Quotes From Your Own Work!

[Sparda's rejected son]

@TerrorA PM sent.

A except from the final portions of Chapter 8 of my original story "Cyborg Fighting Super Riders."

At the lounge, men and women go flying out the boxing ring as Koko leans against the ring's ropes. Danny and (the turtle) Mikey watch as the next challenger approaches a bored Koko. The tall, muscular man slams his fists together as Koko gets off the rope and folds her arms.
"Your going down baby girl." The boxer says. "I'm going-"
Bam! The boxer is knocked out of the ring and lands on the floor.
"Don't give me nicknames." Koko takes off the boxing gloves and exits the ring. "Come on Danny lets go home."
"Alright then. Lucky for us Liz isn't around. She must be off or something." Danny says as he and Koko head for the car. "Sorry for dragging you down here. Cyforms can't give you a challenge, and clearly neither can humans."
"Yeah those boxers were boring." Koko holds the tank containing Mikey while Danny drives. "But thank you, that was sweet of you. I do like fighting even if it is weak humans. Hey you like those superhero documentaries right?"
"Yeah I do." Says Danny. "Why do you ask?"
"When we get back to the house how about we watch one of those documentaries?" Koko looks at Danny and smiles.
"I would like that. I would like that a lot.”
Chapter 8 end.

 

[Shadow]

There's a theory that I'm having too much fun writing Scarecrow and I need to calm down...idk what they're talking about, but here's my ode to southern summers:

The roof was one of the most uncomfortable things he'd had to sit on in years...and that included Arkham's visitor seating. Twigs and dead leaves jabbed into his back and legs. The old shingles looked like they might give way at any moment, but, as long as he didn't start slipping, he didn't mind. Jonathan leaned back, trying to keep from dropping his cigarette and barely glancing up at the sky—today a milky blue like a cataract in God's eye—and tried to close his eyes. One of his hands clutched a small notebook and pen to his lap. It wasn't particularly windy today, but he didn't want to risk losing the book. The gas mask dangling on his knee was pinching him through his trousers but, like the roof situation, he ignored it. What were a few minutes of annoyance really worth in the span of things? With a sharp intake of breath, he opened his eyes. He'd almost forgotten how much he hated Georgia. It was hot and sticky—everything ended in sweat and a subconscious insistence that he needed another shower. Even showering left him feeling unclean. (Though the argument over whether this was psychosomatic or just the humidity was still ongoing.) Everywhere he went seemed to invite mosquitos and flies upon him, despite copious amounts of bug spray. He'd had a near brush with a knot of angry serpents the previous night, which had done nothing to bolster his confidence.

Today, however, the bugs and snakes weren't a problem. Today they left him alone. Everything did. Jonathan took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift away as though he had no other concerns in the world.

The town below him was choking under thick swirls of pale green gas.

To hell with summer....

 

[V's patron]

For my 12th doctor/bilquis shipfic-

Bilquis ends the first chapter by asking the 12th doctor(series 8) if he still needs a nurse. The first time they meet hasnt happened yet for him (series 10) so he is more confused than usual.

She also tells him that Clara is his carer not because he doesn't want to care, he's too afraid too (next chapter i guess)

Bill calls the pairing of her and Bilquis "Bill squared".

She also will poke fun at Dr falling for the goddess of love and lust. Dr says he once married his own assassin, he can handle it. He also says he really likes bad girls, so much his previous self wouldn't shut up about it (the 11th doctor actually wouldn't)

Missy will call Shadow "mr. Sexy audience surrogate" and slap his ass. Shadow will say thank you like a question, Bill and Nardole look at each other like "of course she would", Mr nancy will laugh and Mr. Wednesday threathens to sue the Dr. for sexual harrasment.

"when you live as long as I have all your old friends become your enemies and all your enemies start feeling like old friends"
- the doctor explains how he knows mr wednesday to Bill

 

[Rebel Dynasty]

*Coughs* >.>

Spoiler: Because Phenex in a black cat suit, that's why

Finally, it was time.

Phenex pulled the hood low over his face, making sure that it hid both his eyes and hair from view. The inner lining clung to him, static preventing it from accidentally slipping off, should he find himself at a full run in the near future.

With what he had planned, running seemed pretty likely.

