• 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...
Episode IV
“Feuds of Fate”​

Carlos Diago
Seattle, Washington

So drunkkkkkkkk

Carlos stumbled out of the warehouse, dropping a solo cup to the ground as he leaned against the wall. He blinked heavily, glanced down as the world swam before him.

Haha, everything is spinnnnyyy haha… oh god, that last shot killed me…

Carlos pushed off the wall and began to wobble forward, stumbling forward down the sidewalk as he dragged his feet along the pavement. The darkness had fallen, and it was really late. Or really early? To be honest, Carlos really couldn’t tell at the moment.

Just get homeee…. It’s not that far, just make it downtown…

As Carlos wandered down the sidewalk, footsteps mocking his reverberating cranium, the clouds parted slightly, silver moonlight catching their contours and illuminating the lone figure wandering down the Seattle streets. Carlos whistled to himself drunkenly, skipping slightly as the alcohol boiled around in his bloodstream. He blinked a few times, watching the shadows of the night bend before him, and he shook his head, attempting to focus as he walked down the dark sidewalk. He stumbled forward, chuckling to himself as his shadow danced about in the moonlight with him. He was alone…

Pat pat pat…

Carlos froze for a moment, eyes widening as he glanced wildly around, drunken haze clouding his judgment and perception. Were those other footsteps? Did he here something moving around him. He continued forward slowly, drunkenly trying to focus on listening as he curled his hands into fists. If someone was out here, he wasn’t going down without a fight… Carlos slowly turned the corner, making his way into the denser area of downtown… buildings grew closer… shadows grew longer… Carlos could feel his heart pounding as much as his head now, and he vainly struggled to maintain focus as the world swam before him. His vision rippled as his ears prickled, trying in vain to focus on what was happening around him… His foot hit the sidewalk as he glanced sideways into a dark alleyway to his right…

Pat pat pat…

Footsteps… right…

Carlos barely registered the footsteps, his heart racing like a horse as he reacted wildly, throwing his right hand sideways as he spun away from the alley, his fingers spread as he pinwheeled away from the darkness. The darkness lit up like an instant sunrise as a jet of flame tore from Carlos’ hand. The ball of fire spat down the dark alleyway, lighting up the sides like a halo of light shooting down the darkness. Carlos widened his eyes, staring hazily down into the darkness, watching his fireball shoot down the alleyway like a comet before smashing into a brick wall with a whoosh of flame and soot. For a moment, the alley was lit up like dawn, and Carlos caught a shadowy outline at the end of the alleyway. His eyes widened as he caught the flash of a pair of eyes before the shadow vanished, disappearing down another alleyway.

“Ohhh hellll noooo,” he shouted, words slurred as he abruptly ran forward, blood boiling with adrenaline and alcohol as he opened his right palm. His face lit up, every pale feature lit with drunken drive as the fireball lit up in his hand like a lantern. Shadows danced along the walls as Carlos ran forward, slightly off kilter, after the mysterious figure, flames flickering brightly in his palm.

Tse Brown
Simon Rock Indian Reservation, Indiana

Flames flickered brightly as Tse brought his lighter up to his mouth, lighting the cigarette with a few small puffs before drawing a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the tobacco run through him. He coughed slightly, running a hand through his dark hair as he walked through the chilly Reservation grounds. It was dark now and barely anybody was out. He simply strolled, relishing the feeling of the earth against feet. The rough soil was calming, gently embracing his soles, as if it was welcoming him back into the dirt. Tse took another drag from the cigarette, his brown overcoat wrapped tightly against his body as he made his way to his small house. It was humble, quiet, one of the better ones on the Reservation these days… After a long day of teaching, there was much he needed to sort out…

The key…

Tse tapped the ash off of his cigarette, grinding it slightly into the dirt, and pushed open the door to his small dwelling. He grunted as the insulated warmth hit him, a wave of comfort. He put his cigarette down in an ashtray by the door, removing his coat as slipping it on the door. He paused for a moment, brown eyes glazed over in thought, and turned around again. A strange sliding sound met his ears as he slid the bolt over his door, locking it tight.

My students may be confused… I never lock my door… however, this doesn’t pertain to the Tse that they know…

Tse groaned, taking his cigarette up again and closing his lips around it, walking forward to small corner of his dwelling. Beside the iron cast wood stove, was a bit of dusty floor uncovered by rug. Tse knelt, his large, rough hands slipping into the knot-hole of one of the floorboards, giving it a slight tug. It came free rather easily, and Tse put it aside, brown eyes staring at the patch of earth revealed beneath the floorboard. He brushed his palms against each slightly, heart beating as he glanced back at the locked door. He didn’t move for a moment, hands frozen above the small patch of earth… But there was only silence, and Tse breathed easily again, turning his attention back to the ground. His fingers twitched slightly as he brought them a quarter inch higher. The earth trembled slightly, and the soil parted, shifting amongst itself as something silver beneath it rose to the surface. Tse reached down, hands closing around a metallic box as he pulled it from its hiding place in the earth, gently replacing the floorboard before standing.

My past in a box… huh…

Tse let a warm puff of smoke billow from his mouth, dark eyebrows tensing slightly as he sat in his comfortable armchair. The softness of the fabric embraced him, and he allowed himself to sink into it, breathing out a sigh of comfort before gently opening the box. The Navajo’s features creased slightly as the papers, newspaper clippings, and items stared up at him. This was his career before his teaching… a lifetime ago…

What a different man I was back then…

Tse let his calloused and dusty fingers run over the papers and clippings, a few headlines jumping out at him while he searched for the letter he sought. He dug through the scraps, headlines reading “Geneticists pursue next steps in human evolution…” and “Funding cut to ‘fringe science’” falling under his gaze. His heart beat with a tinge of angry fire, and he turned his eyes to looking for the specific piece.

“There you are,” he muttered fingers closing on a small sheet of paper; one faded and folded many times over. He unfolded the sheet, faded black scribbles meeting his gaze as he read the letter once again.


I hope this letter finds you in good health. I know we had our differences, and after the funding was cut, I know things could have been better between us. You were right to be upset; after all, they did just cut us loose in the dark. However, I implore you to consider returning. I’ve got a new idea; it involves a modification on your last suggestion. I think we might be able to get something tangible this time. I know we had our differences in belief, but I think I’m about to have a breakthrough. Please, let me know. I want you to be a part of this Tse. You of all people should want to find the others...

