Stone Walls do not a Prison make...

meme

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 19:06:32 GMT

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 08:40:25 GMT

as if i needed another thing... Fanora has come out again... joined six word stories.

Fanora was my atavian, or winged human creature. she was part of a medieval type world. but bleh don't feel like telling her story right now

http://community.livejournal.com/sixwordstories/27910001.html

http://community.livejournal.com/sixwordstories/29092113.html

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 06:19:18 GMT

4351 / 50000 words. 9% done!

this below made mel laugh when she was helping me reason out a scene.

Quote:The other officer comes back in and settles in the abandoned chair. “I apologize for my colleague. He’s having a stressful day. Can we get you anything? Water? Cigarettes?”

“No thanks.” So they are trying the nice guy routine now. I snort mentally.

“Eh cigarettes are bad for you anyways. I’m Detective John Phillips and you are?”

“Shouldn’t you already know?”

“Well yes, but I was hoping you’d tell me yourself.”

I give an unladylike snort in reply.

Falcon

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 05:39:14 GMT

3242 and blocked. >.<

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 18:34:28 GMT

1212 / 50000 words. 2% done!

i didn't get as much as i would have liked yesterday done. I can't seem to turn off the internal editor. silly me, but i'm happy with it... even if it is dark.

Holy Crap!

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 06:25:29 GMT

Hey guys... just a heads up... I ~~might~~ will be doing NaNoWriMo. I think i'm going to go mad. well good luck to me

Falcon

poem

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 16:46:09 GMT

How afraid would you be
if you came home and the
Key did not work?
That no matter what you did
that you weren't forgiven.
How long would you stare
at the closed door, hoping.
Hoping that it would magically open.
Nothing works like that in real life.
Would you scream, cry or bang on the door?
Doors close all the time they say
but no one expects it to happen.
Time to pick yourself up
and move on. All you have left
is what's on your back and your wits.
Follow the signs, it is time
to move on.

poem while packing

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 18:07:31 GMT

Everything Changes,
an that is a scary thing.
Sitting here looking at
the boxes in the corner,
I'm afraid.
What do I keep,
What do I change?
Is this another stage of life
or just the same thing?
looking at the things
makes me wanna scream
My teddy bear doesn't judge
but sometimes I need somebody else.
the time is ticking
and the sound is beating
at the same rate as my heart.
Can't I just go back to yesterday?
No.
Down the wormhole
across the galaxy it seems
back to where i was where everything and nothing changes.
Even going home,
I'm not sure it's even worth it.
So I journey on through the boxes heading down familiar paths
Maybe the distress will be worth it.

Sun, 21 Jun 2009 04:36:24 GMT

You Are the Philosopher

You love thinking things over and developing theories.

Learning is very important to you, and you pursue knowledge relentlessly.

You love to talk about the things you know, often in more detail than people would like to hear.

And you know a lot! You're always taking on new subjects, interests, and hobbies.

You are at your best when you are left alone to ponder your newest ideas and experiments.

You tend to withdraw from environments that are loud, contentious, or passionate.

What Role Do You Play?

Your Gift is Imagination

You are constantly dreaming. You are always thinking about what could be.

You love to express yourself in many ways. You have a way with words and tell vivid stories.

You love to be amused. You are good entertaining yourself, and other people find you hilarious.

You're the type of person who finds staying happy easy. There's always fun to be had!

What's Your Gift?

well except for the fact that i have chronic depression that's true.

Falcon

Music Meme - Songs that start with the letter "L"

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 03:05:22 GMT

Comment to this post and I will give you a letter. Upload and share five songs beginning with that letter.

inner_paranoia gave me the letter "L" so here we go...

1. Love me like a man - Diana Krall

2. Landing in London - 3 Doors Down

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWyWcKlypds

3. Love Song for No One - John Mayer

4. Lyin' Eyes - Eagles

5. Let it Be - Beatles

Bonus

Love Song - Sara Bareilles

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MR5xv3pt7KI

Love Story - Taylor Swift

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15KwQs4gnUc

What s Your Personality Type?

Sun, 07 Jun 2009 22:37:35 GMT

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<table width 350 align center border 0 cellspacing 0 cellpadding 2> <tr> <td bgcolor #EEEEEE > <align center> You Are An INFP </td> </tr> <tr> <td bgcolor #FFFFFF > <center> <img src http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/infp.gif height 100 width 100 > </center> The Idealist You are a creative person with a great imagination. You enjoy living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close to you. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. In love, you tend to have high and often unrealistic standards. You are very sensitive. You tend to have intense feelings. At work, you need to do something that expresses your personal values. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist. >br>How you see yourself: Unselfish, empathetic, and spiritual When other people don t get you, they see you as: Unrealistic, naive, and weak </td> </tr> </table> <div align center > <a href http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/ >What s Your Personality Type? </a> </div>

Happy Early Birthday...

Thu, 28 May 2009 01:42:47 GMT

well i'm about two days early but i'm glutton for celebration of any kind and i don't know if i would remember to post about it...

so Happy Birthday to me Friday May 29th!