The rest of the material draped around his shoulders, forming a mantel that blended in with the black cat suit he’d donned for the occasion. A drawstring held the material at his throat, reinforced by the complicated series of knots he’d tied into the silver loop forming the cat suit’s front zipper. He had only a moment’s regret at being forced to wear form-fitting stealth gear before he commenced checking his inventory.

Utility belt; check. Spectral grenades; check. Phenex plucked one of these from one of the belt’s tethers, carefully inspecting it to ensure it would do what he needed it to, should the occasion arise. Satisfied that the spectral grenades seemed to be in order, he continued on.

Fingerless leather gloves reinforced with Mythosian flex-armour along the knuckles? Check. Steel-tipped boots with flex-fit soles? Check. Ethereal transceiver? Che—

“All right, Phenex,” Lyka’s voice came through the transceiver, momentarily startling him. “Our team’s in position. What’s your status?”

“Ready when you are.”

“And you’re sure they’ll be there?”

Phenex clicked his tongue. “Lyka, you’ve asked me that seven times now—”

“Hey, considering what we’re about to do, I think it’s a pretty relevant question.”

“And each and every time,” Phenex continued, ignoring the interruption, “what have I said?”

There was a pause before Lyka muttered, “Yes. They’ll be there.”

“There you go.” Phenex clipped the transceiver where the cat suit and cowl drawstrings met, tugging on it experimentally to make sure it was secure. “Relax, Lyka. Kunis hasn’t let us down before; I don’t expect him to, now.”

“I hope you’re right.” A sigh. Then, “Any word from Lithias’s team yet?”

Phenex started to nod, until he remembered Lyka couldn’t see him. “Yeah, he checked in a couple minutes before you. Said communication on his end would be shut off unless something came up.”

“We should probably do the same,” said Lyka. “The commander just wanted to make sure you were ready to fulfill your end.” There was a faint note of disapproval in Lyka’s voice, and Phenex took a moment to appreciate that despite their closeness, Lyka didn’t agree with everything Asclepius said or did.

Phenex performed one last perimeter check before teleporting from the rooftop onto the docks below, his footfalls muffled against the planks. “All right, I’m going in. Remain on standby until I give the all-clear.”

“You got it. Be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?”

A snort came through the transceiver before Phenex switched it off, his lips quirking into a grin despite himself. Can always count on you to tell me what you really think, eh Lyka?

You're welcome.

 

[V's patron]

in my rough outline for my time travel movie i wrote

"Younger khalid was worried about his future and ecstatic about meeting his older self. it's like getting the cheat sheet for your life. He will realize its all fun and games till his older self starts lying to him..."

my tv show spec has the working title of "part time spirit helper". It's like the marketing tagline "part time retail worker, part time spirit helper".

I also said Daredevil was the adult version of Spiderman who was the teenage version of superman which i will explain (somehow)

 

[Shadow]

Decided to type up the intro to my steampunk novel:

Cold. So cold. She could no longer feel the ice burning her exposed flesh. Earlier, her head had throbbed angrily, but even that had stopped now. Through her layers of furs and thick fabric, she couldn’t feel her body. Even her fingers no longer responded when she tried to wiggle them. She didn’t know how she’d gotten here.

She stared up at the stars deliriously instead, giving up on moving for the moment. Silver pinpricks on an endless black abyss. Bands of colour danced merrily between her and the stars, beckoning her to join them. All was silent but for the howling of the wind—mournful wails into an empty void. She was alone. It suddenly occurred to her that it didn’t matter how she’d found herself there, lying in the snow.

She was dying.

Unless she moved, nothing would stop that. But she couldn’t. And the wind howled on its eerie lament.

Always good to murder your MC before the story technically starts....

 

[EA9Sol]

An excerpt from Flights of Fancy a collation of short stories ideas that pop into my head randomly. lol This short story's title is called "Newly Dead", but it's just a working title and is subject to change. XD >.> But, it's far from perfect. x.x

-
Thaddeus awakens to find himself in an all white room with a single door. He surveys the surroundings and to his chagrin finds nothing to help him gain his bearings or a means of escape. Letting out a heavy sigh, he tries to sit up but finds himself confined to the bed. Held down by a few brown leather straps in a white room with no way out, he beings to panic. ‘What did he do to deserve this he?’ he thinks to thinks to himself. As tears start to swell at the corner of his eyes as macabre thoughts race through his mind.

