stories. *secret fist bump (so that no one can take my arm away THIS time)*
Sparky- You are friends with everyone, and have a great picture of how things work, and so it is reflected in your writing
Kal- Kal, you are so nice, and you have marshmallow guns or something... And I won't forget how we discovered the giraffe pit together.
Lav- I know you're not around much anymore, but I have to let you know for when you were, I enjoyed talking with you..
Star- you are definitely insane, nice and epic. I can't even describe how insane, nice and epic you are, so I will leave it with one word: trains.
Luc- Luc, you are so very strong, keep that hope, and you are so very amazing.
Willow- You are very strong too. You have good friends, and know what's right.
Adra-YOU WROTE A FREAKING MANUSCRIPT!!! You love Doctor Who, and ye are funny.
Vlaedr-You are really extremely nice, and I couldn't have finished that second story of mine if you didn't ask me for more. You have great ideas yourself.
Zaf- You are so cool, I love your love of books and craziness for blowing stuff up.
Lynx/Shad- You are super smart. Your stories are rich with awesomeness, and YOU figured that Thrust2 was my reflection.
Em- Thanks for making us remember. You really, really deserve a lot.
Am I missing anyone? Obviously. Not my fault. I am too forgetful to be guilty.
I hope I didn't hurt anyone in the past, and if I did, I most likely didn't mean it.
Thank you for entertaining me with your insanity. I believe it's healthier than most thing you can do on the internet. You people are good for my health. You've made my year great...
All I want is to keep the giraffe pit. That's a thing now.
A million thank yous from the epitome of my soul.

Monday, 24 September 2012

Ancient-Geezer Storys by a Younger-Version of Me: Shesteus

The name of this story is Sheteus. It was writen last year for school. Which is why it is a finished story. My teacher hated it happily giving no consideration to the fact that I was the only one who even WROTE a story.
Enjoy.


Once upon a time there was a boy named Shesteus. He was just your average boy you would find in the city of Thud, which is where he lived. Shesteus was raised by a mom and a dad. He went to school usually, his long brown hair attracted a lot of girls, and he trained to fight with a sword. He was very confident about his fighting skills which would eventually lead to his down fall, but that’s another story. His family wasn’t so rich so he had to help out with gaining some of their livings.

He used to go out and sell the socks his mother would make, but he didn’t get much business.

“Why don’t any of you want my socks?!” He shouted in the market place one day. “They’ll look beautiful on your feet!” He then remembered that these were Greek times, and wearing socks under sandals just looks weird.

Now, being Shesteus, he was creative. He took out his sewing and hairdressing kits he kept on him at all times and got to work. His comb went scritch, scratch, scritch and his needle flew in and out and in and out. “There’s just enough material here to make a beautiful stock of togas!

“These are the best togas you’ll find in ALL of Thud!” shouted Shesteus to the marketplace, but no one was buying it, excuse the pun.

Shesteus was just about to get back to work, when someone behind him said “Don’t embarrass yourself, fool,” with pity. “Uh… let me help you.”

“OK,” said Shesteus, “but it’s a tough crowd. I’m thinking of painting them gold with this hair die. You take half.”

“I don’t think you’re a very good sales boy, fool. Why don’t you fetch me some bread from that guy all the way over there and I’ll give you some of the fruit I’m selling. And I’ll throw in this barrel of milk if you promise to quit trying to sell your…whatever…”

“It’s a deal,” Shesteus said excitedly, and a deal’s a deal, for in less than a minute the guy got his bread and lost a few pieces of fruit and a couple kilos of milk, but everyone was happy.

Shesteus loved the concept of trading favors for stuff he needed. So he tried it again. Shesteus went on quests for people for money and other valuables he needed in order to keep his family going. He was doing a great job too, and he was developing into a character that was very dependable and always kept his word. “A deal’s a deal,” he always said.

One day a powerful island called Terex, which was known for its heavy duty products, army and the accidental nuclear mutations which take place in the factories, declared war on Thud because their king, Sonim was bored. Thud was tired of this happening every few years, so the whole city agreed to make a treaty with the king of Terex.

