• Hello everybody! We have tons of new awards for the new year that can be requested through our Awards System thanks to Antifa Lockhart! Some are limited-time awards so go claim them before they are gone forever...


Fanfiction ► H E R O E S - A New Age

Not open for further replies.


come and go
Aug 4, 2005
In the place of prayer...
This is fanfic in the style of the former television show, HEROES. Done with YOUR characters. Character list and sign up is here.. Let us begin.

Human thought is always evolving. Each generation, comes a new set of minds, a fresh new perspective, which can reinterpret the world, we live in. There are those that choose to remain content with the way things are. However, every now and then, there come those that bring revolutionary change…

Jeanette Curie
Seattle Public Library, Seattle, WA


Jeanette glanced up for a moment as the tell-tale hush whistled through small library. Her eyes darted up for a moment, the small dark orbs flicking this way and that at the noise. However, all was quiet in the library; a few scattered people walked listlessly among the bookshelves, and a couple of downturned faces remained buried in their books.

Of course, Jeanette thought to herself with a quiet sigh, It’s Friday night, who’s going to be in the library?

She shifted a bit in her seat, pushing her beret back over her dark hair. It slipped forward a bit, and annoyed, she just put it next to her, massaging her scalp with a yawn. She could feel the fatigue sinking in her eyes, and she switched to massaging her temples, she let a slight groan escape her lips.

“There’s night shift for yah” she muttered to herself, glancing at the mirror on the desk next to her, pointedly raising her eyebrows as she observed her chocolate-skinned reflection, “Couldn’t just stay home and read, eh? Had to come here and work; not like anyone’s gonna be here anyways.”


“Sorry,” she muttered, glancing up as she stood up slightly, stretching slightly as she took a look at her surroundings. She was sitting at the help desk of Seattle Library. She ran her hands over the oakwood surface of the help desk, rolling her eyes as she collapsed back into her seat with a huff.

“It’s alright,” she whispered to herself, rubbing her head again as she glanced up, making sure everyone was occupied, “Probably better to be here anyways, what with that weirdo lurking around out that people talk about. Just get through the night. You’ve got the new issue to look forward to at least.” With a quick glance around to make sure everyone was quietly occupied in their individual activities, she reached under the desk, fingers groping around in the darkness until they closed on a familiar object. “Teehee,” she giggled to herself as she eased the manga out of the darkness, “The newest one… I wonder if Kenji will admit his love for Azuka today… He is sooo smexy….”


She shut up instantly, glancing up nervously before cracking the book, eyes dropping to the spikey-haired Japanese character. She ran her fingers over the inked image with a sigh, propping her cheek on her hand as she let her eyes roll down the page. She reached into her pocket and pulled her earbuds out, slipping the white buds into her ear as she scrolled through her iPod, sliding her fingers over the touchscreen before selecting ANJI. She bopped her head slightly as a young Japanese girl appeared on the screen, dressed in a semi-questionable schoolgirl outfit.

“If only there were real superheroes, Kenji-kun… life would be so much more exciting…” she sighed aloud, only to another chorus of exasperated whispers.


Carlos Diago
Seattle, WA​

Don’t stop, make it pop, DJ blow my speakers up!

The heavy bass pounded in the dark warehouse like a drum, causing the very air to vibrate with every note. The loud music reverberated amongst the wildly dancing bodies like a wave of sheer sound. It was dark and sweaty, beads of heat hanging in the air as peopled twisted and rippled on the dance floor, the only light provided by a multicolored strobe that shot beams of laser light across the dark ocean of people. It was mindless. It was crazy. It was chaotic.

It was awesome.

Carlos Diago stood to one corner, head nodding absentmindedly to the beat as the noise beat against the walls of the warehouse. Beer in one hand, other in his pocket, he stood leaning against the wall, observing the mass of people with a grin on his face. He loved dancing, but even more watching people do it. Even the beer in his hand was mostly for show at this point; as his fingers felt the icy coolness of the open beer, he cocked his head, nodding off a bit as he felt the wave of heat and music wash over him.

Nah, no more tonight man. Buzz hitting me harder than I thought… no more…


Carlos grinned, recognizing the familiar voice through the pounding music, and turned to face the familiar figure.

“Matt, you bastard, how’s it going?” he laughed, catching his friend’s hand in a clap, as he shook a few stray black hair out of his face, “What’s up? Thought you had called it a night already?”

“Nahh, man, just had to go grab some more shit, you know,” replied Matt, grinning as he hoisted a 40 of vodka in his other hand, “The night is young, and so am I.”

“Hell yeah my man,” laughed Carlos, “Be careful though; you know what they’ve been saying about that weird guy lurking around at night.”

“Dude, you gotta relax,” said Matt with a grin, putting the alcohol down on a table and rummaging around for a shot glass, “I know what you need…”

Carlos laughed, but his face contorted a bit, a bit of awkward discomfort appearing for a moment before he managed to squash it.

“Nahh, man, I’m good I think…” he began but before he could finish, the shot glass was shoved in his hand. The flames gently reflected in Carlos’s light blue eyes, rippling and twisting on the surface of the vodka. The fire gleamed in Matt’s eyes as well, as he poured himself a shot and lit the surface with a flick of his lighter.

“Flaming shot dude, on three,” grinned Matt raising his glass to Carlos’s and leaning his head back, “One…”

“Nah man…” said Carlos, a slight hint of trepidation in his voice as he felt the glass warming beneath his fingers. His eyes glazed slightly, and he felt the alcohol he had already consumed rushing through his veins. He really shouldn’t have another one…

“Two…” Matt had his glass raised, eyes on Carlos with expectation and a grin. Carlos felt a buzz of euphoria bubble through his gut, and very subtlety, he saw the flames on his glass flicker, as if rippling excitement. The beers he had before were taking their toll; he felt great…

“Man…” he muttered half-heartedly, a grin spreading across his face as he considered the flaming shot. He really shouldn’t…


Screw it

They both downed the flaming shots in second. Carlos felt the warmth of the flame in combination with cool alcohol pouring down his throat, and he sputtered a bit as Matt laughed, slamming his glass down on the floor as he grabbed his best friend’s hand.

“Come on man, grab a girl, let’s tear it up!” he shouted above the pounding music, and Carlos wiped his mouth with a grin, nodding as he slammed his own glass down, the vodka adding to all the alcohol swimming his liver.

“Let’s rock!” he shouted, grinning as they made their way into the mob of people, the darkness swallowing them up, both of them failing to notice the tongues of fire that had begun to twist up along the sides of Carlos’s shot glass…

Tse Brown
Simon Rock Indian Reservation, Arizona​

“Teacher Brown, but why not? If the genetics technology became available…”

Tse Brown glanced up from the blackboard at the question. His brow furrowed against his dark skin. The question hung in the air like a raptor hanging above its prey, right about to strike. Tse could not help but feel a twinge of annoyance in his brow, and he slowly placed the chalk down, wiping his hands together as he turned to face his class.

“Make your case Anaba,” he said brusquely, leaning against his plain wooden desk, “I did not intend for this question to be a tangent, but you may ask it.” He strummed his thick, rough fingers on the desk, his back slumped slightly as he stared expectantly at the student in particular. Anaba swallowed a bit nervously, now the center of attention, but when the young Navajo spoke, it was with curious fortitude.

“Well, Teacher Brown, you yourself were talking about the capabilities of the human body. Genetics determines the very behavior of the human body. Even now, scientists are determining how to manipulate the growth and behavior of cells in the body. Why could we not improve the output of the human body? At the rate technology is growing, the ascent of the human is inevitabl-“

“You misunderstand my statement,” interrupted Tse, with an audible air of annoyance, and the class of twenty grew silent, their whispers dying down to silence as Tse rubbed his temples, his dark black hair rough against his smooth brown skin. He stood back up, pacing for a bit from behind the desk, before looking up, his liquid black eyes scouring the class, making eye-contact with everyone before returning to Anaba.