Please think about it,

Doctor –“

But Tse could not even finish reading it. He folded it up and tossed it back into the box, a look of annoyance on his face.

Did he really think that this would bring me back onboard? Did he really think an apology letter was going to change my beliefs? That his regret was going to make me change my mind about what I am willing to do?

Tse took an angry puff of the cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs just as the bitterness now filled his heart. He had wanted to stay on the project!

“Some people just don’t understand boundaries,” he muttered aloud, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small key, staring at it glittering in the light of his cigarette butt, “You know why I left, and why I didn’t respond to that letter. So why send me the key after all this time?” Only silence and the scent of tobacco answered his inquiries, and his voice echoed slightly in the room, mocking his confusion… Tse took another puff, letting the smoke hiss out of his nose as he ran his fingers over the old silver key. He felt its edges, its contours, its metallic teeth… he knew this key very well…


The sudden knock on his door shook him from his smokey reverie. His eyes widened and he slipped the key into his pocket, quickly sliding the metal box underneath the armchair as he stood. He lumbered as quietly as he could towards the door, breath caught in his throat as he glanced through the peephole.


Tse breathed a smoky sigh of relief and unbolted the door, opening it wide to see his young high school student standing before him. Her long black hair was tied up out of her face now, and her young Navajo features were ripe with curiosity. Her dark eyes widened in surprise as she looked from the door to Tse’s face.

“You don’t usually lock your door, Teacher,” she said bluntly, with obvious surprise at the sound of the sliding bolt, “Are you not seeing people tonight?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” replied Tse, rubbing his eyes in slight stressful exhaustion, forcing the tenseness and anger to leave his body as he tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette, “I just wanted… a little privacy tonight, that’s all. Did you need something?”

“Yes Teacher,” she replied respectfully, her hands folded across her chest with a shiver, “I just found out today that my half-brother is having trouble returning to the States, what with the new security measures and all. I just wanted someone to talk to…”

Ah, that’s right… Aponi’s brother is off on Navajo scholarship in Israel… been six months since the suicide bombings, and its still damn difficult to back to the States…

“Walk with me Aponi,” he replied, nodding as he shut the door behind himself, “I need to drop by a notice to the school board anyways.”

“Are you taking leave, Tse?” asked Aponi with a start, and Tse could not help but smile with affection for his student. Her concern was evident, and her use of his first name suggested her subconscious momentary panic. Tse was proud; his students were perceptive and sincere…

She’ll grow wise…

“Yes, for a short time, I think,” replied Tse smiling fondly at Aponi, as he wriggled his toes in the cold earth, the silver key pressing tightly against his skin, “I have business in New York…”

Lila Wrothe
Los Angeles, California

3:11 PM…

Lila checked her watch again nervously. This was the third time she had checked it, and she was sure she was right. She had double checked the email on her Blackberry. Sure enough, it had said 3:00 pm.

Calm down Lila… you went to the front desk twenty minutes ago and they told you to wait out here… you’ve done all you are supposed to do… just where is this guy?

She glanced down at the picnic table, making sure all her papers were in order and in neat stacks on the table. She readjusted her resume one more time, smoothing out the manila folder and easing out the creases on her dress. She pushed the blue streaks out of her hair, adjusting her bun as she breathed deeply, attempting to find some form of confidence in her organization. But it was just not there… Her heart thumped like a rabbit in her body, and she wiped her palms on her sides as she glanced at the watch again…

3:12 PM…

However, her stress was interrupted by a loud bang by the front of the Modern Media building. She glanced up, throat closing with nervousness as a slim figure threw opent he door with a slam, a fresh suit covering his body, and onyx black hair slicked back in a smooth manner.

Oh God, that must be him… everything about him says ‘Modern Media’ … I bet he’s really cool and composed... Quick, must make a good impression…

“Good morning,” she greeted with a smile standing and offering her hand to the man who walked briskly toward her, “I’m Lila Wrothe, it’s a pleasure to meet you…” The man glanced at her, a look of annoyance crossing his face, and Lila instantly noted that his eyes were two different colors. A single blue orb penetrated her, staring her down as the hazel one matched its ferocious glare. Despite their different colors, Lila could tell they both held the same expression. Annoyance. Her heart shrunk in her chest.

“Stroma,” the man replied testily, his voice matching the tone of his gaze, shaking her hand quickly and sitting down, “And it’s the afternoon…”

“Ah… that it is,” replied Lila awkwardly; trying to smile at him, but all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t do this… This was going to be awful…

This is going to be awful, thought Stroma, rubbing his temples as he sat down, staring at the woman sitting nervously across from him, She’s a complete wreck. I can’t believe I flew all this way to interview someone who’s gonna crumble as soon as I look at them. How’s she gonna get anything done in the workforce? How’s she gonna get any story? And why the hell does she have blue streaks in her hair? He took a deep breath, trying to calm his frustration as he glanced at all the papers in front of her. They were organized very neatly, and Stroma couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

At least one of us is ready…

“So, uh, Ms. Wrothe,” he said, glancing at her before reaching into his bag and pulling out a small stack of papers, “You’d like to come work for Modern Media, huh? Why us?”

“Well Mr. Vermilion,” Lila replied quickly, folding her hands in her lap and trying to match Stroma’s intimidating glare, “I’ve been interested in journalism for a long time. I’m very interested in current events and what people are thinking nowadays. Modern Media is very involved with those kinds of stories.”

“Mhmm,” replied Stroma automatically, gazing down at the stapled papers he held in his hand. They were all completely blank of course, as his copies of her credentials lay in a sopping wet ball back in a wastepaper basket in Nevada, “I’m looking at your credentials here. You wanna defend to me some of your experience here? Why do you think you’d be a good asset to us?”

“Well, I’ve written a few articles before,” replied Lila, nervously pointing to a few files on the table, “All on modern pop culture events. I had a piece published a while in TMZeeny, and-“

“Mhmm, mhmm,” responded Stroma as she listed off each article travelling down the invisible list he was pretending were on his blank pages, “Well that’s all fine and good Ms. Wrothe, but it’s all bullshit.” The words hit Lila like a train, and she stumbled back slightly, her head drawing backward in more shock than actual insult.

“Pardon me?” she replied, a bit meekly, and Stroma let out a groan, standing up as he threw the pages back into his bag.