“You know about that crazy mutated moose-bear we keep in the basements of the factories?” Sonim said to the king of Thud, Arpo.

“Yes, it used to be a man but he accidentally mutated himself and somehow became the moose-bear that loves to eat little children.”

“Yes… He loves the little ones. That is why I’m going to make you an offer. You send me two boys and two girls every two years for us to feed the moose-bear and let us call you Looser Ville for all eternity, and then we will stop attacking you when I am bored.”

“How about we give you 6 boys and girls every eight years, and drop the name?”

“Seven boys and girls, and I’ll even throw in an extra year, and then we can drop the name.”

“Deal.”

So even as Arpo walked away from that meeting feeling a bit confused , he knew, just as Shesteus always says: A deal’s a deal.

So when nine years was up, Shesteus was very confident that he could kill the moose-bear, so he volunteered to go to be killed in Terex.

When the boat finally docked, all the fourteen moose-bear-diner to-be’s were invited to the kings castle, where they were forced to enjoy themselves, have a final meal, and were given a supposedly encouraging, heartwarming speech from Sonim about how they were heroes and should be proud of themselves.

The king’s pet, a platypus-wolf, had a different perspective on how they could be heroes. It saw how confident Shesteus looked, so it decided to approach him.

 He somehow wrote a note and put it under Shesteus’s pillow while he was sleeping. It said to meet it early in the morning by the entrance to the basements and it would help him. In return, Shesteus would have to take him off the island so that everyone can look at its gloriousness.

Shesteus met the platypus-wolf at the entrance to the basement a few hours before they were to be sent into its depths. The platypus-wolf gave him a sword, a few lanterns and candles, and a huge ball of string, which he would tie to the door and would use to find his way back once the moose-bear was dead.  

And remember, you must bring me off this island so that everyone can bask in my gloriousness.” The platypus-wolf said his human voice strangled between a crackle and wolf.

“A deal is a deal,” Shesteus said.

 

Shesteus and his fellow girls and boys were hoven into the darkness of the factory basements. As soon as the first few lanterns were lit, their eyes were opened up to a long endless tunnel.

“Wow,” said some of Shesteus’s associates.

“You stay here. I’ll go down there and kill the moose-bear, then we’ll all be free!” said Shesteus

“What’s the yarn for?” asked someone.

“It will help me find my way back here when I’ve killed the monster,”

“What if you die?”

“I’m not gonna die.”

“How ‘bout you hold the yarn really tight, so that if the string in our view falls to the ground we know we’ve lost hope?”

“What if I drop it?”

“We’ll think your dead.”

“See, what if I’m not?”

“I donno! Am I supposed to know everything?”

Shesteus sighed “Just be safe and stay over here. That’s all you need to do. Light your lamps and torches when you need to. Each one should last about an hour.”

“And we’ve got one… two… three… four… of them,” said a boy, with a match in his hand “so that means we’ve got four hours!” He lit them and watched the flames dance with a grin.

“It doesn’t work that way if they’re all lit at the same time!” said a girl taking three and smothering the flames.

“OK, you just keep each other company, don’t move, and make sure the string doesn’t dislodge from the door,” and Shesteus walked away sword and light steady.

Half an hour later the boys and girls were talking and noticed the string fall to the floor. They didn’t move.

“He’s dead!”  The girl who argued with Shesteus exclaimed.

It took a whole five minutes, but the boys and girls cheered as the string jolted.

It took another twenty minutes, but Shesteus emerged into the children’s light, he’d dropped all of his.

“We thought you were dead!” said the girl who shouted Shesteus was dead.

You thought he was dead,” said another girl to her.

“I did too,” Shesteus intervened. “I nearly drowned in the monster’s stomach fluids, but luckily I slashed myself out. Here’s his pancreas!”

“What do we do now?” asked a boy.

“We’re free!” said Shesteus.

“Yay, I feel so free behind this locked door inside this dark dungeon!”

“I guess we have to wait for the platypus-wolf.”

A few hours later, halfway through an annoying song about a pigeon, the door opened and the platypus-wolf poked its head in “Oops,” it said a little sarcastically, “Must’ve lost track of time.”