“You humans are so melodramatic,” a female voice said, snapping Thaddeus out of his self-petty.

“What?!” Thaddeus yelps, his voices cracking with fear as his head snaps to the source of the voice.

Standing next to him was a young woman who was grinning out him. “relax, Thaddeus,” She coos, her reddish eyes gleaming with mirth. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How did -?”

“I know a great deal about you Thaddeus and so does my boss.” The woman says

, turning on her heels so her back was facing him.

Thaddeus studies her. Noticing her long raven black hair that swept above her ankles. Who were this woman and her boss? And what did they want with him?

But, before Thaddeus’ mind could speculate the woman snaps Thaddeus out of his thoughts by addressing him once more.

“Thaddeus!” she sings his name. “I know you have lots of questions, but you’ll have to bear with me, okay. You have been out for a long time, longer than we expected and are running behind schedule so...”

“So…?”

“I’m going to tell en route to our destination and that means no questions till we get there.”

“And why’s that?” Thaddeus asks, despite his fear, curiosity is starting to grow.

“Because you have a lot of question and I don’t have the time nor feel like answering all them.” She says with a brilliant smile flashing her feline teeth, “keep them till we get to the boss man himself.

“Okay,” Thaddeus starts, but hesitate.”

“If you have something to ask now, say it or forever hold you r peace.” the woman says.

“What is your name?”

The woman lets out a small chuckle, leaning forward in a bow. “My name is Niki and this is Limbo.”

“Limbo?” Thaddeus repeats. “But, that can’t be possible -”

“Yes, it can!” Niki interjects, as she steps forward and undoes the leather bindings holding him. “Now let’s go, time is of the time is of the essence and we do not have much of it.”

~ - ~

A few minutes later Thaddeus found himself down a lighted corridor, passing a similar looking door. he wonders where he was. It couldn’t be Limbo. But, he kept his doubts to himself and followed Niki down the corridor.

Soon the corridor ends at a T-shaped fork where an elevator awaits them. Niki steps in and motions for Thaddeus to follow suit. He hesitates for s moment before stepping inside. Niki gives him a reassuring smile, before hitting a lite up button.

“I’ve told you we’re are in Limbo,” Niki speaks breaking the silent tension. “I mean it. So brace yourself.”

“What?” Thaddeus

Niki smiles at Thaddeus then turns her attention toward the doors, leaving him to his silent fuming. But after a few minutes of riding the elevator up the solid walls become translucent, reviving a sprawling cityscape below.

“That’s not New York City, is it?” Thaddeus asks as a sickening feeling begins to grow.

“Of course isn’t,” Niki coos. “It’s Limbo your new home! And all your burning questions answered in a short moment.”

The translucent walls become solid once more as the elevator stops at its destination.

 

[Shadow]

From the ScRiddler Ghost-and-Mrs.-Muir-themed AU I started this morning (showcasing Query and Echo):

“Get in, nerd; we’re going house hunting with you,” Nina called from the driver’s seat.

“I—” Edward stared at the girls a long moment, before, finally recovering, replying: “Do you always resort to rude, outdated memes first thing in the morning?”

“Only when she’s hung over,” Diedre said, ducking back into the car.

 

[Rebel Dynasty]

Last scene of Fall of the Spectrum, Chapter Ten (draft four, but the scene was originally added in draft three).

Spoiler: Evil Reeves is evil

After their failure in Wales, Reeves was certain nothing could possibly improve his mood. As an all too familiar figure was ushered through the temple door, however, he realized just how wrong he had been.

Shadows encroached from the far corners of the room toward its centre, cackling as they formed a semicircle around the figure. If she entertained thoughts of retreating, there was little chance of accomplishing that end. The candles lining the wall-mounted shelves flickered in agitation, the tiny yellow flames almost going out entirely until the shadows passed them by. The rest of the temple was cast in gloom, wisps of cobweb hanging from the corners of the ceiling in thick clumps, where the husks of long-dead insects still remained.