They do not understand… they are still so young… young and excited; how I was like that many moons ago…

“My answer was not whether it ‘could’ be done, but whether it ‘should’ be done, Anaba.” When Tse spoke, it was with a rough baritone, as rich and deep as the earth on which he stood. His students all grew quiet, ears pricking up as their teacher spoke. An air of respect had spread across the room. Tse was about to speak.

“The human body is not a machine,” started Tse, motioning with his large, rough hand to the classroom as a whole, “It is not something that can simply be upgraded at whim. It is a complex balance, developed by nature’s requirement of it.”

“But Teacher,” began Anaba, obvious excitement crossing his dark eyes, “They’ve sequenced human DNA! They know the codes, so why not simply make them better? Think of all we could do i-“

“You do not get it,” said Tse harshly, and Anaba fell quiet, the bite of Tse’s remark as sharp as a physical blow. Tse’s eyes softened slightly as the class grew stone cold, and when he spoke next, it was with quiet restrain and true care.

“The human body is in harmony with nature, my shush-yahz,” he said quietly, shifting slightly on the spot as he spoke, “It has developed as a result of evolution; this is the what the world has required us to become. Any addition, no matter how beneficial we might think it is, is unbalancing to what nature has made us. To alter oneself is to shatter ones connection to the earth… Never forget that is where you came from…” As he spoke, his eyes slowly fell to the bare earth beneath them, his feet suddenly becoming very aware of the warm soil beneath his toes. He almost never wore shoes to class anymore…

“But Teacher…” said Anaba, attempting one more time to make a point, “If we can, don’t we owe it to science to explore it?” Tse let the question wash over him, like the warm sunlight of the morning dawn.

I feel your earnestness, young one…

“You know that I encourage you to reach for the stars,” Tse said with a sigh, glancing to each of his students before returning to Anaba, “All of you. I want you to reach for the heavens, to dream big, and to achieve whatever you like in life. And yes, science is all about exploring the unknown. Science is the unraveling of nature. Of our connection to the earth.” He paused for a moment, turning around for a second to stare at the DNA strand he had drawn on the chalkboard. The intricacies were beautiful… the product of eons of connection with the earth… He turned again with a powerful look in his eyes.

“It is not what you owe to science, Anaba,” he replied firmly, locking eyes deeply with the young Navajo, as if poured his thoughts deeply into his soul, “It is what you owe to nature. Don’t sacrifice respect for ambition.” He glanced at the clock and then back at his class.

“And I’ll end on that, young ones,” he said, nodding to the door before sitting back at his desk, “You may go.”

The students slowly got up, whispering slightly among themselves as they clambered through the doorway of the small science classroom. Anaba looked at Tse with a look of hunger for a moment, as if he desired further debate, but Tse gave a curt nod, and the message was clear. Anaba nodded and turned, filing out with the others of his class as Tse leaned back into his chair with a sigh. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the earth around them, and dug his toes in a bit deeper into the dusty ground.

To be young and adventurous again… They mean well, even though they understand nothing and think they have the world at their fingertips…


Tse sighed, as the voice permeated his mental reverie.

“Aponi, not right now,” he began, opened his eyes to recognize the female Navajo before him, “I am not in the mood for debate.” The young woman was one of his brighter students; he could only anticipate another argument on the ethics of genetics. They had been arguing this point for days now…

“No, it’s not that Teacher,” she replied nervously, brushing her dark hair off her distinctive Navajo features while she extended a hand toward him, “You had a package outside.”

Tse frowned as he reached out to receive the small package. It was small, about the size of a playing card, beige in color, and clearly marked with Tse’s name and address on it. It felt rough against his hands, and with a quick glance, Tse determined there was no return address.

“Hmm, thank you Aponi,” he replied with a gentle smile and she returned it. As she turned to leave, Tse glanced down again at the package, curiously frowning as he turned it over in his hands, examining it, feeling its weight, one more time.

Hmm, no return address. Postmarked from… New York? Six months ago?? Damn it, the government cannot distribute anything in the Reservation, can they?

He reached into his drawer, rummaging around for a moment until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small silver pocketknife, slipping it under the crease of the package and snicking it open with a single swipe. Grunting, he pulled apart the packaging, tearing open the yellow paper until something fell with a small chink. Tse froze, glancing down at the small object that had fallen on his desk. Liquid black eyes narrowed as they glanced down at the small metallic object, and with a moments hesitation, he reached down and picked up the small key that had fallen on his desk.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” he murmured, feeling the cool metal in his hand, glancing at the papers he had torn up, “No letter?” He stared at the key for one moment, rubbing his rough fingers on it before sighing. He glanced up at the door for a moment, listening carefully to make sure everyone had gone. With a grunt, he tapped his foot, and with a subtle creak, the small rock that had held the door open slid forward a foot, and the door swung shot, locking automatically. Tse leaned back, pondering as he stared at the key, propping his bare feet up on the desk.

No contact for years, and he sends me the key six months ago? What the hell have you been doing, Doctor?

Lila Wrothe
Columbus, Ohio​

“And 89 cents is your change, here you go,” replied Lila meekly at the bulky man before he swiped the change with a meaty, sweaty hand.

“Thanks, sugar-tits,” he grunted disgustingly, and Lila blushed crimson, mouth open in embarrassment as the man left with his Big Mac. The heat rushed over her face, and she pushed back her blonde hair, unconsciously stroking her blue-hair streaks as a million and one thoughts ran through her mind.

Oh god, how embarrassing… I knew the eyeliner was too much. I probably look like a slut right now… maybe the colors were just too bright…

Luckily, a telltale flicker of lights interrupted her internal maelstrom of worries and insecurities. As the man left, the door clanked shut and the neon sign shifted off. Lila sighed with relief, her shoulders relaxing as the clock struck 8 pm. They were closed for the night. Lila stretched slightly, arching her back as she placed her hands on the counter, letting her eyes close as the exhaustion of the day washed over her. Her pale skin glowed slightly in the fluorescent lights above her, and she sighed, trying to ignore the sweat of the days work clinging to her clothes.

God, I need a smoke…

“Hey Lila!” The friendly voice sent waves of relief down Lila’s spine, and she turned with a soft smile to face the calming voice.

“Hey Samantha,” she said, smiling as she hugged her coworker, “Thank you SOO much for cleaning up for me tonight. I’ll need all the sleep I can get.”

“Hey, no problem hun,” replied Samantha with a smile, slipping on her apron and smoothing out the creases, “You just do your best on your interview tomorrow! You’re gonna be great!”

“I hope so,” replied Lila with a sigh, slumping slightly and tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, “I’m so nervous… what happens if I don’t get the position? What happens if I’m not good enough? What hap-“ However, Samantha cut off her tirade with a firm finger to her lips, and Lila stopped just as she began.

“Hun,” Samantha said calmly, taking Lila by the shoulders firmly, “You are a beautiful, talented woman. You are a great writer, and Modern Media will definitely see that. You’ve worked hard to get this interview; you’ve got this!” Lila felt Samantha’s optimism bubbling up inside her, like a warm spring oozing up through her feet, and she smiled, grabbing Samantha in a big hug before grabbing her coat.

“You’re right Sam! I’m so ready for this! I have gone too far to get this interview, and I won’t give it up!”

“That’s the spirit, girl,” laughed Samantha, and as Lila slipped on her coat, she laughed along with her, a huge grin spreading across her features as she made her way to the door, waving an exuberant goodbye as she left the McDonalds. Samantha chuckled to herself, slipping on a pair of gloves as she whistled in amazement. “That girl,” she whistled to herself, opening up the register as she shook her head, “Nervous as kitty one second, ready to conquer the world at the next…”

As Lila slipped into her car, she pulled out her Blackberry, flipping through it and checking the email one more time as she started the car.

“3 pm, Saturday the 21st, the Modern Media office in Los Angeles, California,” she whispered to herself, repeated the mantra in her head as she pulled away from the McDonalds parking lot, “Be prepared to discuss your admission piece and your resume. Your interviewer will be Senior Freelance Writer, Stroma Vermilion. Please be prompt. Okay…”

As she drove away, she tried desperately to hang on to that wave of happiness and optimism that had hit her at work. She hadn’t felt that secure and ready for a long time. However, the further she drove, the deeper she sunk into her normal self-esteem, which was to say, left much to be desired. Her hands felt clammy against the wheel of the car, and as she drove off into the darkness, her heart beat nervously against her chest.