“Yeah,” said Shesteus, “You must’ve, because you would never make me sit through those horrible songs for a really long time.”

“Um… Uh… yes – exactly. Now, come quickly, our boat is waiting.”

Under the command of Shesteus, the boat sailed toward Thud for a few days. Shesteus wasn’t happy, however. He was mad at the platypus-wolf for making him sit through those annoying songs, and he was sure the platypus-wolf had something planned. He didn’t know what, but he was sure there was something.

He went to the platypus-wolf’s cabin. It was sleeping softly. He decided to do it. He had to. It would be better for everyone.  

He docked near a deserted island, and put the sleeping platypus-wolf on the beach. He made all of his friends watch its gloriousness, because after all a deal’s a deal.

Soo, yeah..
I hope you noticed that it is a ripoff of Theseus and the minotaur. And that Shesteus is just an anagram of Theseus. And that YOU loved it. And will get your pitchforks ready if  I ever need you.
I referenced a load of random stuff in this story, mainly from Avatar. The chaces just kept popping up. And last of all... It feels weird writing a post title that long.

Thursday, 20 September 2012

Pensive: Writting Ideas. (an actual legitimate boring post)

I have been killing myself over the last few weeks set on the idea that I suck. This is false. Yes, I've been thinking that, but I do not suck unless I have to. I get pissed off at myself for thinking it.
The following is my boring view one thing in particular that makes me feel stupid. This is mostly meant for myself, however you may find it encouraging aswell. You may even find it offensive. You may even fall asleep. You're brain may explode. It's all up to you.

I always find myself killing myself over a good idea to write about, because I've always got to write the best story in the world.
I always need something new, something creative. It must be something no one's ever done, and it's gotta be because it was just way too awesome for them to think of. I'd start to rack my brain pushing aside different ideas that are just wisps of vague parts of my life that I am too terrified to mess around with due to my fear of confusing myself. I find my fear is not so much confusing myself as it is more of starting anything I'm worried I won't finish. I find that before I start thinking about what I confuse myself about, I think confusing myself as a rather amusing pastime.

Sometimes I get good ideas I'm too scared to even try answering my questions about. Often I'd get scared that my choices will alter the non existent story that goes along with it. Sometimes I won't bother killing myself over how to make a small secret society of males and females live together without being married and with out getting too out of hand in a way I can't control.

Decisions are one of the hardest things for me to make. It's hilarious. For some reason I feel like I have to have the whole entire story down in my head before I can start writing, before I find  out there has to be a perfect middle.

There's always something that stops me from doing anything. I've come to one solution. Don't stop. It sounds really tough, and I'm gritting my teeth as I write this, because I know it it will be tough, but I'm going to write a story. A real story. Just like my old amazing ones.

Lord Vlaedr, (big fan of your comments, by the way,) you know why my past two stories were so new and fresh, and admitably, humbly awesome? Because I wrote on what was on my mind. Those ideas were a lucky two which I actually liked. They were simple and easy to remember. Not once (I'm lying a bit here) did I have to stop to rack my brain for an answer, because there were almost no answers to give. But I saw I developed the story for myself I invented new things that mattered.

What I'm getting at is your ideas should be written down before you lose them in the incredible mind. Do not worry about details until they present themselves to you.

These are the rules I'd like to be going by for the next new- ahem, uh, one of them- story I put up. If there is one.


Sunday, 16 September 2012

I think you should read this

Writing to epic music is epic.
Especially when the epic music is completely awesome.
This is something I wrote in five seconds while listening to music.

Day is not night and night is too dark to be day, but today no one could tell the difference, no one knew why, and no one cared.
In conclusion epic people listen to epic music while writing epicness.

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

A Story I Would NEVER Write

You say you would never write this story? Why not? You just wouldn't? Okay, okay, I get you... SO WHY DID YOU?! You wrote it, because you would never write it? One story, two parts. Separeted by a squiggle. And all the characters have Irish accents? You're right they are awesome.

O negative

By night they traveled, and by day they rested. Because they could be seen by day. And they were easily sun burned. And few places for shelter were big or dark enough to protect them. Every time they traveled, they sometimes had to stop short of their preferred distance to settle in a nice cave for the day, because the plains of the Magical Candy Kingdom of Death and Power and Doom are neatly mown small wavy hills, with few trees. And caves are even rarer.