Reeves let silence hang for several minutes more, eyeing the Naga with a satisfaction that could not be contained; his grin growing infinitesimally with every passing second. Skeld’ek stared coolly back at him, yellow reptilian eyes narrowing in displeasure. On the underside of her maw were four vivid scars, suspiciously reminiscent of knuckles, dark against her pearlescent scales; a souvenir from Reeves during the exodus from Nowhere short months ago.

The memory alone was enough to have him chuckling under his breath.

A gentle breeze wafted in through the open doorway, stirring the cobwebs and ruffling the lapels of Reeves’ coat, the heady scent of something floral hanging thickly in the air before dissipating. Muffled grunts and harsh whispers were heard out on the temple’s grounds, punctuated by the occasional scrape of leaves as tree branches brushed one another.

Finally, when the last of Skeld’ek’s company had been escorted into the building—two hybrids, one bearing the markings of harpy and Bajang, the other of indeterminable origin—Reeves rose from his shadowy throne, dispelling it with a casual wave of his hand.

“How the mighty have fallen,” he said, eyeing the two hybrids briefly before returning his gaze to Skeld’ek. “To think that you were one of the renegade faction leaders causing us trouble all this time. Didn’t take you long to climb that corporate ladder, did it? It must burn you up inside, having to crawl on that snake-belly of yours now that you’ve been beaten.”

Skeld’ek curled her lip at this, but still said nothing. Only the telltale twitching of her tail belied her outward calm. It was subtle, but if he looked closely, Reeves could see just the faintest tremor travelling from the hooded folds on either side of her head, and down the long, thick trunk of her body.

That’s right, you pathetic snake. You’re wise to fear me. Aloud, he said, “But then again, perhaps now is your chance to achieve true greatness. Is that what you want, Skeld’ek? To be more than just an ant beneath Apophis’s magnifying glass?”

He watched as Skeld’ek carefully weighed her response, the two hybrids behind her—roughly bound by shadows and forced to their knees—exchanging furtive glances.

Tension hung in the air like a poison cloud. Skeld’ek seemed short of breath for a long moment until finally, her forked tongue poked out between sharp fangs, emitting a resigned hiss. “You’ve made your point, Shade.” The ‘S’ was sharp and drawn out, a flicker of deep dislike darkening Skeld’ek’s expression. “You know very well that your master has left me and mine with no other alternative.”

“Not true,” Reeves countered, grinning lazily back at her. “Death is as viable a choice as any other. One you can still make, if you like.” And one I’d be more than happy to oblige.

Skeld’ek’s nostrils flared at this, and she bared her fangs. “Were you in our position, would you choose death so willingly?” She didn’t wait for his answer, the hiss of her words rising to a high-pitched growl. “I think not. Now, either accept our surrender and indoctrination into your so-called army, or send us to a general who will. I will not be reduced to begging, not by you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that…”

Skeld’ek had barely opened her mouth to make a scathing reply, when the temple floor began to shudder, dust raining down from the ceiling in choking clouds that made all—with the exception of Reeves and his shadows—cough and sputter. By the time it had cleared, Mizake had lumbered into the temple; ears pinned back, a deep growl resonating from the back of his throat as beady black eyes fixed on Skeld’ek and the two lesser demons behind her.

Reeves settled back into the shadow throne that had rematerialized behind him, inspecting his gloved hand with an air of indifference before propping his elbow on the armrest, chin resting on his knuckles. A lazy smirk curled the corners of his mouth, his vision tinted red.

“You were saying?”

I don't know why, but I'm pleased with this. Chances are, I'll hate it later on, so just going to enjoy this good feeling while it lasts...

 

[V's patron]

"I am the Obeah and you will heed my warning" or "I am the Obeah and you will heed my words"

two variations of my villian's catchphrase

yay or nay?

pS- see if you can get the reference.

 

[Shadow]

^ I like the first one better, tbh. But I think it would have more flow if you did it like "I am the Obeah; you will heed my warning/words." Up to you, though.

---

I'm back on my bs and writing something I haven't done stuff for in.... -looks up when the last time she wrote TFG fics was- Since 2013. Weeellp.

“War is vengeful,” the spirit murmured, utterly toneless.

It took Julian a painfully long time to realise this wasn’t just an oddly-timed remark about the horrors of battle. It was a commentary about the other shadow man who often inhabited this place. The name “Marcus” had come from “Mars”, after all—the one the Romans had called “god of war”; coincidence? That seemed unlikely.