“It’s just the beginning,” she whispered to herself, “Relax, it’s only the beginning…”

Last edited:


Apr 14, 2005
Love it! XD You're a really great writer, I can't believe how well you brought the characters to life! Excited for chapter 2! As for criticism...I really don't have any o_O as your skill is beyond mine, but I did notice that you slightly over-used the word "Rough" during Tse's part, but that's about it.

Also, do you mind if I add some more personal interests on Lila in the other thread? Just to flesh out the character a bit more? Just simple stuff like music taste and stuff like that.


sans 911
Oct 8, 2008
Great first chapter! :D

You have great writing, and you really made the characters come to life.
Tse's scene was my particular favorite to read. I'd like to know more about him.
Jeanette was also a very interesting character, and had a very nice intro.

I look forward to Chapter 2. :)


Notorious White Mage Captainess
Feb 14, 2008
Phantom Manor
Thank you, Tse and the others were a delight to read, and I'm wondering about that key... is it Papa Suresh?


Mar 23, 2010
Great job on the first and second! I haven't read the others, but I will!

King Sora X

Legendary Member
Mar 31, 2008
Nowhere in particular.

That was really good, and nice written. Not sure which part i love more: the part where Janette is in the library, continuously talking, Lila's low self-esteem problems, Tse's detest of extended arguments, or Carlos' "cool guy" persona.

Can't wait to see how you write Fabio :3


come and go
Aug 4, 2005
In the place of prayer...
Note: There is a fair bit of swearing in the third bit of this (Come's with writing Stroma) Ye have been warned; enjoy and comment! Be sure to tell me what you like/don't like.

Episode II

“Gray Eyes”

People have agendas. People have plans. Yet, the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray... Is it sheer misfortune? Is it pure bad luck? Or is it the intersection of a grander plan with our own personal ones? Sometimes we like to think we control our own paths... however, sometimes it seems, fate has other plans...

Henry Telsworth
Sydney, Australia

“Henry, are you ready for this? It’s a pretty big deal after all…”

“Relax Desmond, I’ve got it.”

Henry smoothed out the lapel of his expensive designer suit, catching a spare thread in his smooth coffee-toned fingers. He gave it an annoyed glance before tossing it to the side, cracking his neck with a relaxed grin. He pushed his luscious black hair back against his scalp, glancing at his cuff links in the process. They were glittering and in place. Good. Not too flashy, but definitely classy. At 6’2” with his slimming suit jacket pressing against his defined body, he radiated power. His grin revealed a set of perfect pearlescent white chompers. He could have drowned in his confidence.

Tonight’s going to be a good night…

“But sir…”

“Tell me what can go wrong Desmond,” groaned Henry Telsworth, his handsome features contorting slightly into an annoyed eye-roll, “What’s going to happen? I get out of this elevator, the whole building collapses? The proprietor of this business suddenly goes soft? Some poor gentleman blows up in New York City? Oh, I know, maybe the shareholders will suddenly lose confidence in the fastest growing stock in the American market.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t becoming Henry,” grunted Desmond, annoyed at his employer’s gusto. While Henry was the picture of glowing confidence, Desmond looked like a wreck. His pale skin was sweaty in the fluorescent light of the elevator, his suit was a little too baggy on him, hanging off his body like a jersey, and his palms were shiny with the sweat of his nervousness. He glanced down at his watch, blinking quickly as he checked the time yet again. “We’ve got two minutes…”

“Yes, like we had three minutes a minute ago,” remarked Henry dryly; glancing at the glass wall of the elevator as it suddenly became exposed to sunlight. He smiled as the sun washed over his coffee-colored skin, the golden light dancing off of his features as he admired the Sydney harbor. The ocean gleamed beneath the sunbeams, and in the distance, he could see the Sydney Opera House, it’s white sails gleaming in the brilliant afternoon sun. It was a gorgeous day in Australia, and his mood couldn’t be brighter.

You know what would go great in that harbor… a new Lucky Mart headquarters…
“I’m just saying Henry,” continued Desmond, shading his eyes with his hand as he pushed his greasy black locks out of his pale face, the bright sun hitting him in the face, “This is a big one. Just please take it seriously.”

“Don’t I always?” remarked Henry without falter, and Desmond gave him a pleading glance, but Henry ignored it, simply straightening his suit again as the elevator slowed to a halt. Henry cracked a knuckle as he straightened his dark tie one more time, brushing a bit of dust off of his shoulder as he turned around, perfectly shined shoes clicking against the marble floor as the elevator doors slid open with a chime. Desmond groaned slightly as Henry strode into the hall.

Oh hell yes

It was as if there was a moment of slow motion. As Henry walked down the marble hallway, everyone working at their desks seemed to glance up and watch. He walked with strut, the air of confidence that was only present in those with control. A few people whispered, a secretary or two giggled to each other, and even a janitor stopped mid-mop to glance at Henry Telsworth. Henry gave a subtle grin, sparing none of them a glance, yet acknowledging the room with his physical presence as he made his way down the hall. Desmond followed at a few paces, carrying a brown leather briefcase and groaning silently as Henry strode down the hallway, making his way to the very end where a single door stood. He brushed his way to the door, reaching forward and closing his hand on the silver handle, fingers feeling the cool metal as he took a single breath inward. In a fleeting moment, he opened his eyes, staring straight at the door with a maelstrom of thoughts swarming in his head. There was a single moment of falter, a single second where his overwhelming external confidence vanished…

You’ve got this Henry… Despite what Desmond may think, you do take this seriously…

And then it was back. Henry pulled open the oaken double door with a grin, swinging open the doors as he strode into the large office. The room was especially spacious, wide and circular, with a glass window view that would make an American CEO jealous. The office had a high ceiling, with some sort of glass fixture hanging above the main desk. There were scattered potted plants around the office, some of them growing quite exquisite foliage. Henry raised a dark eyebrow at the bamboo plant protruding leafily from the pot on the right, but quickly focused, turning his gaze to the main seat. The figure sitting in the prestigious leather chair stood, a portly smile on his face as he made his way from behind the desk.

“Mr. Telsworth,” said the man with a boisterous smile, laughing heartily as he extended a beefy white hand, “How are you doing this fine day?”

“Excellent Mr. Nire,” replied Henry with a smile, motioning Desmond into the room, who hurriedly scurried along the side of the curved office, “It’s a beautiful day, and I’ve got nothing to complain about. Although, it’s hard to match your accommodations here. Lovely office.”

“Why thank you kindly Mr. Telsworth,” replied Mr. Nire with a wide smile, motioning to the gorgeous harbor behind the glass window, “Sydney’s a beautiful place. I just love to show her off to potential business partners.” As the words left the portly man’s mouth, Henry’s heart rate kicked up a notch.

Business partners... smooth sailing Henry, now just ride it out…

“Please, sit down,” continued the large Mr. Nire, pointing to the black leather chair positioned at the front of his desk, and Henry nodded in thanks, smiling sincerely before motioning at Desmond hurriedly to join him. Desmond quickly bustled alongside Henry, and they both sat down as Mr. Nire sat behind his gargantuan desk.

“I’m glad to hear you’re so agreeable with my proposition Mr. Nire,” said Henry with a smile, motioning to Desmond, who quickly unlocked the briefcase and pulled a small stack of bound papers from within its dark compartment. “I am sure that our union will be a great one. Omecha Solar Branch will be a welcome addition to Lucky Mart’s allies.”

“I am agreeable,” said Mr. Nire with a smile, wiping his hands against each other with glee, “And once the investigation is done, we can proceed with the contract.” The words were spoken with friendliness and causality, but they struck Henry like a physical blow. His mind reeled for a second, wrapping around the simple statement, and he blinked once, the smile frozen on his face.

“Investigation?” he asked, forcing himself to maintain a calm exterior, “What investigation?”