In the cover of their safe-spot, they would take the little rest the needed, and gather energy while munching on the Fruit Loops they packed of the journey.  Because everyone knows that the only other thing vampires can compare to blood is Fruit Loops, and cats.

“We shouldn’t be far off” said a skinny, pale skinned, dark haired, female vampire. Crystella. “Maybe a night”

“If we’re lucky. This cave was a pretty fortunate find; we can actually have room to breathe different air. But we stopped too short; the sun won’t rise for another hour,” said a tall, broad shouldered, pale vampire man, Shayne, his dark eyes carefully selecting his next Fruit Loop. Red. He held it up in the darkness studying it, again with his dark eyes, and ate it.

“This is getting unnerving. If we weren’t nearly there, I’d say that our journey is almost not worth the discomfort"
"Keep your eyes on the prize, Crystella, tomorrow all of this will have been made worthwhile.”

When the sky finally turned colours, from blue, to blood red, the sun had made most of its way under the horizon; they set off, making their silent sprint westward.

Peripheral vision blurred, the vampires had their eyes on nothing but their destination, a castle, small but growing quickly with their approach.

All of a sudden the sky was tainted orange, and the vampires fell to their knees frantically digging a wide enough pit in a sloping hill in front of them. The sun was making its slow ascent beside the castle.

"NOOOO" Crystella howled,"NO! We were SO close. SO close! Maybe only five seconds away! Five!"
"In which time we could be cinders, Crystella, keep digging!"

They were safely hidden inside their burrow by the time the sky was pink, and they began to wait for the sun to fall. But today would be different.

"We were there!" Crystella hissed, "I can almost taste it from here. Our prize."

"I know, Crystella, me too. We have to stay in here though." Shayne said, sadly.

"But wouldn't it be great if we could just dash up there, just in time to avoid getting scorched?"

"Like a dream, Crystella, too great. We can't take any of these risks. It would be an embarrassing way to loose it all."

Crystella look down dissapointed, "I thought you said we were different."

Shanye gave her a little smile, "This trip would have been one thousand times more difficult if we didn't have each other."

Then he leaned in and started snogging her like a crazy wild animal.

Crystella broke loose, "So you admit it then, we're better than everyone else. We can accomplish more than most."

Shayne looked down, with shame in his dark eyes, "Yes," he stated, then he muttered, "As long as we're not distracted."

Crystella beamed, "It's been a long six days. A long time since we've felt the taste of blood in our mouths" she approached Shayne, "You know you want it."

Shayne swallowed, "I know, Crystella, you know that. But we have to be strict about this. We could die."

"And when's the the last time you said that? When's the last time something so fierce you could die, has stopped my Shayne from overcoming it? How can you let this be where you step down? Where you let someone, no, a thing, unliving, beat you? Where has my Shayne disappeared to? Show me you are fierce. Come with me, for I am going. I know we can make it. Five seconds."

"Are you sure it is five seconds? It looked more like ten to me."

"Who cares the limit is ten anyway."

"The limit is not ten, it was six! We'll never make it. Such a distance. I'd kill myself running if I made it to the castle in time!"

"I'm still pretty sure it's ten, but Again, try to be more impressive, I cant brag a out my tough boyfriend of he's scared of a little sun."

"All vampires sizzle in the sun. I am no different."

"But it doesn't seem to be stopping me. That puny is no match for my speed. And nor is it for yours. Join me. You did say the today we would already be there. Will you allow yourself to lie to me? Besides, don't you want all that warm. Juicy Blood. Right... Now?" She was close to Shayne. Breathing on him.

"Okay" he winced, then a mad smile split over his face from sideburn to sideburn. "Okay!"
He stuck his head out of their pit and looked up squinting. "Puny sun!" he roared.
"Wow, slow down there, tough guy," she looked him in the eyes, "We go together."

He charmingly growled in response, "I want it now! I need all that blood now! Too long without it! Six long days!"

"Yes!" Crystella agreed, "Now!"