“That’s about as good to me as shoveling shit when I want you to dig for gold,” he snapped, blue and hazel eyes glaring at her with annoyance, “I can’t use someone like you. Nobody can…” Every word struck Lila like a physical blow, and she cowered in her seat, esteem taking every word that Stroma threw at her. She felt her throat begin to close and tears began t glisten in her eyes.

“Please,” she said hoarsely, standing as a begging look took over her face, “Just tell me what you’re looking for and I can do i-“

“No, you tell me something,” shouted Stroma, his face livid now, arms spread as his voice raised in crescendo, with Lila cowering beneath his gaze, “WHY SHOULD I DO ANYTHING FOR YOU? WHY SHOULD I PUT IN A GOOD WORD FOR YOU? YOU’RE JUST A CRYING, INSECURE, INEXPERIENCED, GIRL. Why should I-:

“I’LL TELL YOU WHY!” bellowed Lila, walking right over to him and standing directly in front of him. Stroma’s mismatched eyes widened as this teary-eyed, blue-streaked woman stood up against him. Her face was mere inches from his, and he stood silent, staring down at the woman shouting into his face.

“I’VE WORKED MY ASS OFF TO GET HERE,” Lila screamed, her voice alive with rage and frustration. A torrent of emotion was boiling through her, one she had never felt before… pure unadulterated anger. Irateness at the indignation of it all. Frustration at the lack of interest this man seemed to have in her. Built up wrath that seemed to pour out of her like an endless river. “I AM HARD-WORKING AND DEDICATED TO WRITING. I JUST NEED A BREAK HERE. I LOVE WRITING, AND THIS IS MY DREAM. AND I’M NOT GONNA LET YOU, OR ANY OTHER ASSHOLE STAND IN MY WAY JUST BECAUSE THEY HAD A BAD DAY!”

Her last syllable smacked Stroma in the face like a shotgun blast, and they both stood there, immobile. Lila breathed heavily, eyes still wet with tears staring up at Stroma, who stood frozen, face still caught in a look between surprise and anger. They stood there, unmoving, completely alone in the grassy area besides a boy and a girl off by the tree a bit aways. The girl laughed, mentioning something about coffee, and at the same time, Stroma’s phone went off.

The tension broke somewhat awkwardly. Stroma stepped back, not saying a word and lifting the phone to his ear. Lila stepped back as well, her eyes frozen for a moment, almost in shock at what had just happened. She turned away from him, hand over her mouth, as a million thoughts ran through her head.

Oh my god… Lila what have you done? Can’t you control yourself?? He’s never going to give me the job now… Oh my God... it’s over… it’s over…

“Alright Wrothe, listen up.” The voice sounded surprisingly calm. Lila turned slowly, wiping her eyes slightly as she looked at her interviewer. He had flipped the phone closed, and his face no was longer livid. Those two different colored eyes glowed with a sense of triumph, and… was he impressed? She snapped to attention as he slipped the phone into his pocket, and picked up his bag. “I’m willing to give you a trial run here. I’ve just got a call about an article I’m writing, and I could use an extra hand. You want this job?”

“M-more then anything,” she replied out of breath, and Stroma nodded, turning around abruptly and heading back to the Modern Media building.

“Then don’t unpack tonight,” he called back to her, motioning her to follow as she hurriedly gathered her papers together, “If you’ve got plans, I’d cancel them. We’ve got a date in Seattle.”

Jeanette Curie
Seattle, Washington

Jeanette closed the library door with a light thud, the large wooden doors clicking locked as she turned the key with a solemn thunk. She gave a light sigh as she slippsed the key into her pocket, adjusted the beret on her head as she hugged her body tightly, walking down the large stone steps of the library. The cold briskness was latching onto her like a snake, and she shivered as she made her way into the darkness. She glanced up at the full moon, a sigh of boredom escaping her lips as she clutched her bag to her body closely.

End of another boring night…


A glint of orange caught her eye. She turned slightly, ebony skin glinting in the moonlight as she turned. She could’ve sworn she had saw something. A slight glow coming from the darkness of the alley beside her. She shivered slightly, peering forward, eyes squinting as she stared down into the alleyway. The moonlight cast an eerie light on her, and she suddenly realized how alone she was…

Pat pat pat…

A figure bowled out of the alleyway and Jeanette let out a scream. The figure turned with a start, eyes catching her mere moments before knocking her off her feet. They both fell to the ground with a thud, and Jeanette curled up in fear, watching the figure struggle to his feet, staring down at her for a moment before reaching a hand down toward her. She curled tighter into the fetal position, and the figure glanced back towards that alleyway, the moonlight illuminating a worried look on his face. For a moment, Jeanette breathed out, eyes widening as his hair slightly blew in the moonlight… like a stoic warrior out of one of her manga…

“Gotcha now, ya bastardddd.” Jeanette turned her gaze towards the alleyways, orange flames reflecting in her orbs as another figure joined them, a single ball of fire burning in his hand. Her eyes widened, open in shock as the open ball of flame rippled and curled in his fingers. Her heart beat faster in her chest as the figure stumbled forward, trying to catch himself, before pointing his hand towards them. There was some sort of mumble, unintelligible in the cold air, but her eyes widened as a jet of flame shot toward them. Fiery heat struck her face, and she shut her eyes, curling up tighter as orange light filled her vision….


There was a blast of cold, and Jeanette’s eyes flew open. The first figure stood in front of her, both hands raised and a determined look on his face. Moonlight caught his tight features as cold air rushed past them, blasting forward into the torrent of flame as he redirected the flames with a gust of air. The figure with the flames yelled in confusion, and Jeanette watched the figure in front of her crumple backwards as he was hit with the blast of air. He fell to the ground, unconscious as he hit the cement, and Jeanette slowly breathed, willing her heart to slow as the air stilled once more. The second figure, still standing, was breathing slightly heavily, and turned to glance at Jeanette. She froze, not knowing what to do, but the figure simply reached down to offer her a hand again. She did not move at first, but eventually, extended her fingers to him.

“W-who are you?” she whispered hoarsely, glancing from him to the unconscious man on the ground in front of them, soot caking his now normal hands. The awake figure did not answer at first, simply staring at the unconscious guy before turning back to stare Jeanette right in the eyes. His answer was simple and quiet, and Jeanette had to strain to hear it against the slight breeze in the air.