“Oh it’s an informal thing,” replied Mr. Nire with a wave of his meaty hand, leaning back in his chair slightly as he smiled, “Our sister company in Japan had some misgivings about signing such a big contract right off the bat. The CEO of Yamagato Industries wanted me to do some off the record investigation of Lucky Mart before I signed anything. I told him I would. I know you are honest business man, but there were some rumors.” Nire laughed deeply, and Henry laughed along, a careful glint in his eye.

“Totally understandable,” replied Henry with his forced smile, a bit of heat rising unseen in his coffee-cream features, “I like to know the people I work with as well. What kind of rumors?”

“Oh you know the kind,” replied Mr. Nire with a dismissive wave, “Ridiculous claims. What with your past trips to Iraq, there was ridiculous speculation of Lucky Mart consorting with Al-Quaida. Haha, can you believe that? Some even went so far as to say you aided a terrorist infiltration into Americ-“ However Nire’s laugh was interrupted as Henry suddenly stood, and his portly eyes widened in surprise in fear as Henry slammed both his palms onto the desk and leaned forward, staring Nire right in the eye.

You will sign the contract,” Henry whispered menacingly, his voice all of a sudden different, as if it was layered with various tones. It seemed as if he was speaking with several voices, all layered in a sweet choir over each other, “You will call Yamagato Industries and arrange a meeting with the CEO. You will halt all investigation and report to Yamagato that your findings were negative. You will forget about this meeting and you will squash any type of rumor involving me that you hear.”

Mr. Nire’s eyes were glazed over, his mouth slightly hanging open as he nodded, and shaking, he took a pen from his desk, and quickly scrawled his signature on the first sheet of paper. Henry snatched the paper out of his hand, and tossed it to Desmond, who barely caught it, mouth hanging open as Henry promptly strode out of the room. Desmond stood frozen for a second, staring at the response less Mr. Nire before quickly coming too and rushing after Henry, who was already by the elevator by the time he caught up.

“Henry,” gasped Desmond as the elevator doors slid home behind them, “Wh-“

“Save it Desmond,” snapped Henry, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket and tapping the screen, quickly tapping along it as numbers flashed on the screen, “Don’t act so incredulous. You know as well as I do that we can’t have that kind of investigation.”

“But Henry, I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to use your uh… ‘charm’ in business deals,” pleaded Desmond, his breath still coming in short gasps as the elevator jolted to a start, “It’s too risky! And the more you use it, the greater you risk being discovered. And what was he saying about terrorists?? Did you actu- “

“Well, didn’t seem like we had a lot of options, did we?” replied Henry sardonically, and Desmond swallowed, eyes still reeling from the exertion as Henry put the phone up to his ear, “Now quiet. We’ve got to book a flight to Tokyo…”

Grant Miles
Newark, New Jersey

Candles flickered in the darkness, sending rippling shadows dancing along the stone walls. It was quiet, except for the dull crackle of burning incense. The tendrils of smoke seemed to drift along the air, like ghostly serpents weaving their way in and out of existence. The golden candles glimmered, alone on the altar, isolated in their beauty, while the darkness swallowed everything else. The large room, usually lit with brilliant light, was like a tomb; restrained and silent, as if it were afraid of producing anything louder than a whisper. The large stained glass windows were dark, the colors embalmed in ebony, and to any stranger, they looked like simple panes of black ice. It was cold in the Church...


There was a wooden slam as the doors of the cathedral swung open with a muffled thud. For a moment, the noises of the outside world poured it. Sirens whirred, a few shouts spilled into the darkness. The screech of tires on pavement However, the door swung shut again, and the noises vanishing, as if snuffed out of existence. A single shrouded figure stood in the doorway of the Church. He slowly made his way forward, footsteps echoing slightly in the empty Sanctuary. The wooden pews seemed to retreat into the darkness as he made his way down the center aisle, black robes trailing behind him like an extension of his shadow as he made his way toward the altar. The hood over his face blocked the dancing light of the candles, and yet, the faintest trace of a smile could be seen on his face.

Grant Miles gently pulled back the hood, the candelight dancing on his defined features as he glanced up to the magnificent wooden cross that was held up on the altar, his chocolate brown eyes glazing over as he opened his mind in prayer.

Father… there’s a lot going on right now… there is always much to do in the world… there are many poor people in Jersey right now… there are those that are still suffering from the suicide bombing six months ago… there is so much that can be done… and yet, why do I feel my calling is elsewhere? I cannot shake the feeling that despite all this suffering, you are drawing my attention to something I cannot see… what is it Lord? What is it that I’m meant to do here? Am I not meant to even be here?

Grant knelt for a moment, lowering himself onto one knee as his preacher robes trailed behind him, and he bent his head. He let the silence of the Church surround him, the only sound being the pulsing of his own heart… He knew this feeling well. He was lost; in the past few weeks, he had only felt a strong sense that there was something he should be doing, but was not. It was a tugging sensation, like a pull on his soul… He closed his eyes, embracing the darkness and the silence of the sanctuary, attempting to empty his thoughts as he felt the cold stone floor beneath his knees…

I’ve been here for six months now… why do I feel lost? What is missing... am I doing something wrong? Even the martial art isn’t filling me like it usually does… what’s up God? Are you trying to tell me someth-“

However, Grant’s inner thoughts were interrupted by a slight noise. Ears pricking, he stood quickly, hands sliding out from his pockets instinctively. The noise was ever so slight, the subtle sound of something tipping over. Grant’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed as a million different thoughts ran through his mind. It was like lightning racing through his brain, and in a single moment, he came to a conclusion.

Someone knocked something over back there… what’s going on?

Grant quickly made his way forward, unbuttoning the front of his robe for greater mobility as he slipped to the right of the altar, quickly stepping through a small doorway that lead to the rear of the church. His dark black robes billowed out behind him like smoke as he slipped through a small hallway, ears focused to listen for further noise. Heart pumping, he made his way quickly to the side of the Church and quietly closed his hand on the door handle. It was smooth and metal, and Grant caught his breath, prepping himself for a moment before throwing the door open with a snap.

He slid out into the alleyway on the side of the Church, the cold hitting him like a wave as he raised his hands in defense, fists closed as he glanced quickly around, looking up and down the alleyway, ears pricked for a similar sound. However, all that greeted him was the familiar choir of New Jersey: a few scattered honks, and the cool whisper of the wind.

Grant frowned, eyes flitting about the area as he gently shut the door behind him, folding his arms over his chest to keep himself warm in the cold air, glancing around a bit more in some sort of search for the source of the noise.

I know I heard something…

Grant’s eyes caught something as he turned around one final time. Chocolate brown eyes narrowed as they caught sight of an overturned bucket, lying knocked over on its side, gently rolling back and forward against the pavement of the alley. Grant stepped forward, tails of his robe caught in the wind as he righted the bucket, straightening only to catch sight of the far wall of the alleyway…

Oh God…

He muttered incoherently under his breath as he walked to the wall, eyes following the large strokes of paint that had recently been applied to the wall. The graffiti was quite large, at least six feet by four feet, and Grant could not help but whistle at the artistry, despite an annoyed feeling in his gut.

Guess I should be thankful that the teens come this close to church nowadays…

He walked up to it, shivering as he pulled his hand from his pockets and placed a single finger against the wall. He felt the paint squelch against his fingertip, and he quickly pulled away, wiping it on the wall with a faint hint of curiosity in his face.

Still wet of course… but what is this?

Observations and thoughts poured into Grant in mere seconds. The graffiti was a monochromatic color scheme. There was a shade of darkness in the background, with what seemed to be a Yin Yang symbol emblazoned in the center. The Yin Yang symbol was large and outlined in gray, with its normal black and white opposing faces. However, the interesting part lay in the center…

“Do most Yin Yang’s have a keyhole in the center?” thought Grant out loud, eyes glancing at the keyhole silhouette outlined in the center of the Yin Yang. It was a darker gray then the actual Yin Yang, and as Grant stepped back, looking at it further, he noticed something else interesting about the symbol…

“They’re eyes,” he muttered, glancing at the two halves of the circle, “The two little stroma are eyes… and is that… a face?”