And they made a mad vampire dash around the burrow and over the hills toward the now massive and still growing castle.

Shaynes legs were burning. Shayne's everything was burning. He knew Crystella was beside him. He knew she must feel it too. His sonic ears didn't hear her cry out, so he sucked it up too, and kept running. Eyes on the prize. Thing were moving too slowly, he wasn't covering as much ground as he'd like to. Then again, only half a second had passed. He felt a hot, burning sensation overcome him, yet he didn't stop running, eyes staying open until it started to strengthen, his muscles tightened, his energy anaerobic, he allowed himself to blink. There was a massive snapping noise, and the world toppled over. Or was that him? Yes it was him. And the crack was a tree, now splinters; he had tripped over the tree trunk. He looked up to see Crystella, doubled over. He could hear a high pitch whistle, which came with the burning, but even over that, he could hear her cackles.

"You think I would let you take my prize, Shayne? I'm not sharing it with a fool like you."

She smirked at Shayne, but he could not do anything; he was too exausted. And the PAIN. Perhaps those were the reason she was laughing.

"But since Shayne, I did love you, I will tell you that I have cheated you. I am in fact wearing sunscreen. You were right though," she watched him, "it was six se-..."

Her voice was droned out by now. The flames erupted from under his epidermis, then he blew away in the wind, leaving the smoldering tree stomp behind.

Crystella pondered on what she had done. She killed her boyfriend the bond was definitely broken, she could be weaker now. She felt weaker. She was sad.

"I will avenge you, Shanye. I did love you."

She turned to the castle, and tore the metal gate apart.

              ~


Inside the damp corridors of the enormous castle, Crystella sprinted silently sniffing out her prey. The smell was masked, she could smell the putrid garlic they used to mask it, but the fool still allowed himself to show her the way.

No one had seen her so far, and she was almost there, she hoped no one would find her. She wanted her catch to be the first thing on the menu.

She stopped in front a large pair of doors. Chains of garlic hung from them. They think I cannot touch it, she smiled. Okay, I'll play along, for now.

The doors cracked as the vampire burst into a giant ballroom holding a big torch and bracket.

Someone let out a high pitch scream.

Crystella stabbed the prongs at the end of the bracket to send attackers flying thirty feet in the air, slapping the ceiling and plummeting with a sickening crash to the marble floor.

Crystella took strings of garlic off a wall and covered the bodies with them. She didnt want their blood tainting the air, or drawing her attention.

She faced the last man standing. He hadn't attacked. His name was Collomere Persnickety, and he was the reason she was here.

"I was expecting you," he said. The man was dressed uncomfortably. He probably wore that armor those Long Johns, and that ridiculous scarf all day and night. Expecting. "They told me you were coming. Though I am surprised you arrived so... Early in the day."

"So it's true? All those tales, we followed... Our efforts were not fruitless."

"Maybe," he said.

"Do not try and hide from me what I will inevitably find out! Of course you are the one. I can smell it. You have pure blood running though your veins. The purest of them all, I can feel it even over all this garlic. And now it's mine!"

"They helped me get ready. And I am prepared for you."

"Yes, I can sense that too. All you need to defeat a vampire is a pair of really ugly tights."

Then she ripped forward as he was trying to think of a remark, and thrashed her claws at his face. He pairied them with a sword he'd been hiding, and he gave another swing. She ducked and dodged him with amazing speed. Getting behind him she clawed at his armor, openning it uncovering more layers of clothing. He tried to keep the armor on but it fell, and he kept fighting, aiming for anything vampire.

She returned the favor with lashes to every part of his body. He had so many layers of clothes, he must have been a twig without them.

Finally, she got his face. Gashes from hair to chin.

She pulled off his scarfs revealing a steel cervical collar. She ripped it off with ease, then felt the sword come down in her side. She slashed downward and the sword fell.

Crystella leapped up and kicked out her legs. She landed lightly as Persnickety toppled onto his back. She dove for the kill, and an arrow penetrated her thigh.

Looking up she saw a hooded archerer, standing on a balcony arrow notched in bow, ready to shoot again.