Last edited:


Notorious White Mage Captainess
Feb 14, 2008
Phantom Manor
Wonderful job again with Tse. I really feel for him (And the other parts were good too, I'm just biased)

King Sora X

Legendary Member
Mar 31, 2008
Nowhere in particular.
Boy that was a good chapter. Loved how Lila just boasted up.

Also, back to Ch3, you got Fabio's character perfectly. Great job :)

Can't wait for next chapter ;D


Apr 14, 2005
*hasn't been on for awhile* HOLY SHIT! Those latest 2 chapters were amazing! I love how the parts kind of merge into each other (Olivia/Lila & Stroma scenes) and the end of 3 was epic! I'm assuming she's the big bad XD. I loved the Lila/Stroma scenes as well, you captured her personality and ability (in my mind) perfectly! I am also curious about Tse's key...and Lucky Mart seems to have a connection...God, i'm already drawing conclusions, I can already tell the finale will be epic. You are a fantastic writer and I hope you work on some originals to be published (After this, of course :p ) Oh and I noticed the last time you published a chapter....YOU BETTER NOT GIVE UP ON THIS DAMMIT! Cant wait for next chapter!

Meh...kinda hyper...blame caffeine....


come and go
Aug 4, 2005
In the place of prayer...
Here we go, finally. Short episode, a bit rushed, this one is a bit of a transition episode. I hope you enjoy it anyways, I may go back in later to edit it a bit. But here are the bare bones of it.

Episode V
“Kings and Prophets”

Henry Telsworth
Venice, Italy​

“Agh, alright, I’ll take care of it. Thanks Jerry.”

Henry tapped the screen of his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He leaned forward, hands on his head, rubbing his temples with the same beat as the waves brushing up against the gondola. His head was throbbing, and despite the beautiful scenery passing him by, he couldn’t take notice of it now. There was too much at stake.

“It’s too widespread,” he grunted, looking up and nodding at Desmond, who sat on the other end of the gondola, pale face contrasting with the brilliance of Venice, “I can’t contain it on my own. Somehow, the rumor’s been circulating for a while. I can’t shut it down by myself… “

“Why not just let the investigation happen, Henry?” replied Desmond, looking a bit motion sick as he clung to the edge of the gondola, “I mean, we can bury the skeletons deeper into the closet, we can deal with the things we need to hide. As long as you didn’t actually of course-“

“Yeah,” replied Henry wryly, glancing up at the magnificent architecture of Venice, seemingly seeing right through the beauty of it, “If I didn’t, we’re gold…” Desmond opened his mouth, but wisely chose to shut it as the gondola hit the dock with a solemn thud. Henry hopped out without a glance at the gondolier, and he smoothed out his suit as Desmond struggled to tip the gondolier. Henry began to stride down the long Venice Street as Desmond hurried up behind him, gasping slightly as he caught up with his employer.

“H-henry,” he wheezed, catching his breath as he smoothed out his own suit, “Why are we here again? We need to be getting back to your headquarters. Your business needs your attention, we can deal with this problem from there.”

“I need some help,” replied Henry, uncharacteristically genuine, and a look of surprise crossed Desmond’s face, “And advice. It’s time to visit an old friend.” Desmond shut his mouth, not arguing any further as they crossed the old Venetian street and turned a corner.

Desmond’s mouth dropped as the beautiful Villa came into sight. It wasn’t huge as in most Villa’s he’d seen, but it was magnificent nonetheless. The Venetian Villa was the size of a large house, with beautiful golden gates and ancient stonewalls. Desmond could not help but whistle in awe. Henry strode right up to the golden gate, emblazoned with the initials L.L. in wonderful golden script, and pressed the intercom on the side. A voiced buzzed out immediately.


“Henry Telsworth,” replied Henry in perfect Italian accent, Desmond again looking surprised, “Sono preveduto.” There was a moment of quiet, and the gates slowly swung open. Henry strode in purposefully, and Desmond quickly followed suit as the gates slowly swung back shut behind them.

Henry strode straight through villa while Desmond could not help but open his mouth in amazement. The garden was beautiful. Tall, emerald plants blossomed around the small paradise, and Desmond wiped his face, completely in awe at the greenery around him.

“Desmond!” Desmond snapped back to reality and raced over to Henry. Henry turned to him, eyes locking with his assistant and stopping him in his tracks.

“Desmond, I’m about to have a personal conversation. That means you need to get lost,” Henry said, his gaze serious, “Go occupy yourself in the garden.”

“But Henry,” replied Desmond, protesting, “I really should be with y-“

“Desmond,” said Henry, his voice suddenly rising, layered with a hundred angelic voices, “Leave.” Desmond turned without a word, wandering off into the garden, and Henry sighed, running his hands back along his scalp. Then, a smile crossed his face as a familiar voice caught his ear.

“Henry Telsworth!”

“Signore Lei Lombardi!” Henry turned around and smiled broadly as the large Italian man approached him. The man was quite big, standing at 6’2” with a broad chest and hands the size of dinner plates. He was a goliath compared to Henry, and yet he took his hand in the gentlest of grasps.

“Henry, mio amico,” Signore said in a booming Italian accent, “How are you? It has been far too long.”

“Si, vecchio amico,” replied Henry with a smile on his face, clasping the giant’s hand in his, “How is your son?”

“Bah, bored as ever,” waved Signore with a grin, leading Henry to a small table in the midst of the garden, “He needs to get off this rock. Unfortunately, my connections don’t extend beyond the borders of fair Italy. This bambino wants to go to Japan. Japan I tell you! What he wants to do there, I have no idea. Anyways, sit, sit.”

Henry sat down in a fine garden chair as Signore took the seat opposite from him. He snapped his fingers, and instantly, a small crew of chefs appears. Henry’s eyes widen as the chefs lay out a small platter of fruit and cheese, and instantly, a small crystalline wine glass is placed in front of him, sparkling golden liquid filling it before he even registered the bottle.

“Impressive,” Henry remarked sincerely, as the chefs disappeared again into the garden, “You’ve done well for yourself, datore.”

“I should say the same to you, linguetta d’argento,” replied Signore with a grin, taking a small pear in his massive fingers and popping it in his mouth, “I’ve been keeping up with my current events. Lucky Mart has been rising to the top of the global market. Good for you, mio amico!”

“Cheers,” smiled Henry, and they clinked glasses, taking a sip of the champagne, “Although I’m afraid to say, amico, there is trouble in paradise.”