“He isn’t here,” Julian replied. He wasn’t sure why the spirit continued to linger here, but he didn’t have enough interest in it to shoo it away. It was dead; great, he was supposed to be, too. There were much more interesting things to be focusing on right now.

But the spirit wasn’t moving, just hovering under one of the more distant side tables like a lost child. Again it said: “They are vengeful.”

With a deep, frustrated sigh, he flipped his books closed and turned towards it. “Why is Marcus vengeful?”

The spirit seemed to hesitate before saying unsteadily, “He was jealous. And so He took Them. And he took Her, and He set Her ablaze. They tried to save Her, but They failed. They caught flame, too. And then They were gone.” Very, very quietly it added: “Now They want the end of their kind. No more shadows.”

 

[Rebel Dynasty]

Spoiler: Shadow & Flame, Fight Scene Snippet

There were uncertain whispers before footfalls began approaching him; two from the left, and one from the right.

Bozo on the right it is, then.

Heat swelled outward from his chest and gathered in the palms of his hands, each finger alive with pinpricks of orange light. When the guards’ steps had closed with the desk, Phenex somersaulted to the right, coming up in a crouch with both hands in front of him. Fire erupted into his palms, and with a twitch of his wrists, fanned toward the guard before he could unsheathe the curved blade at his hip.

The guard let out a strangled yell as he dodged to the side, barely avoiding the flames. Smoke curled up where the fire had touched the edge of his uniform, the black fabric fraying at the elbow before he patted it out.

“Don’t just stand there,” he snarled at the other guards, “ice the little punk!”

More flame erupted onto Phenex’s fingertips, spreading until it cloaked his entire upper body. “Good luck with that.”

All three guards lunged at him as one, the first unsheathing his curved blade and arcing it through the air toward Phenex’s head. The other two came at him in a pincer formation; one with a rusted machete, the other with cloudy purple energy seeping from his mouth.

Phenex dodged the first demon’s blade, noting the malevolent glow in his red eyes before whirling around and lashing out at the machete-wielder with his foot, sending the rusted blade skittering across the concrete. The third blew out his toxic purple cloud, but not before Phenex had ducked down, sweeping his foot out and knocking the demon’s legs out from under him.

He hit the ground with a grunt of pain, his toxic breath dissipating before it had even begun to coalesce. While he was still on the ground, Phenex started to bring his leg down in an axe-kick, only for a heavy form to collide with him on his right, fetching them both up against the desk. In the ensuing scuffle, his hood fell back, revealing his face for all to see.

Damn it. Phenex threw the demon off, gathering fire into his hands as he did. Lucky for me, I was going to off these suckers anyway.

He thrust his right hand forward, instantly engulfing the downed demon in flame, his high-pitched screams echoing around the room.

“You’ll pay for that.” The blade-wielder had picked up his fallen comrade’s machete, both blades glinting dully as he twirled them.

Next to him, the poison demon had just gotten to his feet, thin shoulders heaving with panted breaths. Eyes the orange of sunset glared at him from a leathery grey face, yellowed fangs bared in a snarl. “I say we kill him slow. For Caspius.”

“For Caspius!”

The blade-wielder led the charge, each running step causing the ground to shake under his considerable girth. Phenex readied himself, flames licking him from head to toe and bathing the dim room in its russet brilliance.

Closer. Come on, that’s it… Now!

The demon made a horizontal sweep with one blade, then the other. Phenex sidestepped the first, then swung around to the demon’s exposed side to deliver a fiery punch to his ribs. The blade-wielder doubled over, wheezing. While he gasped for air, the poisonous demon dragged in a deep breath and blew it out in a rolling cloud of toxic purple.

Phenex held his breath, letting the poison cloud wash over him. His pores stung where it made contact, but within seconds, his self-regen kicked in, causing his skin to glow with golden light. He paid this little attention, however, closing the distance between himself and the poison demon to deliver a series of punches and a kick to the midsection. The poison demon dodged the first couple of strikes before Phenex caught him behind one spine-covered ear, the kick hitting his stomach dead-centre and sending him skidding across the concrete.