Falcon

Personal Ignore if you don't want to read it

Tue, 19 May 2009 07:11:21 GMT

After feeling like a failure again...

I remember the first time i felt ashamed that I was smart. It was in the first grade and the teacher yelled at me for starting the assignment before she said we could. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed at that moment, and the teacher made me cry. My punishment was writing a few lines during lunch. It took maybe five minutes but I'd never been punished for anything at school before. Don't ask me what the lines were, I can't recall.

Around this same time my little brother wanted to do everything his big sis did, and got much better than me on his bike. Hell he got rid of training wheels faster than I did. He continued in that vein for a long time then I would give up because someone was better than me. I later left that school that year and had to play catch up to everyone else in the new classroom.

I continued at that school trying to make and keep friends. There was only one classroom per grade so you knew everyone very well. The moving about and small classes made me very possessive of my few friends. Plus in my street growing up there wasn't a lot of people my age, add to the fact that i went to a private school/or in another district, well you get the picture.

In fourth grade I started having trouble with my classes. couldn't stand being in with my English/french teacher. She wouldn't shut up and needed to retire. When I left that school for my fifth grade year I had to still play catchup (only in English though, was ahead in math). Even left the classes for tutoring/therapy. Hated it but love chalkboards ironically because of it.

I did well enough in classes until eighth grade. Then I started getting bored or not doing assignments. By my sophomore year I loved learning but hated school. I was so bored, resentful and afraid. If I had just worked hard enough I wouldn't have been bored in the accelerated classes. But I didn't.

I still am stuck in this spiraling pattern. Deep down I think I am afraid of succeeding. Well and of failing, but if I fail because I screwed up at least I know I didn't give my best. Even if it does make me want to tear my hair out. I sabotage myself in everything because inside I'm still that very bright wise little girl that got told off for starting early. For being smart enough to get it the first time. I don't think I've even told my mom the full story of why the teacher yelled at me that day. All I did was cry and tell her that the teacher yelled. (mind you my parents were about to get divorced at this time too). Go Figure.

Even now I still don't let people clean up my messes up for me.

4 drabbles

Sun, 10 May 2009 19:52:10 GMT

Title: The Circle Game
Pairing/Characters: Liz/Nikki
Rating: the last drabble is rated r the rest is pg-13ish
Summary: Snapshots of life
Word Count: 143 words, 161 words, 124 words, 134 words
Spoilers: season 5 episodes. (sorry i'm too lazy to look up the exact ones)
Notes/Warnings: Sex. Dating.
Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs but i forget who does >.<
Prompts: Forgiveness, Street/Shiver, Cooking/Negotiation, Sweat

Last to know

"Hey." Nikki looks up as she sees Liz in her apartment taking off her boots.

"Hey," Nikki replies. "So you decided not to go?"

"Yeah." She sits on the couch next to her.

"Make yourself at home." her voice slightly sharp at the invasion of space.

"Don't be like that because I changed my mind. I thought you weren't going to make a big deal out of this." Liz sighs.

"I just didn't want to be the last to know. You were leaving me alone with the boys ya know."

"I know. How can I make it up to you?"

Nikki smiles and pulls Liz closer. "I can think of a way." Liz chuckles against her lips as she steals a kiss.

"I think I can handle that!" Liz smiles before pouncing Nikki in a series of kisses that melt any resistance away.

Prompt: Street, shiver

The street was packed as they made their way through Chinatown. Bright colors seemed to blind you as the celebrations passed them by. Liz laughed at Nikki’s unease and pulled her into a corner for a kiss.

“Relax, everything is alright. The street isn’t going to bite you before we get to lunch.”

“So you say, I think you just wanted an excuse to bite me before the main course.” As Liz nipped at Nikki’s ear.

Liz whispers, “Well I can’t help myself you’re so edible. If you are a good girl I’ll treat you to something nice on the way home.” Shivers run down Nikki’s spine at the thought.

“Now what happens if I’m bad?” her voice is husky.

“I’ll make it worth your while if you are good now come on, lunch isn’t that much farther and there’s this shop I’d love for you to see.” Liz pulls her reluctantly out of the corner as Nikki sighs.

“Yes dear.”

Prompt: cooking, negotiation

“You are not bringing meat into my kitchen.” Liz stood there blocking Nikki entrance into the kitchen itself.

“But sweetheart we’re having those stuffed vegetables that you like so much why can’t there be something for me?”

“I won’t have it. Not here in my own apartment.”

“Sweetheart I’m not expecting you to eat it. It’s small and whatever I don’t eat we can force the boys to try. Even could give them some of your tofu to throw them off. Come on sweetheart please.”

Liz’s face was blank as she thought and then relaxed as she smiled. “Fine meat can come into the kitchen. But only to mess with the boys you understand?” Nikki’s answering smile could have lit up the entire city.