Crystella unstuck the arrow, and went down again for Persnickety. Her sonic hearing knew the next one was coming. She whirled around and the arrow penetrated Persnickety's stomach. She was holding him up and could nt help herself. She bit down into his twiggy neck. The blood. Oh it was good to drink blood again. Finally after a long six days.

So this is what pure blood tastes like. Without the added proteins. A good experience, but it tasted too... Plain.

She dropped Persnickety licking her lips, she picked up her torch and bracket, throwing it out at the balcony intercepting the next arrow and sticking itself into the archerer.

She licked the blood off Persnickety's hands, and finished up, deciding she doesn't particularly like O negative blood as much as the protein-filled type.

I'll stay a while, she thought, try and clean up. There's sure to be someone around here with AB positive blood somewhere.












Monday, 2 July 2012

A Short Story by Thrust Ominous

Do my eyes decive me? A story? By Thrust Ominous? That wasn't school work? I REAL story? That has an ending? In which- well I'm not going to ask for spoilers, but... You must be joking!
You're not joking? It's amazing? You're getting angry? If I don't stop asking questions and delaying the story you're going to hurt me? And HOW exactly might you do THAT, Oh-Mighty-One?


I Throw a Big Wrench


Voila! I’m done!” Toby exclaimed.


“What are you done?” I asked, putting the laptop on my chair and walking over.


“I thought you’d never ask!” said Toby, bouncing around the small table to show me what he made. The table had nothing on it besides for a sphere of dark-blue glowing light. Cluttered on the floor were piles of pages; Toby’s blueprints and notes.


“What’s that?” I said pointing.


“It’s the, um… I haven’t actually found a name for it yet.”


I eyed him with mock awe. “Alright, but what exactly is it?”


“What does it look like it is?”


“It looks like it might be fun to play with.”


“It would to you, wouldn’t it?”


“It looks like something from space.”


“I swear it isn’t.”


“Is it hot?”


“I definitely hope- No! Don’t touch – and you touched it. Of course you did.”


“It’s metal. Weird. I sort of expected it to be rubbery.” And it was warm.


“You have weird ideas.”


I raised my eyebrows. “Okay,” I said, “it’s a blueberry.”


“But it’s glowing.” Toby stated.


“Blueberries… don’t glow, right. They’re not warm either.”


“It’s warm?!” Toby said, surprised.


“Yeah, why?”


“Well… That’s a bomb. And I think you set it off.”


“Oh.” I said. All of a sudden I didn’t want to hold it anymore.


I set it on the table.


“But that’s fine. This is a special type of bomb. It the one we’re going to use in our next raid.”


“Is it special because it glows?”


“That’s only one of its perks, no it ––”


“Does it explode out blueberries?”


“No” Toby responded in the weird voice he uses when he knows I’m trying to be silly while he’s trying to get through with something. “It explodes heat.”


“Heat?”


“Inside this orb of heat. Oh! I know what it’s called! I’ll call it ‘thermal orb’” Toby exclaimed excitedly, smiling. “Oh, right! Inside this thermal orb,” he paused to squeal at the name, look at me and said, “You don’t like it?”


“Oh, um… I love the name! Thermal Orb. I think it’s my favorite name you’ve ever picked for anything! Go on.”


He knew I wasn’t being serious, but he continued, “Inside it there is a pair of generators that create heat and energy together, eventually reaching a total of seven thousand degrees, opening the orb and exploding in an outward radius of one thousand meters.”


“And is this heat supposed to kill people?”


“At seven thousand degrees? It’s supposed to melt them like ice cream, and turn them into gas.”


“And didn’t you say I set it off?”


“Yes, but that’s not a problem now. Only if it gets too hot to touch would it be a problem.”


“Oh,” I said worried, “I think it was a little too hot for me. That’s why I put it down.”


Toby froze, eyes wide. Then he turned on his heel and placed a figure on the circumference.


“Ouch.” He hissed and waved his hand in pain.


“What’s the problem?”


“We have about ten minutes until we’re evaporated.” Toby started to pace. “This isn’t good, no my friend, I definitely would have to say that this is very, very bad. I am going to have to deactivate it.”