By this time, the blade-wielder had recovered, but it was too late; in a burst of flame, Phenex lit both demons up, the fire flowing in a clockwise direction to encompass them both in a wall of flame nearly five feet high. Their screams cut off almost as quickly as they started, leaving nothing but a faint echo and a stench akin to burning rubber and spoiled meat behind.

Phenex straightened, dusting himself off and flinging his hood back over his head so that it covered his face. He remained where he was for a moment longer, straining his ears for the sound of back-up, but was met with only silence. Wherever the fighting ring’s bosses and the rest of their people were, it appeared they hadn’t heard a thing.

Good.

I'm pretty happy with how this turned out, considering it being first-draft material, and all. ^^

 

[Dante's Stalker]

I found this bit. Sorry if I've posted it before. It's from my Savage Journey. Do not remember writing ths, though, but hey.

It was at another lovely random time of the evening when Mikael decided to crash in on Claire's wandering thoughts. As always, his entrance was unannounced and swift, kind of like a burglar or a shadow, and exactly like a ninja.
She didn't know he was there until he lassoed all her thoughts and yanked them to him.
With a devious grin, Mikael said, "If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach...then love me now. Love me big and fast and chocolate."
Such a clever little sneak!
"If the way to your heart is through your stomach, your anatomy is completely unanatomical." Claire said, because she vowed to lay off the choc chip biscuits, to Mikael's great annoyance.
"That's not a real word."
"And that comeback is so old that even Arnie's 'I'll be back" line is modern."

 

[Rebel Dynasty]

Wrote this the other day. Aside from knowing it's three years into his undercover mission, I'm not sure exactly where this snippet will go in the main document, since I haven't reached that point in the timeline yet:

Spoiler: Phenex Introspection/Fear of Becoming the Enemy

Phenex stared into the mirror, his breath fogging its surface until he could see little else but his left eye, like a golden beacon in a dark, mist-covered realm. Steam rose from his bare shoulders, each breath heavy with the humidity of the enclosed space surrounding him; the flicker of his flames along the surface of his skin as soothing as a summer’s rain. Or at least what he imagined a summer rain felt like to most people, considering his own dislike of damp weather.

Curiously enough, it didn’t bother him here, where he had only the slowly trickling waters and his thoughts for company. Thoughts that, though considerably calmer than they’d been moments ago, were ever-present in the back of his mind, filled with all of the turmoil of the past three years.

How simple it had all seemed before. Infiltrating Reeves’ organization in New Orleans, frustrating his every attempt to build a demonic army while acting as one of his most-trusted subordinates, carrying out the orders of the council… But the truth of it was, it had never been simple. He remembered all too well the struggles he’d suffered early on, the obstacles he’d had to overcome, with only the help of those outside of the council’s reach, as those on the Reg. Force had had no choice but to retreat into the background. Too dangerous, the council had said, to involve any other operatives on his mission; if they wanted to remain inconspicuous in their actions, Phenex would have to carry the rest out on his own.

He ran a hand along his face, settling back on the bathhouse bench and closing his eyes. It hadn’t just been the council. Asclepius…no matter how often he proved himself, no matter how many times he had shown his allegiance was to the council’s cause, Asclepius had made it his mission to question him every step of the way. At first, Phenex had been angry, had found it outright insulting that Asclepius would even dare to compare him to Reeves.

But the more days that passed him by, the more he witnessed what Reeves himself was up against, what he had suffered and what he was striving for…well, it didn’t excuse his actions. Phenex could never condone them, no matter his shared dislike of humans. He could still see the girl he’d helped to her feet after Arkas had struck her, could still see the hatred in the boy’s eyes who shielded her after Phenex had been forced to give them a rough push, lest Arkas or Mereth caught on to his deception.

Worst of all, he could see that same girl two years after she and the rest of the captives in her group had been freed, once again confined to one of Reeves’ cages. Only it had been too late, then—the experiment had already taken place, robbing her of her humanity before his eyes.

“Stop it,” he chided himself, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Just stop. What good does it do you, now?”

As if out of spite, his thoughts delved deeper into the rapidly-flowing centre of his memories, forcing images to the surface like bubbles across a tar pit; dark and oozing. Human faces stared back at him from the deepest recesses of his mind, faces filled with loathing and fear, faces contorted in agony as something other writhed under the surface of their skin, pushing its way out.