The cold bit into him as he stared at the strange face. The head was undoubtedly the Yin Yang, with its eyes representing the opposite stroma of the symbol, with a keyhole where the nose should be… and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was a long wave of hair sliding down the edge of the circle…

“It’s a girl,” he muttered to himself, staring at the dark graffiti with a deep, instinctive feeling in his gut, “But… who are you?”

Stroma Vermilion
Hollywood, Nevada​

“You’re kidding me Dan.”

“Sorry Stroma, they officially called it. The killings have stopped in Wisconsin.”

“Fuckin’ A…”

Stroma massaged his temple, running his hands through his onyx black hair he swore, leaning his elbows against the desk in frustration. This was the final nail in the coffin of this story. Six months of investigation… and it all boiled down to this government cowardice…

I can’t believe they’d close the case after all this… the killer hasn’t even been caught yet, damnit! How’re they gonna fuckin’ close the case?

“And there’s no chance of them reopening it?” Stroma groaned aloud, opening his eyes to stare at his colleague, his heterochromatic eyes blinking as he stared at Dan.

“Not unless whoever it is kills again,” replied Dan, apologetically shrugging his shoulders, avoided eye contact with Stroma. The blue and hazel eyes freaked him out, not aided by Stroma’s brash personality. “Chances are you’ll have to drop it man, sorry.”

“Shit,” swore Stroma again, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, fingers clenching and unclenching in unreleased frustration, “Could things get any worse?” Dan teetered nervously on the spot at that question, and Stroma picked up on it immediately, covering his eyes in exasperation. “Please don’t tell me…”

“Sorry Stroma,” muttered Dan apologetically, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an envelope, “I came to give you this too. You’ve got an interviewee from Columbus, Ohio tomorrow. She’s flying into the L.A. headquarters. You gotta be there by tomorrow.” He winced, shoulders rising as he prepared for the oncoming tornado of rage. Stroma did not disappoint.


Stroma was standing at this point, arms thrown wide, hazel and blue eyes both ablaze with incredulity and anger, his skinny frame accentuated by the crazed look in his face and the spit flying from his lips. Dan turned his head slightly, refusing to look at Stroma as the rant reverberated around his tiny office, and likely, down the entire hall.


Dan winced again as Stroma snatched the envelope out of his hand, and quickly backed out, practically racing out the door and shutting it quietly behind him, muffling the Stroma’s roars as they reverberated around the offices of Modern Media. A few heads poked out of their cubicles at the roaring, which at this point, muffled by the doorway, sounded like small lawn mower exploding. Dan whispered apologetically, straightening his tie slightly as he gave a sheepish shrug.

“Stroma has to interview someone.”

The few heads nodded understandably and each went back to their workstations. No one wanted to be visible when Stroma opened that door again…

Back behind the door, Stroma was fuming. He had ceased his shouting finally, but had now resorted to pacing back and forth in his office. He muttered incoherently under his breath, making several angry paces around his desk before finally sitting forcibly in his chair and tearing open the envelope. He rubbed his hazel and blue eyes in annoyance as he did a quick scan of the interviewee’s resume.

“Lila Wrothe,” he muttered under his breath, glancing down a few statistics before shutting his eyes in sheer frustration, “I can’t fucking believe this… The girl works at a McDonald’s for Christ’s sake… Damn it, all I want is a glass of fucking water…”

In the darkness of his shut eyes, Stroma suddenly felt a peculiar sensation amongst his fingertips. There was a slight tingling sensation, like a small electric tickle had just gone through his hand and was now rippling around his fingers. And then suddenly, there was wetness…

Stroma’s eyes jerked open, widening in shock as he dropped the sopping envelope with disgust.

“God damn it,” he swore, wiping his sopping hands on his pants as he quickly grabbed for some tissues on the side of his desk. “Been telling them to fix the pipe above my desk leaks. But noooo, nobody’s free to fix the Senior Freelance Writer’s pipes, are they? This is bullshit.” He soaked up the water as best he could, picking up the sopping wet envelope with disgust as he tried to peel apart the pages. “Can’t even read her damn entry piece now,” he muttered to himself, tossing it to the garbage can as he grabbed the desk phone, dialing a few numbers as he tried in vain to mop up the water.

“Nancy? Yeah, my day has been pretty fucking terrible. Get me Continental Airlines… I need a plane to LA tonight.”

As he wiped up the water on his desk, swearing profusely at the gentle elevator music playing in his phone’s earpiece, he failed to look up at the ceiling, which was completely white and dry, as if water had not soaked it for months…

Zahara Keys
Miami, Florida​

“Happy birthday!!!”

As Zahara flicked the lights on, she was greeted by a wave of hollers and shouts. A golden smile lit up in her face, and she laughed, extending her arms in a warm embrace to her father, who was the first to greet her.

“Oh dad, you didn’t have to…” she laughed, pushing a lock of curly brown hair out of her face as she gave him gigantic hug, squeezing him tightly as he took her in his warm arms. His embrace was always comforting… it was warm, tight, but not painful. It was always strong, giving her comfort no matter what the situation.

“Anything for my eldest, beautiful daughter,” he replied with a smile, his gray eyes dancing with love as he held his daughter close, wrapping her in his large arms, feeling her heart beat against his, “I can imagine when I could hold you in the palm of my hand. Now, 20 years later…”

“Oh Dad, don’t cry,” laughed Zahara Keys with a smile, wiping a happy tear away from her father’s face, hand on his cheek, feeling those gentle wrinkles against her fingers as she stared up into her father’s loving face. Franklin Keys had always been a wonderful father… and although those gray hairs were undoubtedly due to her, they had a great life… “Love you dad…”

“Love you too honey,” he whispered back to her, kissing her gently on the head, before turning with a smile, waving to the room, “Everyone’s here! Cake’s coming out in a sec, so join us!” She laughed, squeezing her father one final time before making her way to the crowd. She laughed and greeting, everyone smiling at her as she made her way about the house.

“How was work Z?” asked Chelsea with a smile, greeting her older sister with a hug and a wink, “Didn’t get hit on by any old guys, did ya?”

“Oh you know, only the regulars,” replied Zahara with an eye roll, and they both laughed, hugging it out before a smaller, 15 year old figure leaped on top of them, grabbing them into a bigger hug with a laugh and a giggle.

“Are you guys talking about guys?” asked Susanna with a grin only a 15 year old could manage, “Did Z meet a cute guy at Hooters?”

“Come on Suzie,” said Zahara, laughing as she grabbed her sisters in a big hug, “Since when do cute guys come to Hooters? And since when did you start liking guys?” Suzie pouted at the slight jab at her age, and they all laughed, spinning in a slow circle as they hugged it out, the warmth and infectious laughter spreading between the sisters before Suzie pulled Chelsea away by the hand.

“Come on Chels, we gotta get the cake,” said Suzie with contagious excitement, and the two sisters raced off, laughing together. Zahara smiled deeply, and continued to make her way around, hugging aunts and uncles, everyone had come to the party. Hugs were exchanged, wellwishes given, and Zahara laughed out again as a pair of strong arms seized her from behind.

“Shouldn’t you have changed before coming to your birthday party?” a deep voice asked, a hint of mischievousness in his voice, and Zahara grinned.

“Psh, like you want that,” she laughed, turning around to hug Luke with a wink, “Thanks for coming! Its exciting turning 21!”

“Yeah, like that ever stopped us from doing anything before,” responded Luke with a grin, pushing his dirty blonde hair out of his face as he held Zahara close, “Although I suppose it’d be nice doing things on the legal side for a change.”

“But kinda takes the fun out of it, doesn’t it?” replied Zahara, giving him a sideways smile, running a single finger down his chest before pushing him away.