“Hmm? What ails you, Henry?” asked Signore, a crease on his brow, “What trouble have you gotten yourself into?” Henry did not reply for a moment, simply swirling the champagne in his glass before taking another sip.

“I… I did something rash,” said Henry, slowly, placing his glass down and staring at the emerald greenery around him, “I was in a bad situation six months ago, and I repaid a powerful debt. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and I thought I had taken care of every angle, but it appears to have leaked out somehow.”

“What sort of debt are we talking about, amico?” asked Signore thoughtfully, leaning forward to look into Henry’s face, “Did you bribe someone? Someone bail you out? Blackmail?”

“Someone saved my life,” whispered Henry, softly, and Signore sat back in his seat, taking a sip of the champagne as he watched Henry continue, “It was six months ago, during my business venture in Middle East. He saved my life… and so I saved his.”

“Linguetta d’argento, you are not making any sense,” replied Signore with a frown, “Who is this? Why is it a big deal? What have you done?”

“I can’t explain it all, amico,” said Henry quietly as he placed the champagne down, and looked Signore in the eyes, “But trust me when I ask for this favor. I need you to use your influence. Quell whatever rumors there are about me. I’m trying to take care of things at my end, but it’s too widespread. I need help.” Signore looked at Henry for a second, frowning, staring deep into his eyes.

“I believe you,” he said finally, leaning back and taking another pear, “I trust you, amico, I have for a long time. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Grazie, amico,” breathed Henry with relief, reaching over and shaking Signore’s hand firmly, “I am in debt to you.”

“Bahh,” waved Signore again, grinning slightly as he dismissed it, “It’s nothing. I’ll probably call on you for a favor one day, linguetta d’argento.” Henry pondered for a minute, and then snapped his fingers.

“I’ve got an idea. I’ve got lots of connections in Japan. You say your son is bored? How about I hook him up with a trip to Japan?” Signore’s eyes widened.

“Amico! That’d be amazing! Fabio has been wanting to go for ages. Can you get him on… mio dio, what’s that show called? Sasuke? Ninja warrior?”

“Amico, I could get him his own manga series if you keep bringing out this champagne,” laughed Henry with a grin as he stood, “You don’t call me linguetta d’argento for nothing.”

“Indeed I don’t,” laughed Signore as they stood and grasped hands, “Please, be careful out there. I will do my best to quell these dark words, but you know human nature. Bad news has a way of spreading… especially if the root of them is true.”

“Do your best,” said Henry, shaking Signore’s hand firmly, “and give Fabio my regards. I’ll call soon with the information about Japan.”

“Grazie, amico,” smiled Signore, “Good luck.”

Grant Clarence
Newark, New Jersey

Grant sat at his desk, his office dark except for a single desklight shining on the Bible open on the tabletop. He rubbed his eyes, yawing slightly as he glanced at the digital clock on his desk.

“12:35,” he muttered, scratching out a few notes on the notepad beside him as he scanned the Bible again, “Better finish up. It’s getting late.” He yawned, tiredly flipping through the worn pages of the Bible until his eyes lit on a singular passage. “When there is a prophet among you, I will reveal myself to them in visions; I will speak to them in dreams… Numbers 12:5-7. Hmm…” he scratched a note on the pad beside him. He yawned again, placing the pen down, and leaning on his hands for a bit, running his hands through his black hair.

“Prophets,” he muttered, falling against the Bible as exhaustion clouded his mind, “Revealed through visions… been a long time since prophets… were around…”


Grant shifted on his deck, sleeping on his arm as blackness slowly took his vision.


Grant’s eyes flickered as the faded light on his clock began to swim away into blackness.


Grant’s eyes snapped open as the cold hit him in the face. He shot up, eyes looking at the window. The glass tinkled on the floor as his eyes leaped from broken window to the brick toppling to the ground. A burst of adrenaline shot through his veins as he leaped up, lunging to the window, and throwing it open with a flourish. The glass crinkled slightly beneath his shoes. Grant glanced down, his eyes widening as he stared into the alleyway.

“Lord almighty…” he muttered softly, staring down at the alleyway below him, “Who are you?”

Beneath him lay a massive graffiti spread. The paint ran fresh down the sides of the church and across the alleyway walk. Grant simply breathed in, staring at the disturbing image beneath him. The red’s were crimson and deep, and it gave off the impression that that the church itself was bleeding. Grant couldn’t do tear his eyes away as he stared at the graven image below him.

“The Statue of Liberty,” he whispered, staring at the image of the emerald Lady bleeding from various orifices and flames of scarlet licking her dress… “Another one…”

Zahara Keys
Miami, Florida​

Zahara sat with her head in her hands. Chelsea rubbed her back in support, tears in her eyes as they sat outside the ICU. Hospital aids bustled around them, and Zahara swallowed, looking at the clock. It was 12:35. Just past midnight. Tears filled her eyes again as she held her sister close, the only sounds being the hustle and bustle of the hospital staff around them. However, a few footsteps pit patted toward them, and Zahara and Chelsea looked up to see a figure coming toward them.

“Uncle Zachary,” whispered Zahara with a swallow and a choke in her throat, “Is he…”

“He’s going to be okay,” smiled the tall man with relief, hugging the two girls as a world of tension released from the group, “They’re working on him now, but he’ll live.”

“Oh my god,” cried Chelsea, hugging them close, “Thank you! Do they know what happened?”

“They’re theorizing gas leak,” replied Uncle Zachary, sitting down next to them, “It’s hard to tell. They’ll come check the house later today.”

“Good… good…” said Zahara, standing up, wiping the tears from her eyes, “I need to use the bathroom.” Chelsea nodded, hugging close to Uncle Zachary as Zahara left, making her way through the hospital staff to the bathroom. She felt her heart beating quickly in her chest, and she quickly entered the door and locked it behind her. Tears pooled up in her eyes again as she slid against the door and hit the floor, sobs wracking her chest. The relief that her father was going to be okay hit her well. However, there was a nagging emotion that clawed at her heart.

Dad's okay... but... why do I feel like I am responsible?



Notorious White Mage Captainess
Feb 14, 2008
Phantom Manor
Ooh, it's a quiet chapter (no Alleta or Tse though....) but I'm sure it'll build up. THanks.


