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F O R S A K E N ― [M] [IC]

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Satan.EXE

King of the Hell
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∣ Jade
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∣ RAVEN
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JADE
Outside ShoWare Center

Chapter One: Part Two
Another Day



Jade listened to the guy for a few moments. After hearing him out, she gave him a skeptical stare, then Amanda, and then back to him. "... Alright." She lowered her bow, and the arrow dissipated into thin air, "but don't think I'm letting my guard down for a moment." She watched Kyle and Amanda for a few moments. She seemed genuinely caring, even though Kyle was a complete stranger to her. "Don't reject the offer, you're a nutcase for trying to punch glass." She let the bow rest at her back and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So..." She started, turning her head toward courage, while she remained facing Kyle. "Courage? You know how cliche that name is, right?" She shook her head, looking back at the two Humans. "Anyways... My name is Jade. And my Human is Kyle."

 

Fuyu

The answer is at the top...
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I'm going with a friend~

Olivia smiled and followed him, wondering just what part of Seattle they were going to go to. She still had a couple of hours before her shift started, but... depending on where they were, she had to figure out how to get back. Clutching to the straps of her bag, she returned her sketchbook to where it had sat. Somehow... he thought. I'm happy I didn't go on the Ferris Wheel.

You won't be saying that when he hates you.

Olivia, shy but sensible, was a bigger voice of reason than he. A shadow crossed her face as she thought of that. it was only natural. He was lying so much about himself... even though it was what he wanted to be. At least.. he thought that way. It was so hard to understand... and even here, the city of Seattle, it was probably still little to be proud of.

Would it be easier to tell him now and get it over with?

Or would it be better to wait, or let him figure it out for himself?

This indecision running through her mind, Olivia probably wouldn't even notice making it to the restaurant.
 

dcjboi

With Quiet Courage
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Chapter 0 - Kyle Jackson - Outside ShoWare Center

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Kyle flinched as he looked down. Hopefully this person wouldn't try to trouble him but if it was a fight they wanted then it would be a fight they would get. Kyle balled up his fist and clenched them firmly, prepared to dodge whatever hit that came his way.

"o-oh, I'm sorry." The voice sounded small to him, almost as if it was squeaked out by a mouse.

Was that... and apology he heard? Glancing up to see a girl, about his age, offering him some bandages. Remembering the blood on his hand, Spencer held it up in the light once more.

"It's not bad at all." Kyle said, waving his hand as if to prove his point. He was surprised she didn't run away for him or give him a look of disgust. Looking at his hand and then at the girl again, Kyle cautiously took the alcohol and bandages and began to treat his hand.

"Why..." Kyle trailed off. He began to poor the alcohol on his hand and bit his tongue as a burning sensation throbbed throughout his hand. "Most people wouldn't stop for this."

He capped the alcohol and began to wrap his fist up clumsily with the bandaging the girl gave him. The blood and the entire injury was sealed up and it would be best not to use that hand for anything physically stressful.

"Why are you carrying that stuff around anyways?" Kyle said, changing the subject. He didn't want this girl to want something from him. There wasn't anything for him to give. He was broke, jobless, and angry. He didn't want this girl to think he owed her anything
 

SylveonStar

Sylveon
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"It's not bad at all." The boy said waving his hand around making Amanda shake her head and smile softly. Every guy she had met always said the same thing when it came to injuries.

"Why..." The boy trailed off, and he began to treat his hand pausing for a moment "Most people wouldn't stop for this."

Watching as he clumsily wrapped the bandages around his hand she waited patiently. "Well, most people are jerks that don't care about the well being of others." Amanda said softly. "Nowadays people are more concerned for themselves than others...I'm not like that. I helped you not because I had to but because I wanted to"

"Why are you carrying that stuff around anyways?" He asked as she put the small first aid kit away.

"I'm a bit of a klutz so I fall a lot. I also like to be prepared for anything" she smiled happily. "By the way my names Amanda, though everyone calls me Manda. What's your name?"
 

Khawill

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I walked for next to her with my hands in my pockets. I fiddled around with the money in my pocket, my wallet, and then my cell phone. I always loved my cell phone, really, because with it I could text just like normal kids and nobody ever had to know I couldn't speak. I never had anyone to text of course, but the fantasy was always present. On a similar note, I enjoyed the Internet for a short while, though my parents found it to be distracting, and pointless. I even remember my father's saying, "Being connected to everyone at any given time, being able to get any information known to man, that is something dangerous." He would always point at me and continue, "Only leaders, scientists, and politicians should have access to something like that. People like us, only need to know who and what is around them. A narrow focus, thats all we need." I found it ironic that about two months later, our guidance counsellor would explain how important Internet profiling would be for colleges.