 

[Shadow]

Heh...hehe...from my labyrinth au of Fable III:

“Are you expecting a f***ing medal for being less of an @sshole than you could have been?! Well, bravo, Your Majesty; it must be exhausting to be so f***ing chivalrous!”

(I don't know why this is making me laugh so much, this scene is killing me to write.)

 

[LuciferHades]

What I have so far in my novel, Devil Nite



As night fell upon the town, and the majority of its people retired to their beds within the greater confines of the city; the moon’s lunar glow has formed to shine upon the entire city, caressing each building in a white light – while the shadows and alleys grew in forbearance, all seemed still within the town; until a scream, loud and chilling, broke that stillness – despite what appears in the town during the day, at night is when the demons come out to play. The person that the scream from earlier belonged to, was a woman in her late teens, she was partying with her friends and they had begun to stay out later than they had expected, one of her friends claimed to have seen something, or someone within one of the alleys. A claim that had, in an instant, cost him his life with a razor-sharp claw ripping through his mid-section, causing his blood and entrails to spill out onto the cobblestone pathway. The woman, and her friends had then screamed after, their cries had alerted more demons and soon she was all that remained; panting, and with tears stinging her eyes, she ran to find some sort of help while the demons that carried the fresh blood of her friends chased after her, “Help! Someone, anyone please help me!” she screamed out, over and over as she had hoped to find someone with the means to rescue her from the demons. Yet, no sooner than when she had begun running from the scene and the demons, she hit a dead end. She was going to become a goner, and she knew it, the cold fear of death had her in its white-knuckled grip as she began to pray and hope to meet her friends and family, she was beginning to lose the hope she once had to survive. The demons that had tailed her now were closing their distance with her when, from out of nowhere, the rhythmic footsteps of her potential savior rose in volume. “Now, this is why I’m mainly a cat guy.” Sounded the dry voice within the empty streets in front of the woman and demons, the closer he was to them; The better she was able to see his crimson predatory eyes, a trait mostly shared with devils and other nocturnal hunters. “**** off, devil! This woman is our prey!” one of the demons in the pack spoke out, earning a soft chuckle from the man whom pulled out two handguns from their holsters at his hips. grinning, the devil had fired one of the guns at the demon that had spoke to him, killing the fiend upon impact and causing it to dissolve into ash, the action earning itself a choir of angered growls from the remaining demons within the pack. The man kept his grin as the demons he had both made his appearance aware to, and also antagonized in the worst possible way, pushed off their human prey to surround him; their black eyes burn with a wrathful fire as if to attempt in staggering the devil.

 

[V's patron]

“What if we are born without any purpose and then it is up to choose our essence and follow it through with our actions” Jean Paul Sartre.


Fancypants quote- Dealing with the uncertainties of your 20s with the uncertainties of the afterlife.


Marketing tagline- Master of None with Superpowers


Series logline- Khalid deals with the ghosts of his past by helping the spirits around him.


Pilot logline- A retail associate tries to keep his job when a spirit no one else can see asks for his help.

HOW THE WORLD OF THE SHOW WORKS-

Are spirits and ghosts the same thing?

A ghost is a deceased person’s soul left on earth while a spirit is a seperate creature that humans can’t see. We don’t become spirits but we can become ghosts.

Is there an afterlife and will we ever see it?

There is an afterlife but we won’t ever visit it. It's best left a great unknown to both the viewers and the characters. However when we get to season 10, that could be the right time to do it.

Will God ever be a character on the show?

God’s on a different show called Life. He’s the director and too busy to pop up on ours but his presence will be felt.

Basically quotes from the series bible I've been doing.

#I'mawriter

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Spoiler: DMC inspired, of course

“You do realise it makes no difference whether you eat it or not, right?” Eli said harshly. “If we drop dead tomorrow from a brain haemorrhage or heart failure, all your hard effort to ‘eat healthy’ will be for nothing. We are genetically predisposed to certain ailments, thanks to pops. Now stop being a snob and eat the damn pizza.”
Nabot scoffed back and firmly pushed the pizza box back across the table toward them. “I wasn’t aware that you could be genetically predisposed to idiocy. I will not have it, Eli.”
“You are whatever you say I am,” Eli shot back.
“Except I don’t blame Father for everything that goes wrong. That’s an inherently human trait.”