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


Alleta Smith

The sky was gorgeous. Sapphire blue, stretching for as far as the eye could see. Alleta breathed deep as the crisp air battered at her lungs. Most lungs would crumble at this altitude. But not Alleta’s. They were elated. Alleta shot through the clouds, giggling with glee s the water droplets tantalized her skin. She felt the moisture tickle her skin through her clothes, and she slid her hand forward, embracing the water before shooting upward. She burst from the cloud and and twirled, allowing the warmth of the sun to hit her. Her wings spread wide, flexing powerfully. Her hands spread, her head thrown bag in sheer joy as the golden sunlight beamed off her.

On the ground, she was timid, shy. In the sky…. Alleta was an angel.

Alleta shot forward, wings beating dry as she corkscrewed and catapulted through the air. She glanced down at the ground. She could barely make out the shapes of towns. She dived a bit, swooping down through the cloud cover. The moisturous fog embraced once again, and she grunted, slipping on a pair of aviator goggles that hung around her head. She slowly lowered her head, just enough so that her face peeked below the clouds. She saw a gorgeous ocean, sparkling blue, like flecks of gold dancing in a pool of blue. There was a large landmass nearby.

“Probably a continent,” shouted Alleta to herself over the rushing wind, “Europe I believe. So that must be…” She smiles as a small island peeks into view. “Venice. Ah, how romantic.”

Fabio Lei Lombardi
Venice, Italy

Fabio gazed into the sky as he approached the double-L insignia gates. It seemed so perfect today, reflected in his green eyes. The golden skinned Italian turned his head to gate and pressed the intercom, slinging his small bag over the shoulder as the electronic voice answered.


“è Fabio,” he replied in golden Italian accent, “I’m back from work.”

The gates swung open immediately, and Fabio strides into the paradise, gates closing promptly behind him. Fabio walks to the garden, his eyes sliding easily over all the beautiful plantlife. He walks past the garden table without a glance and enters the house, with a customarily bored knock.

“Home, padre.” His voice, while rich and deep in baritone, was undoubtedly monotone.

“Ah, Fabio, my son, come here. In the office.”

Fabio followed the voice through the extravagant hall. Rich oil paintings lined the walls, depicting ancient Greek mythology. A water feature sparkled in the sunlight as the sunbeams caught the flowing waterfall. Fabio followed the voice through another hallway and he opened into a large office.

Signore sat behind a large oaken desk, spectacles on his eyes. He was turned slightly, facing the fax machine was was whirring and spitting out a single sheet of paper. He tore it off excitedly and looked up to see Fabio.

“My son, how was work?” he asked, his own rough Italian complimenting Fabio’s smoothness.

“Boring,” remarked Fabio, glancing through the office. Several pictures lined the walls. His eyes landed on one in particular. Fabio walked over to a photo of a beautiful, older woman, one with eyes as brilliantly emerald as his, “More Americans though. They do amuse me after a while.”

“Ah, American women,” nodded Sinore sagely, approaching him, “Careful, Fabio. The American woman is a business woman. She knows what she wants and manipulates anyone to get it.”

“Not like mum, eh?” replied Fabio, a bit bitterly, and Signore sighed, staring at the picture with hi.

“No, not like your mother,” he replied sorrowfully, touching the picture, “No woman could capture the passion of Italy like your mother.”

“Six months, and they still have no justice for the bombers?” replied Fabio angrily, blood boiling in his veins, “I watch the news, father. There is no justice. The US government just seals itself up like a turtle and hides.”

“They were suicide bombers, Fabio,” replied Signore gently, “There are no bombers to put on trial. Your mother new the risks when she went to the embassy in Iraq. She always has. She’s lived a good life, she would’ve wanted you to move on.”

“I want to move…” replied Fabio angrily, “But I am stuck here, modeling for drooling Americans. It is amusing, yes, but satisfying, no.”

“Well, then you’ll be happy to hear what I have to say,” said Signore with a beaming smile, “An old friend came to visit today. A… business partner from back in my youth. He has many connections, especially in Japan.” At the word ‘Japan,’ Fabio’s eyes light up.

“Can he get me on Sasuke?” he asked, his voice as excited as a little boy for a moment and Signore laughed.

“Sort of. You’ll have to work your way on there. But he can get you into the Japanese media circuit. And once you’ve done that, it’ll be a matter of time before the producers for Sasuke are knocking on your door.”

“Excellente!” exclaimed Fabio, and Signore handed him the fax.

“Just call this number and use that charm. You play your cards right here, and you’ll get exactly what you want, figlio.”

Alleta Smith

The skies were dark. Alleta frowned beneath her goggles as a few trace raindrops smacked against the plastic. She wiped away the water and soared up into the sky. Looming gray clouds piled against her. She wrapped her hands around herself for warmth and speed and shot upward. A crack of thunder exploded against her eardrums and she winced as her wings beat furiously against the air. She propelled forward like a missile, thrusting through the air until a flash of golden sunlight caught her eye. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she held her breath as she pushed through the whipping wind.

Finally, there was a burst of warmth and a flash of light. Alleta took a deep breath of cool air as her wings spread wide open in the warmth of the sun. She barrel rolled slowly, allowing the water to drip from her warming skin into the gray turmoil below. She glanced below her, taking her goggles off as she looked at the boiling gray stretching out beneath her. The storm clouds stretched for miles, a few crackles of thunder heard beneath the swirling gray. Safe above them, Alleta finally took a moment to admire the storm.

“It’s kind of amazing,” she whistled, hovering slowly long a few trace air currents, “What power in nature… God is surely magnificent…”

Yuuka Ookiyama
Osaka, Japan

“Konichiwa,” smiled Yuuka as she signed off on yet another picture before handing it to the screaming fan. Young teens battered at her from every side as she struggled to get into the limo, “Konichiwa!” The young girls screamed at her, she felt a vein pulse in her head. She forced the smile to remain, tossing her black tresses back as she signed picture upon picture in rapid succession, with the ease and practice of a celebrity. A slight dampness struck her face, and she blinked glancing up at the gathering grayness. A crack of thunder confirmed her suspicions. “Konichiwa!” she said brightly with a smile, and the fangirls screamed in disappointment but she shoved the last picture away, dropping the sharpie quickly in the girl’s hand as she leaped into the limo, door shutting behind her with a resounding thud.

The limo pulled away slowly as the girls hugged each other exuberantly. Yuuka gasped for breath, glancing through the rear window at the girls dancing in the rain. She pushed a long black strand behind her ear and breathed deep getting comfortable in the back of the limo. Niyagi glanced back at her from the other end of the limo, tapping on his expensive smartphone as she wiped the wetness from her collar.