Nonetheless, I followed my father's advise on the internet, and generally only used it to buy something without a phone or do research on a rainy day. I always thought that maybe if I had stayed on, no matter who I met, I could make friends. A keyboard could be my vocal cords, and I would never worry about isolation. The anonymous nature of the Internet also interested me, though not in any creepy sense. I entertained the idea that one day I could do some awesome thing on the Internet, and since nobody could put a face to it, it would never lose credibility. Then sometime later, I could reveal myself when everyone had accepted what I had done, and they would respect me just like a normal person. Though the idea also made me think that the people who admired it at first may completely hate it after finding out it was me.

It really came down to whether I thought, on a particular day, that people where really good naturally, or really bad.

On this particular day, I could find myself seeing the race pretty good. And I didn't regret going outside today, as I made a friend in real life. One who, despite my lack of communication, genuinely accepted me. I felt bad though, talking to me had to feel awkward, like talking to a brick wall. I still desperately wanted to speak to her, and maybe anybody in this world. Maybe if I could speak, I could've told my father how great the Internet for people who where not politicians or scientists. I could've said to him, "But what about the languages you could learn in your home? The cultures you could experience in one finger motion? Think of all the medical practices you could tell the average joe to do in his home to stay healthy!"

The fantasy of something like that amused me, it captivated me. But I knew I could never make a good argument, and that even if Olivia accepted me as a friend I was somewhat of a bane.

As we continued to walk, I kept my hand on my wallet, but stopped touching my phone. It made me think too much.
 

NightOfRemorse

my anxieties have anxieties
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Irene Young​

Irene strode through the hall of the apartment building, the area dead silent save for the clacking of the heels of her boots. She readjusted the strap of her messenger bag to stop it from pinching her shoulder and scratched an itch on her cheek. She'd found this abandoned apartment building last week and only just now returned to leave some artwork. Irene had spray-painted the profile of a Doberman Pinscher at the highest part of the building using a stencil she'd made. It was about six feet high and three feet across, on the outside wall by the fire escape.

Normally, Irene did this type of thing at night when it was harder to see her, but this neighborhood seemed fairly quiet and barren to the point where she had absolutely no concerns about getting caught. Besides, the Doberman was her favorite thing to spray-paint and she wouldn't miss an opportunity to do so. She couldn't really tell you why it was her favorite, just that she liked that the dog was intimidating in appearance but most dogs of that breed actually had great temperaments. Irene spray-painted that same picture dozens of times in different places and she wasn't planning on stopping soon.

She walked down the stairs of the building and returned to her car, slipping into the driver's seat and searching through the glove compartment for a box of Camels. She found the box and removed a cigarette, then turned her car on to roll the window down. Pop music blasted through the radio and Irene squinted her dark eyes at it, wondering when - and more importantly, how - anyone had put it on that station when Irene never switched from her usual station. She turned the volume knob all the way down and then stopped.

"Wait… where's my lighter?" she whispered to herself as she dug through the glove compartment for a second time and failed to find the lighter. "Damn it," she said, putting the cigarette back into the box and tossing the box onto the floor. She breathed in and tried to compose herself, for she'd been craving a Camel since she started working on the Doberman Pinscher.

"That's alright. That's alright," she told herself, sitting up straighter, putting on her seatbelt and putting the car in drive. She pulled out of the empty parking lot and drove out into the streets, cruising through the neighborhoods with no specific place to go. She came to a stop and turned up the volume on the radio, more pop music blasting through the stereo. Irene switched through the stations until The Sex Pistols replaced Britney Spears. Her bright red lips curled into a small smile and she continued driving. Irene had no place she felt like going right now, and she almost wished she had brought the taxi instead of her own car. At least then this driving around would have landed her some cash as well. God, am I in need of a smoke.
 

Lokiepie

ooh...Cake!
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Mae
Mae wandered down the walk way, hands stuck firmly into the back pockets of her jeans as she strode towards her destination. It had been awhile since she had taken any time to herself, usually busy with chores and work, but today she felt like a bit of a change. Her shift at the coffee shop didn't start till 7pm and there was a long day of pleasant nothings to be had, even if that did end in her having to sit all evening till 11, listening to badly written poems read by a bunch of hippies.
Crossing a quiet street, without checking if oncoming traffic was approaching, Mae skipped over the kerb and glanced up at the sky. Not a single cloud offered the promise of shade, as the blistering sun shone down on her head, turning the tarmac in some places, sticky under foot .

Smiling at the heat however, Mae felt herself relax a little, her shoulders slumping down as she watched a couple of kids playing hopscotch on the opposite pavement briefly, before turning down an even quieter street. Tall well-trimmed privet bushes lining the walk ways on either side, dulled the sound of everyday life from beyond its boundaries.
The sudden lull almost caused Mae to shudder, as her pace quickened slightly. It was even colder down this street, long shadows being casted by the greenery which loomed up over head.

Mae knew that it was silly to be even slightly worried about walking down a street, but there was just something about this place which sang out danger. Mae, however, tried to keep her pace even, resisting the urge to almost jog down the street as her mind wheeled over all the possibilities of what could happen.
Of course there was always the possibility of Mark showing his handsome, toxic features at any moment. This possibility only increased with the fact that Mae had not seen him over 4 weeks, which was a both a god send and a bad omen.