“But you can’t touch it!” I said.


“Yes, I know. Now let me concentrate.” Muttering, he sat down in my chair.


“YOW!” Toby rocketed a few feet forward, scattering pieces of my now crushed computer. “Oh, ouch. Oh God. This is bad,” he moaned.


“I can see that! Now what can I do?” I said frantically.


“Gn- Get my wrench from that bag over there, and DON’T THROW IT!” he faced the ball, rubbing his butt.


“Gotcha” I said, I found the bag he pointed to. “Wow, this is heavy. And that is one big wrench.” I flung the bag, and it hit Toby in the legs, he collapsed and fell on his butt.


“GO AWAY!! FIVE MINUTES!! FIVE MINUTES TO OUR DOOM OR UNTIL WE MAKE IT OUT OF A VERY BIG MESS! THAT’S ALL I NEED AND ALL WE HAVE!!”


“OK. Sorry. I forgot! It’s just such a big wrench.”


“Sometimes I wonder why we keep you around here,” Toby muttered as he got to work.


I cleaned up my computer pieces and watched him from my chair with tension as he walked around the orb, obviously oblivious as to what he had to do.


I started to ask what was wrong but he gave me a gesture, and I shut up.


“I- I can’t open it,” he said finally.


I took the liberty to come over. “Why not?”


“Remember how I told you the generators make the heat, and compress it until it reaches one thousand degrees?”


“You said seven thousand.”


“THE GAMES ARE OVER, NOW LISTEN TO ME!! I can’t open the bomb because if I did, it would explode.”


“Okay, so there isn’t, like a red wire and a blue wire thing on this thing.”


Toby’s face tightened and for a second I knew he was going to murder me. “DO WE HAVE TIME TO START SEARCHING THESE PAGES TO FIND OUT?!” gesturing to the floor. Then he said “That’s it! Maybe I can deactivate it from the outside. Or now that I think of it, cool it down! Oh no, wait… that would mean… Yes! I can open it by cracking in from more than one side!” His face in front of me, he looked closely into my eyes. “I’m a genius!”


He got his other wrench himself, he took one wrench in each hand, preparing to strike “Now the only thing we don’t want” he looked up, grinning, “is for it to start flashing.”


With a slow pulse, the Thermal Orb suddenly started flashing white.


Toby sagged, and breathed. He looked up calmly and shouted, “RIGHT NOW! GO RIGHT NOW TO RAYMOND’S ROOM! GO RIGHT NOW AND FIND A BIG METAL BOX AND BRING IT TO ME! RIGHT NOW! GO!”


I hurried away, but then Toby said, “And try not to mention this thing, please.”
"We're going to cover the bomb with it? Why couldn't we do that in the first place?"
"Because Ramond, he doesn't exaclty... know. GO!" He screamed.
 I raised my eyebrows, then couldn’t help grinning as I burst into Raymond’s room. He was standing in front of his chair with a box of thumb tacks in his hand and a rolled up poster behind his back.


“Need a metal box?” Raymond said. “How come?”


“Toby needs it! Now gimme!”


“I know, I heard the shouts. Did he actually build that heat bomb thing I told him not to?” he grinned.


“Yeah!” I said.


WHAT?!” Raymond roared.


“Box! NOW!” I grabbed the box from behind Raymond’s chair. It was heavy, but with it I ran back to Toby, who was watching the bomb, now flashing quicker than you could blink, and slammed the box over the bomb. Toby frantically pushed me aside and slid the box onto the floor and sat on it.


BOOM!


Toby flinched and all our ears popped.


By now, I was sure that Toby’s butt was in need of at least some minor sort of medical help.


He rolled off the box and turned it up. The inside was smoking red hot and must’ve been a centimetre thinner.


In the floor was, to say the least, a very deep hole. It was surrounded with scorch marks.


“Wow.” I said.


“Yes,” said Raymond, behind me, “Why did you make that thing, when I told you twice not to?”


Grunting, Toby stood, “I had to, Raymond. When I asked you if I could make it, I wasn’t actually asking you…”


“You were just telling me in a way I’d appreciate,” Raymond kicked away some papers, “Clean up, Toby”


“Quiet, you! You’re the one who always tells me to work in a clean environment.”