“You should’ve held out longer,” he mentioned offhand, glancing down at his phone as he read through emails, “Another minute or two and we’d have an accidental wet t-shirt photo-op on our hands. Major publicity without ruining Anji’s reputation.”

“Not cute, sicko,” replied Yuuka with a snarl, ripping off her tie and throwing it at him, “You can take your schoolgirl fantasy somewhere else, I’m not interested.”

“Hmm, yeah, right,” snorted Niyagi, removing his eyes from his phone only to offer Yuuka a derogatory glance, “That’s why you didn’t change when we stopped at the hotel.”

Yuuka shot a look of venom at Niyagi before looking out the window. Dark clouds now filled the skies as water poured against the tinted window of the limo. She stared at her own dark reflection against the rainstained glass.

“What’s next?” she asked spitefully, trying to ignore his last comment, “Please tell me we’re going back to Tokyo now.”

“Yes, we are,” muttered Niyagi, staring through his glasses at the smartphone, “You’re meeting up with the rest of GirlSensation! for a reunion concert in Tokyo. It’s a small stint, you’re going to need a bigger event to kick things off.”

“Bigger? Isn’t that your job to pull together, ‘manager’?” replied Yuuka with a distained glance, “You’re supposed to be organizing all my events. Get me something big.” Niyagi seemed immune to the scathing remark and simply looked through his phone.

“Believe me dear, there’s nothing I’d love more than to get you a big paycheck and a concert” he remarked dryly, glancing at Yuuka leaned over the seat to open the chest freezer, “The more you make, the more I make. But unless that music rep from America calls me, you aren’t going to make it big anytime soon. So I’d shut the hell up, and let me do my job.”

Yuuka rolled her eyes as she took a handle of vodka from the chest freezer and a shot glass from the cupholder beside it. Yuuka poured herself a shot and downs it in a single gulp as Niyagi’s phone vibrates. She coughed and Niyagi raises his eyebrows as he picks up the phone. Yuuka paid no attention as he talks for a bit, focusing only on pouring herself another shot. Niyagi talked for a second, his voice going from confusion to excitement rather quickly. Yuuka was pouring her third shot by the time he took the phone away from his ear.

“Good news, I may have found you an accompaniment,” he whispers, hand over the phone, “Our sponsor put us in contact with someone. Requested it actually, so we need to make this work.”

“What?” replied Yuuka, annoyed, as she downed the third shot, “I’m not singing with some nobody that the sponsor wants to endorse. She’s probably terrible.”

“Oh, calm down,” replied Niyagi, rolling his eyes, “Your artistic merit isn’t that high. He’s being connected to us now. Talk to him. You had better okay it, we need an accompaniment for you.”

He holds out the phone for her, and Yuuka sets down the glass, an annoyed look crossing her face as she puts the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she responds in an annoyed voice, her bite obvious through the phone, “Who am I speaking too?”

“Ciao, bello.”

Yuuka froze. The deep Italian voice penetrated her ear like melted chocolate dripping down her eustation tubes. Her heart fluttered slightly, and her lips parted subtely.

“Ciao,” she replied, slightly breathlessly, the voice taking her by storm, “I’m Yuuka. Yuuka Ookiyama.”

“I know who you are,” replied the voice, deep, like a horse breathing after a race. Powerful, yet in total control, “My name is Fabio. Fabio Lei Lombardi. I’m a big fan of yours, Yuuka.” Yuuka blushed slightly and leaned back, toying with a strand of her black hair. Niyagi rolled his eyes but didn’t speak.

“Well, Mr. Fabio, I’m a fan of yours too, at least, of your voice,” she giggled slightly, toying a bit with the top button of her schoolgirl outfit unconsciously, “What can I do for you?”

“It’s not what you can do for me, mia belleza, but what I can do for you,” replied the voice, as dark and sultry as a midnight romance novel. Yuuka felt her hand slip slightly, barely capable of holding the phone tight, “A little birdy told me you need a singer. I can help you there.”

“Can you really?” replied Yuuka, a teasing tone taking her breath as she adjusted herself on the backseat limo.

“I can do whatever you need me to, signora,” the voice breathed, “Just fly me over there and we can… talk.”

“That sounds… good to me,” replied Yuuka breathlessly who gave a curt nod to Niyagi who rolled his eyes but nodded, “We’ll meet you in Tokyo for a sound-check. You better be there.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” promised the voice, deeply quiet, and the line went dead. Yuuka looked still for a moment before handing the phone to Niyagi, who took it carefully, an amused look in his eyes.

“Think he’ll suffice?” he asked nonchalantly, and Yuuka blinked a few times, leaning her head against the glass, the buzz of the alcohol kicking in. Or maybe that was just the aftereffect of the phone call.

“If he sings anything like he talks,” she responded, her voice low, “He’ll suffice. He’ll suffice quite… nicely.” She stared dreamily out the window as Niyagi wrinkled his nose in surprise. He glanced down at his phone, trying to ignore the tantalizing sweet scent that somehow had spread around the limo.

Alleta Smith

Alleta breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the familiar coastline on the horizon. The golden beaches glinted in her eyes as she soared high above the clouds, a smile crossing her lips as the golden state of California rolled into view.

“California girls, we’re unforgettable,” she hummed to herself, soaring high enough to only see the faint traces of people moving on the golden sand. She sighed slightly, thoughts of tan, skinny, beautiful girls dancing on the beach taking her mind. A small tinge of jealousy crossed her mind for a mere moment. But just as soon as it came, the wind whipped it away. She shook her head, closing her eyes and letting the sheer joy of flight wash over her. She smiled deeply and placed her goggles over eyes, letting her hands flatten against her sides as she raced forward, shooting like a bullet through the sky, racing faster and faster across the California air…

Olivia Harrison
Los Angeles, California

“You hear that?” muttered Mike, glancing into the brilliant blue sky, “That weird whooshing noise?”

“It was probably an airplane, Mikey,” replied Olivia, her bright gray eyes glinting with mischief as she kept her arm snaked around his, “Don’t worry about it. Worry about we’re ever going to get our coffee.”

“It’s alright, Viva,” Mike replied with a grin, “It looks like the line is moving faster now, we should be there soon, “About time too, I need a pick me up.”