Whenever Mark dropped off the radar, Mae just knew he was planning something. He was never the subtle type and Mae had always been the type whom liked to keep her enemies within her sight. Of course she also dated this one too but that was an exception to the rule, after all you had to keep your enemies closer than your friends right?

Feeling the hair on the back of her neck prickle, Mae shuddered and quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure everything was clear and on seeing that no one was on her tail, Mae relaxed a little. It was only when she turned back around that the dark haired girl froze, mid step.
Leaning against the lamp-post, hands slotted into his jean, was the man himself. Hair spiked stylishly, white t-shirt pulled over numerous muscles and the perfect smile. Not many would realise from first glances alone that this guy was no better than the rats which scattered through the sewers below their feet. In fact, the rats were actually an improvement.

Mark grinned, flashing his teeth as he eyed his target whom had frozen like a frightened rabbit, as he pulled himself up and strode towards her.
"It's good to see you, Mae."

"Breathe some air Mark, the lack of oxygen to your brain is making you delirious. " Mae almost spat, her voice sounding braver than how she felt. Of course Mark would show up, the moment she had some time to herself to enjoy life, Mark would appear, a smear stain on such a promising day.

Mark laughed and continued towards her, same grin pulling his lips back, before he stopped just a few centimetres in front of her, his thick Cologne pooling off him and clogging mae's nose with deep musky scents. Frankly, it almost choked her and as she moved to step back, Mark grabbed her arm, squeezing it slightly and making Mae once again freeze.

"Heard you had some time off today. Thought it would be nice to spend some time together." Mark smiled once more, but this time he flashed just a little too much teeth, making it come across as a grimace as his hand tightened again around Mae's arm.
Mae could feel her skin bruise under the pressure, pinching too, as Mark's fingernails began to dig into her flesh and it was here that panic started to set in.
She was stood down a silent street, not another soul in sight with her only company as Mark.
 

Fuyu

The answer is at the top...
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I'm going out with a friend!

Olivia began to hum as she walked, and hummed without thinking. Her walk had slowed a little, as she thought of the tune. She looked at Tac and waved a couple of times, signing. What kind of food is there? She said this casually, spinning a little bit and almost tripping on a rock. "Oops!" she yelped, quickly regaining her balance.

Idly, she wondered what Tac was thinking about. He certainly wasn't like most boys... but Joey wasn't exactly normal either. He was certainly more thoughtful than most boys, that was for sure. She liked that. Even Joey had a hard time dealing with people here in the United States... and he had brothers! Maybe Tacent would be nice to Joey too... nah, she couldn't risk it. If someone tried to hurt Joey, she would do what she did best:

She would drift away.

Perhaps this as a cruel thing to do to someone who desired a friend. However, as much as Olivia wanted friends, she knew they were only temporary, just like she was, for the most part, temporary. They would never like a boy who behaved like a girl, who lied about something as innocent as who they were physically. She wanted friends, but she could live without them. It was a bit of an inconvenience, but one that could be borne with.

None of this, naturally, showed on her face. Olivia was an innocent girl, but she was not a fool. Joey may be her, but she was not Joey. She would protect what was left of Joey. If he became Olivia in the process, then so much the better.
 
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Caradoc


Caradoc continued to walk not too far behind his Mae. She seemed to the angel to be in a cheerful mood which made him feel as though he was floating on a cloud...
a common misconception that angels actually do that really. Despite his charge's happy mood Caradoc himself felt quite uneasy, something wasn't sitting right with him and whilst he couldn't place exactly what the source of his discomfort was he knew exactly why he felt the way he did. It seemed to Caradoc that Mae had always been dealt an unfair hand, that it was at her happiest moments when the cruel world she lived in tread on her. The only time he felt his unease go away for any great length of time was when Mae was with her grandfather, a man who wouldn't even be a part of her life much longer, in terms of an angels perception of time he had but only a moment left (remembering angels live an eternal life).
If only we could see each other, and talk to each other. I could make my Mae happy for eternity. Caradoc knew deep within that Mae didn't have eternity left like he himself did, but his mind would not allow him to conceptualize any thoughts of life without Mae, she was his life and that was all.

Caradoc continued to follow the object of his obsession throughout the streets, his unease growing with every step she took
What if someone takes her from me? It was not long after that thought that his fears began to become a reality, to Caradoc at least.
"It's good to see you, Mae." Caradoc wheeled around to see the owner of the sleazy sounding voice, the equally sleazy Mark, leaning against a lamp-post.

As Mark and Mae conversed Caradoc listened, feeling his anger and hatred for the man bubbling up within him more and more every second, the only things that prevented the angel from removing the disgusting waste of space's head from his shoulders were the rules that he had to live by and, more importantly, the horrible effect seeing Marks head twist off of his body, seemingly by itself, would have on his Mae.
I dare you, try something. Let me end your miserable existence.
 
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