“Yeah, I guess so,” laughed Luke with a grin and a slight blush, “I’ll try my best to keep things entertaining.” Zahara laughed and moved on, exchanging thank you’s and hugs, all the while, entertaining this beautiful feeling in her chest. The warmth of happiness…

I love it all… sure, we’ve all got problems… but you know, right now… everything is perfect…


The roar of whoops and happiness broke through Zahara’s euphoria, and she turned with a smile to see the frosted colossus. Both Chelsea and Suzie held the cake between them, smiling broadly as they set it at the end of the long family dinner table. The crowd migrated around the table, gathering at every available seat as Zahara sat at the head, the glow of happiness evident in her face as the 21 candles lit up before her. Her sisters each gathered to one side of her, Chelsea on her left and Suzie on her right, each with a hand on her shoulder lovingly. At their touch, Zahara felt another wave of happiness, and couldn’t help but a single tear come to her eye.

Oh dammit… I can’t believe it’s all worked up to here. I’ve worked hard, got a great family, and next year, I can start life for real… College is almost done… It’s all happening… just like I want it to…

“Blow out the candles honey!”

Zahara smiled tearily, glancing up at her father, who stood at the end of the table with the camera held high, a grin on his face. He stood there, so excited, with the camera lens held at his eye level, a smile spreading across his wrinkled features. Zahara only then recognized the smile on his face… it was hers… She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the chorus of everyone wishing her to blow out the candles, telling her to make a wish… She was so happy… everyone here made her happy… everything was going as planned… she felt a euphoric sensation bubble up in her chest, like she was high on the sheer joy of life…

Zahara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the highness expand within her, until she felt like she couldn’t inhale any more… and leaning forward, lips pursed, as if kissing the very air, she let the breath go with a rush.

I wish everything would stay the same…

The heat hit her in the face immediately, and it was followed by an explosion of terrified screams. Zahara’s eyes snapped open with a start, and her mouth, still open with the breath outward, but the explosion of fire instantly blinded her forward. A huge jet of flame rocketed forward, as if shot from a jet engine, shooting out across the table and spreading quickly. There was a whooshing rush of air as the fire exploded outward, and Zahara’s own scream was muffled by that of those around her. She fell back in shock, landing in her chair, completely overwhelmed by the inferno before her. The flames leaped upward, as if propelled by wind, and quickly caught on the tablecloth. Zahara sat in shock, her face lit by the orange glow of the fire as people about her rushed about, chaos passing by her in a blur…


Zahara felt her hand grabbed, and pulled from her chair… She felt herself being dragged, slowly, as if in a dream, only barely catching various hints of what people were shouting.

“Put it out!”

“It’s getting too big, call the fire department!”

“Oh God, Frank!”

Zahara’s vision was blurry, with tears and with smoke, but she caught the last bit, her eyes opening wide, turning wildly to where the other end of the table was. She could barely make out a few figures, wildly trying to extinguish the flames licking the writhing figure on the floor…


Last edited:


Apr 14, 2005
Wow. LOVED IT. I noticed The Peter Petrelli reference, lol. Oh, AND HOW DARE YOU LEAVE IT AT A CLIFFHANGER??? Now its gonna bother me. I'm also wondering about the Yin-Yang symbol...what does it mean? Are the killings going to be part of the main plot? I honestly can't wait for more ^^

BTW, I literally lol'd when Stroma out-bursted XD! Haha *sighs* I am really not fond of the hicks here either -__-

Keep up the good work!!!


Oct 31, 2009
Brisbane, Australia.
This is great, you are a really talented writer Prophet.

Also, you know you don't have to censor yourself on khinsider? I dunno, it seemed kind of silly haha.

i await the next chapter ^.^


sans 911
Oct 8, 2008
Oh, shizit.
That's epic.

That was really, really great cliffhanger, but it was predictable, imo, what was going to happen when Zahara blew out the candles. That's mainly because I read the character descriptions beforehand, so I knew her power. Anyways, I can't wait to see how this unfolds.

"The killings have stopped in Wisconsin.”
I hope they meet.


Oct 31, 2009
Brisbane, Australia.
it was predictable, imo, what was going to happen when Zahara blew out the candles. That's mainly because I read the character descriptions beforehand, so I knew her power.

I think the predictability adds to it. Knowing what her power was, and that shit was about to go down added to the scene in my opinion.
Last edited:


come and go
Aug 4, 2005
In the place of prayer...
Episode III

“Eye of the Beholder”

There comes a time where we make decisions about what we want to do with our lives... we make choices about who we want to be and what kind of life we want to lead... however, is there not sometimes a call to something greater? A sound in the night that beckons us to something beyond ourselves? Some seem to find it everyday... others, require a bit more listening to find it...

Alleta Smith
Boston College, Massachusetts

The doors to Boston College’s main hall burst open, and the students poured out in droves. It was a river of hustle and bustle, with laughter and exuberance shining in every face. There were shouts of excitement, hollers of mischief, and grins of pure delight. This was the release of tension, the expanse of relief, and the explosion of restrained fun. The first of the exams had ended!

However, as the first wave of students piled out of the building, the raging river of excitement gave way to the last trickle of students. It was in that trickle that a single girl glanced up at the sky, pushing a strand of honey-dark hair behind her ear.

“Finally, done,” Alleta Smith whispered to herself, her relief warming her up inside instead of exploding outward like all of the other students. She shifted the weight of her backpack as she slowly walked down the stairs, other students brushing by her excitedly as a church bell somewhere rang out its afternoon chimes. The gentle tolls sang their notes through the air, and Alleta smiled to herself, letting the soft tones wash over her as a gentle breeze tickled her skin.

What a nice day… God, I want to get out... Maybe after this?

However, a small rumble in her stomach interrupted her inner reverie. She put a hand on her belly, smoothing out her plain blue t-shirt slightly as she felt a familiar push against her shoulder blades. Her eyes flashed for a moment, and she froze, breath held for a single moment as she adjusted her backpack.

Come on… not now… just wait a bit…

Alleta let her breath out with a sigh as the pushing sensation ceased, and she continued to walk forward, walking down toward the street, trying to ignore the tingling of the wind against her skin…

You know it’s that desire that makes it happen… just wait til after you eat…

Alleta’s blue-green eyes glinted in the sunlight as she stared gently into sapphire blue sky. It was perfect today… If only she had someone to share it with…

Britta’s out of town… and so are Judy and Derek… its gonna be a lonely weekend…

However, she shook her head out of this moment, smiling gently to herself as she turned a corner, glancing up at a familiar convenient store.

At least I can talk to Jamal…

She pushed open the doors to the small Lucky Mart, a single bell jangling to announce her entrance. The windows were clean and spotless today, the sun glittering off of the glass like diamonds in the sky, and Alleta quickly saw why. Smiling broadly, she walked down the side aisle, approaching the metal ladder extending to the top of the window. The squeegee slid down the glass with a familiar squelch, and Alleta couldn’t help but smile as she waved up at the intensely scrubbing figure.

“Hey Jamal!” she said with a quite smile, “Window day today?”

As she spoke, she caught a hint of a smile play on Jamal’s face as he leaned close to the glass, scrubbing a single spot vigorously, the soap splattering against his face as he registered her voice.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite regular,” Jamal replied with a smile, glancing out of the corner of his eye at her, his dark Middle-Eastern features splitting into a genuine smile before staring back at the single spot he was attempting to scrub away, “How’re you doing today Alleta? I hear the wild calls outside; does this mean your exams are over?” Alleta giggled slightly to herself, relishing the sound of his voice like chocolate to her ears. She loved the way he said her name. With the Arabic hint to it, it sounded as exotic and beautiful as a desert flower.

“Yes,” she replied, staring up at the middle aged man on the ladder, “It’s such a relief to be done with classes. You remember when we first met about six months ago? The spring exam? That was awful...”

“Ah yes… I remember it was quite an eventful day,” muttered Jamal with a grunt, pushing even harder against the glass before tossing his squeegee to the floor, quickly making his way down the ladder, before wiping his brow with a free hand, a distracted smile on his face as he caught his breath. “So what can I help you with today Alleta?”

“I need a snack,” replied Alleta with a curious shrug, “A little post-exam pick me up. What do you suggest?”

“Ah, I have just the thing for you,” said Jamal with a broad smile, “I just warmed up some of the giant pretzels. Would you enjoy one?”