“Mmm, so do I,” agreed Olivia succulently, squeezing his arm slightly. Mike smiled nervously and they made their way to the front of the line. A disgruntled teen employee appeared before them. Olivia couldn’t help but wrinkle up her nose slightly. He yawned, scratched his slight stubble before looking at them expectantly.

“I’ll have a soy cappuccino,” requested Mike politely, and Olivia smiled, chiming in.

“I’ll have a mocha please,” she asked sweetly, interlacing her fingers with Mike, a sparkle in her gray eyes, pushing a strand of caramel hair behind her ear.

“No soy cappuccino’s today buddy,” replied the employee annoyed, “We’re not making them today.”

“What?” asked Mike, slightly confused, “But your sign says…”

“I know what the sign says,” retorted the employee impatiently, “ but we’re not making them today. Order something else, without soy. We don’t have it.”

“But I can’t drink regul-“ started Mike earnestly, before the employee cut him off.

“Listen, if your not gonna order anything, get out of line. I’ll make the mocha, but you better get your stuff together.” Mike could only open his mouth in protest before the employee spun around, vanishing behind the counter to make the drink. Olivia put her hand on her hip, clearly offended as she turned to face Mike.

“Jeez, can you believe the way he just treated you?” she asked angrily, looking in the employee’s direction, “What the hell is he playing at?”

“I don’t know,” replied Mike, face in shock and slightly offended, “Something’s obviously bothering him.”

“Gives him no right to treat people like that,” she responded angrily, glancing over the counter, her eyes falling on a large jar of tips sitting on the counter. Gray eyes lit up slightly, and she gave Mike a sly look, who glanced at her, confused, before following her gaze.

“What? No way,” he replied, shaking his head, “The guy’s a jerk, but no reason to do that.”

Viva! What are you doing?

“Come on… nobody’s watching,” she waved her hand airily, glancing around the shop. It was true. They had been last in line and all the other customers were preoccupied with their beverages. Olivia leaned gently against the counter, shielding the jar from everyones view, and gazed at Mike with a teasing look in her eyes. Mike frowned slightly.

“I don’t know…” he responded slowly, and Olivia sighed, leaning forward slightly and running a finger down his chest.

Viva, stop it! This isn’t funny, you can’t just do this…

Oh shut it, Olivia...

“Come now... for me…” she said slowly, staring him deep in the eye, her gray irises sparkling with a hint of darkness, “Just do it. Be the bad boy, Mikey… Girls like bad boys…”

A strange look came over Mike. He bent his head slightly, his innocent pupils suddenly shrinking and taking on a similar dark hue. Slight shadows seemed to grow under his eyes, and with a mischievous grin, he slipped the jar off the counter and into the pocket of his jacket. Olivia smiled, and gave him a wink of approval, snaking her arm around him. They walked out of the coffee shop together, quietly, subtly, with the slight jangle of coins between their linked arms.


Alleta Smith
Boston, Massachussetts

Alleta shot down like a cannonball, dropping from the sky like a bird of prey. She swung her wings wide, feet catching the ground with a skid in the empty lot behind the local Lucky Mart. Dirt flew into the air with her landing, and she promptly tumbled over slightly, somersaulting in the earth before coming to a stop upside down in the ground. She giggled slightly to herself and stood up, brushing herself off and flexing her wings slightly. She sighed stretching her wings to their fullest extent, the brilliant white feathers catching the brilliance of the sun before she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. The wings slowly retracted, gently slipping deep into her skin, her skin pulsating slightly as the wings retracted between her shoulderblades. She sighed as she felt the torn gaps in her shirt where the wings disappeared, and she glanced about, eyes falling on the backpack she had left here on her departure. She walked over, unzipping it and pulling out a sweater which she throw over herself, her Hispanic features glowing with the thrill of the flight as she tucked the goggles back into her bag before slipping it onto her back.

She wandered out of the lot into the parking lot of Lucky Mart, walking around the dumpster before entering the store with a small jingle.

Jamal glanced up from behind the counter, a faded smile crossing his features.

“My dear Alleta,” he said softly, turning from a small television monitor facing himself, “How are you?”

“I’m great Jamal,” said Alleta with a broad grin. Her face was literally alight with joy, “I haven’t felt so good in ages. It’s great to get out for a bit!”

“I can imagine,” replied Jamal, a smile playing on his face, “What’d you do today? You had the day off, didn’t you say?”

“Oh, I just walked around,” replied Alleta brightly, pulling some money out of her pocket, “Got to visit some places, it was a blast. Nothing like a little traveling. What about you?”

“Oh, you are more active than me,” laughed Jamal softly, motioning to the TV facing away from Alleta, “I’ve just been watching a little TV.”

“You should get out more! See the world, live a little!” responded Alleta with a smile as she picked out a Gatorade from the fridge, “I grant you, I’m not the most adventurous, but everyone’s got something that get’s their heart pumping.”

“I’ve had enough heart-pumping for a lifetime,” replied Jamal with a slight laugh, taking Alleta’s money and handing her the change, “I’ll stick to the television for now.”

“Haha, okay Jamal. I’ll see you later, my class is going on a field trip to New Jersey tomorrow,” replied Alleta somewhat sourly, “I should be back in a few days, I’ll come visit then.”

“I look forward to it, my friend,” smiled Jamal as Alleta turned with the Gatorade, immediately taking a large gulp. Jamal frowned slightly as the door jingled closed, and he turned back to the TV monitor. He reached down and pressed the rewind button. Security footage played back on the monitor. A static-blurred image of a flying Alleta tumbling in the dirt behind Lucky Mart froze onscreen. Jamal stared at it for a moment before pressing a few other buttons. A message appeared onscreen.


“Be careful, Alleta,” he whispered, pressing the button as the image vanishing into darkness, “Be careful.”



Oct 31, 2009
Brisbane, Australia.
gwaaah! Yuuka is awesome :p I'm so happy you posted this haha, I only clicked on it randomly and there was a new chapter up ^__^

I think you should look a little closer however.. there were more than a few times where you lapsed into present tense. Also, there is a few missing letters in some words lol.

anyways, hope you had a merry christmas Prophet :)

Last edited:


Apr 14, 2005
Hehe, great chapter, especially loved Alleta's bits. God, this would be a perfect Heroes remake XD, it's so vivid. Can't wait for next chapter!
Not open for further replies.