Kudos to late nights of researching and studying genetics, twins, human psychology and other sciency stuff. Thank you, internet (and also my friends studying so hard to complete their nursing degrees!)

 

[Shadow]

-reads from a paper- "TBC's going to be a bright, sunny, happy romance fic."

The closer the carriage rattled towards civilisation, the more aware of an uncomfortable sensation Victoria became. A flicker in her gut. Something like fear. She’d always been aware of how people looked at Reaver, but now…now she seemed to see it in a different light. The villagers and townsfolk they encountered when they stopped to rest looked at her with awe and delight. In contrast, they looked at Reaver with utter loathing and seemed confused upon realising their queen and the man they so disliked were travelling together. She tried to ignore it, but it was quickly becoming aware that the people weren’t going to let her. Even once they were back in the carriage, she couldn’t shake the thought.

Annoyed, she almost violently drew the curtains on her window and reached across Reaver to draw his as well before settling down to take his hand and rest her head against his shoulder. Aware of his gaze upon her, she could almost feel the question lingering in his mind.

After a moment, she finally murmured: “They’re not going to let us be together, are they?”

She didn’t really expect an answer. After all, Reaver was used to how people reacted to him. Even more so, he didn’t seem to care how others reacted to him. She didn’t have the option to not care—either the public approved of her decisions or she was at risk of losing her position and their trust. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t have much of a choice. In contrast, Reaver had all the options in the world. He could ignore whatever he chose with minimal change to the public’s opinion. She expected him to scoff at her concern.

Instead, he lifted their entwined hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. In the end, that was the only answer she needed.

-rechecks paper- Wait, sorry, lemme correct that: "TBC's going to be an angsty cluster**** where no one ends up happy." Right, that was the correct one.

 

[Rebel Dynasty]

A snip from some of today's work on S&F:

Spoiler: Shadow & Flame, Phenex Drawing the Wrong Kind of Attention--Again

There was the scrape of metal against leather, a whistling as something swished through the air. A fraction of a second before the weapon could make contact, Phenex whirled around, ducking under the blade’s trajectory and lashing out with his right leg, striking below his assailant’s knee. A crack sounded over the pelting of the rain, followed by a masculine grunt of pain.

Phenex didn’t waste time. Pressing his advantage, he lashed out again, this time targeting the opposite knee. Before his foot could connect, the other stumbled back, hissing a curse as he was forced to put all of his weight on his wounded leg. By the time Phenex had retreated into a more defensive stance, his attacker had recovered, swinging his curved blade in a wide horizontal arc.

Sidestepping, he evaded the blade, if only just barely; the wind of its passing causing his bangs to flutter beneath his hood. Then bringing his hand down on the other’s wrist in a chopping motion, he relieved him of his weapon, catching the blade before it could hit the slime-covered ground.

In the next second, he had the blade at the other’s neck, noting the surprised widening of his violet eyes beneath a fringe of black hair streaked with grey. “Who the hell are you?”

The figure’s hands raised in a sign of surrender, his throat working before he replied, “Nobody you need to concern yourself with.”

Phenex let out a mirthless chuckle. “That’s funny, considering you just tried to kill me. Now I’ll ask again.” He pressed the blade more firmly against the other’s throat, trusting the high-collar of his half-cloak wouldn’t stop the blade from passing through. “Who. The hell. Are you?”

The other inhaled sharply, his expression growing strained. “I’m sorry.”

“I expect you are.” Phenex moved in closer to the figure, studying everything from the sharp curve of his chin, to the blue-green tinge of his complexion. “But that still doesn’t tell me who you are, or why you attacked me in the first place. I’ll give you one more chance. Squander it, and you won’t like what happens next—and I promise you, this blade will be the least of your concerns.”

“All right, take it easy.” The other’s shoulders slumped, his eyes closing in defeat. “I’ll tell you. But I have one request.”

Phenex narrowed his eyes, tempted to tell him that he had no bargaining power here. But something in the demon’s expression bothered him, causing a familiar prickle at the back of his mind.

Releasing a sigh, he lowered the blade a fraction. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

Hard to say if he finds trouble, or if trouble finds him. >.>