“This… Is not what I meant.”


There was a crack, and Toby breathed “Ow…” from his spot on the arm of my chair.


“Oh, and you should be careful not to sit on my pin-thingies. I put the box on the arm of that chair.”


  Toby stood wobbled for a second and fell over. He lashed out, hitting the arm of the chair bringing the pins on top of him.
I could help but laugh. "Why couldn't we just use the box in the first place?"
Toby looked up weakly,
Raymond smirked, "How embarrassing would it be if I told everybody this, then told you 'I told you so' in front of their faces? Ooh, you would hate that."
"More embarrassing than that poster you were holding earlier?" I chimed in.
"Poster?" Toby's eyes lit up, as Raymond's darkened. With agility that seemed impossible for him to use a moment ago, Toby leaped up and ran to Raymond's room. I followed and Raymond tagged along, grumbling. 



Tuesday, 5 June 2012

Hi everyone!!!!!!!!!!!
That's a little too many exclamation points for a boy. But I guess for a hyperactive boy who is at the moment feuled by caffeine, you can let it go. Too bad I'm not that.
This is a post cuz I just feel like posting again. And also, I had to show Lavender Hope a pic, and this was the quickest way to show her, (it's been a long eight days). So the pic that'll be somewhere on this post, is dedicated to her.
Also it's my birthday on June 25th, so that's awesome. I permit you to party all you want then. Your welcome.
Sorry... I'm really tired... Ok.... kb  sdcv                              nrtfghyujkl;ohjuygtfrrtfghyuilohyjut.
I just slammed my face down on the key board and rolled it around.
Actually, I slammed my face into the keyboard and rolled it around, but nothing happened so I used my forehead to type that nonsense up there. I'll bet you can't translate it!
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
now my fingure's on the z key. Or was. Yeah. It was.
Ok... this os what I write like when I'm tired. Ok, just kidding, this is what I write like when I'm tired and have nothing to write about. I could force you to do something for my birthday. I mean joke about it. But that would require me to THINK. BLINK....don't do thhgjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjbn
I did that face-keyboard-forehead thing again...
I'm hilarious to talk to when I'm half asleep. Too bad you're not talking to me.
This is and interesting 3rd post... Third... Ender Wiggin's a third...
OK whatever, I'm going to-  look here's that picture I talked about before:
I like it. I'm pretty sure there's a load of bias in that though. So if you like it, when I ask you, tell me.
Do you like it?
Nah, it doesn't matter... It's MY drawing after all. and I.. like it... a bit. I guess.
I'm sure it played a part in inspiring a story I recently started writing.
OK. I don't know how many people have read this far into the post, as it was mostly me sleeping. So to save some of my time, and those who are politely going through this, I bid you Good Night.

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

the Grand Opening

Okay, so I've decided to post something new here because, well, my blog was starting to get a little... boring!

I made the grand opening today and saw exactly none of you there. I was standing there all formal in my suit all alone. You didn't miss anything though, except the food*, the water slide**, the speech***, the ribbon cutting****, and the hugging***** and the limo****** that finally brought me home.
Don't worry though, I recorded the whole thing, here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the Grand Opening of this Blog!!!
video
Fun memories... pitty you missed it :(.

Anyway, expect great things to happen on this blog. Unless I decide to make it a news blog, because you guys care so much about me and whatever I do to procrastinate, that you'll busy yourself enough to follow every blog I make... (that there's sarcasm, I expect no such things from they who have better things to do).
That being said, if things go well, there will be 3 times the awesomeness on this blog. I'm not going to say anything now, but let's hope I'm right.

Now I end this second ever post with a drawing I'm working on...


It's PJ! OK, tell me what you think... (Of the blog, I mean, not of the picture, I know you love that. Ok, fine, you can tell me what you think on ANY aspect of this post/blog/I donno.)
Okay? GO!
__________________________________________________________________________________
* Water
** Malfunctioning of "food"
*** (cough)... "Why won't this record!?! Oh... the memory card would help..."
**** A peice of red paper
*****I was the only one there.
******I made that part up.