“That sounds perfect,” she said with a soft smile, the warmth of Jamal’s grin flowing through her, and she quickly followed him as he made his way behind the counter of the store. Alleta watched the giant pretzels turning slowly behind the glass with a vacant look in her eyes, and Jamal glanced at her, frowning a bit curiously, his dark, angular eyebrows raising as he pressed a button to stop the pretzels turning.

“Is something on your mind Alleta?” he asked, his dark brown eyes fixating on her, a moment of concern crossing his face, “You seem most distant today…”

“Hmm?” replied Alleta absentmindedly, watching the pretzel frozen in mid-turn, glowing orange with the heated light behind the glass, “Sorry if I’m distracted; there are just some things I’m trying to figure out…”

“Ah, there is always much of that going on in school,” replied Jamal, nodding knowingly, grabbing a pair of tongs from behind the counter and gently picking up a giant pretzel from within the case, “Is it… a boy?”

“Haha, no, not really,” laughed Alleta with both amusement and a hint of melancholy, “Sometimes I wish it was that… but I’m just going through a bit of personal crisis. What I want to do… who I am… what God plans for me to do… that kind of thing.”

“Ah, the big problem then,” acknowledged Jamal with a knowing nod, placing the pretzel into a brown paper bag, “Some people spend all of their lives searching for the answers you seek.”

“I know,” replied Alleta with a sigh, rubbing her eyes slightly, “I just feel like sometimes… I don’t know, like I’m meant to be doing something… I thought maybe it had to do with my heritage, but now I’m not sure… I keep praying and going to church, but I haven’t found the answer yet…”

“Alleta,” said Jamal with a soft smile, and he reached over, placing the paper bag in her hand and closing her fingers over it gently, “You are young. Do not worry so much. Enjoy life, enjoy what Allah has given you. The answers will come to those that listen for them.” Alleta smiled, enjoying the simple touch of Jamal’s rough hands. She glanced up at his clean-cut, dark skin and felt that comforting warmth fill up inside her.

“Did you ever find it?” she asked, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the comforting touch, “The answer to the question? What God has planned for you?” She felt Jamal’s hand tense slightly for a moment, and she opened eyes curiously, only to see Jamal staring off slightly for a moment, before glancing back at her, giving a saddened smile.

“I thought I had,” he whispered, nodding slightly before giving her a small smile, “And now, I am still looking. Even as you get older Alleta, the searching never grows easier. I imagine that we both will find it… one day.”

“Thanks Jamal,” she smiled, squeezing his hand as she reached into her pocket and gave him the money she owed, “I’ll see you later. Thanks for the pretzel and for the talk…”

“Anytime my friend,” replied Jamal with a smile, waving goodbye as Alleta made her exit, walking down the center aisle with a happier stride in her step. As the bell jangled once again, her honey-dark hair slipping through those glass doors, Jamal gave a soft smile, his eyes glowing with the radiance of the young college girl.

If only I had such wisdom at that age… Fly true little one…

Fabio Lei Lombardi
Venice, Italy

“The Venice University of Fine Arts takes great pride in its wonderful facilities.”

The small group of American females followed their tour guide with hushed whispers, glancing up and pointing at the amazing architecture they were walking through. They moved together, clutching their charcoal and sketchpads close to them as they proceeded through the gargantuan halls. The walls were ancient and stone, beautifully constructed, almost fairy-tale esque, like everything in the city of Venice. Moss crept up the stone grey bricks, and the American art students could not help but gape in awe as they made their way to a large stone door. The VUFA representative gently pushed open the door, and led them into a large circular room, with a circle of chairs and desk around the center, where a large glass skylight cast its light directly into the center.

“You may take any seat, your model will join you shortly,” continued the tour guide with a smile, holding the door open as the last of the American students entered, “Your session will end in an hour. Feel free to convene in the dining hall when you are finished.” The students all nodded, whispering amongst themselves as they glanced around the room. The college girls began taking out their materials, whispering amongst themselves as they set out their sketchbooks and charcoal…

“What session is this again?” one whispered, glancing at her watch as she pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, “We’ve been drawing chubby women all day.”

“The Italian Stallion,” read another off of the syllabus, an annoyed look crossing her face, “I knew that there was a new wave of art going on here, but I didn’t think it’d be all like this. If we sketch another old guy, I might be sick.”

“Calm down over there,” replied another girl from across the circle, rolling her eyes, “Be grateful that we can back to the US from here. After the suicide bombings in Iraq, US security is tighter than ever. And come on, it’s gorgeous here, just enjoy it.”

“Shame the people don’t reflect the landscape,” muttered a brunette from the other side, and the girls laughed in tandem as the door swung open with a thud. The laughter died down quickly as a bathrobed figure entered the room. There was a slight intake of a breath as the man walked slowly towards the center, short blonde hair reflecting the golden sunlight of the skylight as he made his way to the blonde girl who had first spoken.

“Scusi,” he said deeply, his voice a rich baritone, like a choir of cymbals reverberating beneath an ocean as he took the chair next to her in his large hand, smiling at her, as she blushed scarlet.

“N-no problem,” she mumbled, eyes fixated on his sparkling green eyes, and he gave her a smile, walking towards the center of the room, placing the chair directly in the center, before placing a single leg on it, angling himself to the room for a moment. The whole room stared, completely dumbstruck, and he turned, glancing back at the blonde one for a moment, giving a quick wink before he undid the tie of the bathrobe, the cloth falling to the ground in a quiet thump. For all the silence in the room, it might’ve been a gunshot.

“Oh god…” whispered the brunette as if she couldn’t help herself, the entire room of females spellbound by the glowing Italian before them. Golden naked skin lit up by the sunlight, like he had been caught bathing in an ocean of fire. His biceps tensed as he placed his hands on his knees, his back muscles expanding as he breathed. His chest was like it had been sculpted out of gold, and the light seemed to trickle down his pecs, slipping down each individual ab of his six pack as before teasing its way down his muscular legs. Even his calves looked like rods of iron… There was absolutely no movement in the room as the American art students simply ogled unabashedly until the model chuckled with a grin.

“Please,” he replied with a deep Italian accent and an irresistible smile, “You can call me Fabio…”

Yuuka Ookiyama
Osaka, Japan​

And when I see girls look your way…

The screaming was outrageous. High pitched squeals of a million fans shook the concert hall as sparks and confetti filled the air. It was a maelstrom of energy, the raw adoration of the fans filling the air. The concert hall was huge, spanning at least a football field in length in everything direction, and still it was filled, the teenagers crowded like a flood, almost spilling onto the stage. The crowd was almost like a single entity, flowing in a mad wave around the stage, waving their hands and cellphones rabidly in the air as a single figure on stage sang out.

I know that you don’t need that fray...

The girl swung her hair black hair back, and the long ebony wave caught the firework light like a shade in the night. A roar went up from the crowd as she stepped left, swinging her hip outward with a seductive wave, a wide dark eye winking to the mob. She ran a hand down her schoolgirl uniform, the white classic Japanese skirt cutting a little shorter than most, revealing her perfect white legs, teasing the audience as she raised the microphone to her ruby red lips.

For you’ll take my hand, look in my eyes and sayyyyyy…

Yuuka Ookiyama leaned back, throwing back her head, long dark tresses falling back as she exposed her pale, slender neck arching her back as she threw the microphone forward, letting the feverish crowd scream out the chorus they obviously all knew.


“KONICHIWA OSAKA!” yelled out Yuuka, smiling an innocent, wide eyed smile, and throwing her left hand into the air with two fingers, popping the cute pose as the crowd exploded in applause and cheers. Fireworks exploded out of the sides of the stage, and Yuuka smiled and waved, walking backwards waving to the crowd as the fog machines exploded upward, showering the stage in smoke and laserlights, allowing her to walk backwards down the stairs proceeding from the stage to the underground backstage area. As the doors slowly closed behind her, the crowds noise slowly faded, as the announcer’s voice reverberated over the crowd.

“Anji! Japanese popstar of the new millennium! Brought to you by Lucky Mar-“

As the voice was cut off by the closing stage doors, Yuuka’s wide eyes narrowed in an annoyed glare, and her ruby red lips pursed into a grimace as she strode haughtily down the metallic stairs.

Finally, done

As she pushed open the stairs at the bottom, and a new wave of noise hit her. Yuuka groaned, running her painted red nails through her long luscious hair as a dozen crewmembers bustled toward her, with towels wiping a bit of sweat off her neck, repowdering her makeup, and roughly recombing her hair. She rolled her eyes as she let herself be moved over to the makeup section, a familiar grating voice greeting her as she sat.

Well done,” the commanding voice said, placing his hand on her shoulder as another one rinsed a sponge to apply makeup to her cheeks, “Anji really put on a performance out there.”

Save it, Niyagi-san,” Yuuka replied in sarcastic Japanese, forcing herself to remain still as a dozen hands prodded and pulled at her body, reapplying makeup and redoing her hair, “Is the plane back to Tokyo ready? I want to get the hell out of here.

Yuuka,” replied Niyagi roughly, the serious tone of her manager coming through, “You know we still need to record at the studio here. They wanted that to be done before we come back.”

Shit,” swore Yuuka, finally standing up as the multiple hands receded, “And you haven’t even found me a new guy singer yet? What the hell do you expect me to pull off here? The new song only works with a guy part.

I don’t know,” replied Niyagi icily, his strong Japanese features tightening as he stared down at the insolent popstar, “You’re the ‘artist,’ you figure it out.”

Not cute,” she replied, giving him a mocking smile before walking angrily away, grabbing her coat from the costume rock and throwing it on before making her way to the backstage exit, storming away from the chaos of the concert behind her, not noticing a few people coughing around her, a few even tearing up a bit, waving their hands wildly as they pinched their noses…

Screw all this…

Olivia Harrison
Los Angeles, California

The California sun was gorgeous. Golden light danced along the grassy lawn, lighting up the emerald blades like they were from a fairy-tale universe. There was barely a cloud in the sky, the sapphire blue heavens epitomizing perfection as a few cars rumbled along the streets. L.A. was relatively quiet, it was early afternoon, and most people were just getting back to their work after lunch. A gentle breeze slipped through the air, winding its way through the lawn until it wrapped around a large tree shadowing the outside lawn. At the base of the tree, a single figure sat, light blue shirt clinging to her lightly tanned skin, the breeze taking a strand of her caramel hair and tossing it over her face, covering half her face in dark shadow... She gently reached up and pushed it behind her ear, glancing up as her gray eyes glazed over, curiously observing the scenery before her.

Quiet day…

Olivia Harrison glanced down to her sketch, her pencil held loosely in her hand as she drew a few dark lines on the page, absentmindedly sliding the graphite back and forth as she stared back at her subjects. There were two people talking at a table outside, their body postures tense against the wispy breeze. Olivia gave them a curious glance, staring at them one more time before returning to her drawing, sketching the male’s hunched back.

Frustrated seems like… or tired… he obviously doesn’t want to be there…

She sketched the straight line of the female’s back, lightly shading in her hair as it fell straight along her back. She glanced for a moment at her flowing hair, noting the slight flash of a blue streak reflecting the sunlight, before filling out the rest of her clothes.

She’s nervous… obviously kind of stressed out… not a great combination…

Do you ever get tired of observing people?

Olivia froze for a second, the leaves on the tree shifting slightly, sending dancing beams of light across her face, one side lit with sun while the other shifted in darkness. Her gray eyes glazed over slightly before one focused sharply. She shifted uncomfortably at the base of the tree, looking back at the drawing pad as she continued to sketch.

Sure, ignoring me. That’s gonna get you places Olivia…

No… thought Olivia desperately, her gray eyes attempting to focus on the paper in her hand, but one of her gray eyes refused to focus, and instead glittered with a mischievous glimmer.

Come on Olivia, do you really have fun sitting here and drawing? Do you really think this is what you’re meant to do?

I like drawing! thought Olivia harshly, looking back towards the people talking, trying to capture the anger in that man’s face in her sketch, It’s what I do… what we do!

Please… You call this a life? What is this getting you? Getting us? You’ve got way more ability than this… Quit lounging in this lonely, pathetic life and go for something good!

“No!” cried out Olivia, covering her face with her hands, her sketchbook falling to the side as she curled up under the tree, the light dancing around her as she covered her ears, as if trying to block out the inner voice.

“Are you alright?”

She cracked open a gray eye, glancing around until she saw a single figure silhouetted in the sunlight. He was tall, with dark brown hair spiked up in the front. His jeans were faded, caught in the sunlight like pale clouds. He wore a single black shirt, with a faded image of a dragon emblazoned on the front. Behind his thin-rimmed glasses, lay sensitive blue eyes which peered curiously down to Olivia, and he leaned over, a look of concern across his handsome features.

“Uh… yeah, I’m fine,” she responded, shyly remaining curled up in a ball as she stared up at the guy, “Just uh… had a moment.”

“No worries,” he responded rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he grinned at her, “I was just walking down to the coffee shop and I heard you shout. Thought I’d come check it out.” Olivia smiled up at him before glancing down again, but all of a sudden she felt a gripping feel take her body. Her gray eyes widened for a moment, shutting again as if in pain before they snapped open one more time. The glazed, daydreamy expression Olivia usually had on was gone. Instead, those gray eyes glimmered with focus and mischief, and her lips curled into a grin as she stood, wiping a blade of grass off her shirt as she took the boy’s arm in hers, intertwining their fingers as she locked gray eyes with his surprised aquamarine ones.

“Mmm, coffee sounds great,” she replied with a wink, staring deeply into his blue eyes as her gray ones twinkled darkly, “You got a name cutie? How about you buy me a cup…”

“Haha, um, okay…” replied the young man, laughing a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his head as he pushed his glasses up against his nose, “I’m Mike. How about you?”

“Viva,” she replied, letting the sound roll off her tongue teasingly, “My pleasure…”

Somewhere on the outskirts of Seattle…

“Alright, here’s your stop miss…”

Darkness was becoming deeper as the taxi pulled to a short stop. The headlights of the taxi flickered slightly in the night, as it pulled to a stop, the pitter patter of gentle rain fell against the yellow hood. The cabbie grunted, pulled the parking break easily as he checked the meter.

“Alrighty, that’ll be $20.45,” he replied reaching his hand upward and holding his fingers spread, awaiting the change or credit card to be placed into his hand, “Cash or Charge?”

“Charge,” replied a sweet voice from the back of the cab, a happy sing-song voice that was tinged with tones of excitement, “Ooh, is that a ring on your finger? Whose the lucky gal?”

“Haha, oh, that’d be my Phoebe,” chuckled the cabbie, glancing at the golden ring encircling his finger, “Just got it the other day. We’re scheduled to be married in a month. I’m pretty excited for i-” However his words were interrupted by the pressure of cold metal against his throat. His eyes widened as he glanced in the rearview mirror, catching only a single flash of bright purple eyes before the knife slashed sideways, slicing into his throat as he gurgled out a last few bubbles. He fell forward, blood spilling out and splattering onto the dashboard, mirroring the gentle dripping of rainwater onto the car.

The door gently opened, and as the sky thundered, a slender leg stepped out. Blue jeans clung tightly to the feminine hip that protruded out, and lightning flashed, catching a snippet of long blonde hair in the darkness. She quickly buttoned up her top, reaching into the cab and pulling out an umbrella, opening it quickly as the rain began to pour harder. The cab lights were still on, and the shone out into the night, overlooking the hill stood right before the entrance to Seattle. The figure walked forward, standing on the edge of the hill, looking down at the gently sleeping Seattle… A flash of lightning bolted again, and they lit up her face for a moment… and a pair of deep purple eyes stared down into Seattle…

Last edited:


Oct 31, 2009
Brisbane, Australia.
waa! this is the best chapter yet. lovin' it, keep up the good work Prophet :)

I have to say, I laughed out loud during Fabio's part, and also, you got Yuuka's character just right :3 *gwee*
Not open for further replies.