Prompt: sweat

The lamplight was the only thing allowing them to see in the bedroom. Hands glided over sweat-slick skin murmuring loving words tangled up in kisses. Liz gasped as Nikki nipped at her neck and pinched her nipples. An accidental scratch here, a nip there, it was all so divine. Nikki worked her body like a pro bringing out all the things previous lovers had never even touched. At her first hesitant lick shivers of anticipation went up her spine. Then it was all sensation sweat and trying to get more of that feeling. A moan and stillness as her mind went foggy. Nikki chuckled against Liz’s stomach, “wasn’t that a more fun way to make ya sweat?”

This startled a laugh as they curled up together like kittens in the heat of the night.

Poem of the night

Sun, 14 Dec 2008 04:22:57 GMT

She sits at the mirror,
pulling out pins one by one.
Her long hair cascades down her back.
She takes off her earrings,
Kerplunk! Kerplunk! Kerplunk! Kerplunk!
they plop into the dish.
her braceletsare pulled off with care,
then her rings are put onth their tand.
Hollowly she stares
at her reflection as she takes her necklaces off.
Slipping out of the dress
and standing bare,
She wonders if everyon
can she that she is broken.
Tonight is the night that
not even soothing jazz can calm.
Everything in her life seemed out of order.
From every freckle on her nose
to the hand-like bruises on her hips.
What is left of her smudged makeup
is taken off wit a few swipes.
The day is fast approaching.
Nothing is ever simple
for the Lady of the Night.

Poem as i fall into bed another day of testing awaits

Fri, 12 Dec 2008 04:27:23 GMT

Now I lay me down to sleep,
The day is over,
The moon is shining
full and clear.
She sings me lullabies
oh so dear.

And pray the lord,
Night is calling,
the stars are shining,
telling tales,
expecting a new day to appear.

My soul to keep,
Dawn is coming,
new day here,
precious moments,
held so dear.

The Scarlet Lady Killings (prompt 19: Color)

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 18:36:58 GMT

Title: The Scarlet Lady Killings
Pairing/Characters: Colby/?
Rating: Teen
Summary: "Colby's grandmother always told him he'd be done in by a lady in red."
Word Count: 300
Spoilers:N/A
Notes/Warnings: dark, death!fic. Thanks to Byrons_Brain for the format, Antiterror9067 for listening to me whine. and Especially for CPWatcher who's been the best cheerleader on this project from it's inception..
Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs, or anything else except the idea.

Colby's grandmother always told him he'd be done in by a lady in red.

Five bodies and Don’s team still couldn’t find any clues about the perp. The press started calling him the “Scarlet Lady Killer” crudely named after the perpetrator’s ‘calling card’, a white business card with a woman’s figure drawn in red.

Colby sighed and entered the bar. A flash of color caught his eye. There in the corner was a brunette with ruby lips and a red jacket. She smiled at him as she walked over. 'Carmen' she introduced herself. After several drinks, she invited him back to her place. “My car’s parked in the back” she said, as she led Colby around the bar, her hand pressed to his groin.

All the victims had the same type, male, mid thirties, dumped in a back alley with a shot to the head and heart. There was never any trace of the killer except that card.

She backed away from a kiss with a cruel smile. Suddenly, those ruby lips made her look like an Angel of Death. Her malicious laugh shot shivers down his spine and Colby knew she was the killer they’d been looking for. Crimson began to stain the front of his shirt as he crumpled to his knees. Pain was curiously absent as he looked at the light glinting off of the gun. BANG! And he knew nothing more.

The next day, Don, filled with grief, added a new photo to the line up of victims, along with the same business card as before. The only difference was that on the back of that new card was a message written in scarlet “Better luck next time!” The killer was taunting them. The new face that stared back at them from the photo was Colby’s.

Drabble (170 words)

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 04:50:40 GMT

Under a starlit sky she sat the glass of the solarium barely keeping a semblance of civilization under that sky. Her work table was filled with spools of thread, so many colors and shades. It was every single one that she owned. In front of her was a loom, one that had been passed down in her family for generations. Every woman in the matrilineal line had weaved something for almost 400 years. Or so the tale goes.

Now that she is about to become a mother herself fit is her turn to add her tale. Slowly her hand reaches for a spool at random, loading the fly with care. In a daze she moves every breath seemingly added to the flow of the weave. At random she changes threads, weaving a pattern without care for the consequences. It moves in a dance that only her family can understand. For this cloth is no ordinary cloth. She weaves her life into the tapestry of fate, as all before her did.

Drabble from Sunday afternoon

Tue, 11 Nov 2008 17:17:57 GMT

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Jazz from another time croons softly out of an old record player, making a lazy afternoon. He put the paper down and invited his lover to join him in a dance, as she was dancing along cleaning the kitchen. Laughter filled the air; love surrounded them in that moment. The phone rang out shrilly breaking the spell, but secret smiles and memories kept it alive. It was all about those lazy afternoons with jazz and them.

Vesica Piscis

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 05:03:06 GMT

Word count - 224
For Petitehatter hopefully i cheer her up.

The sky grew darker as the sun went down. Suddenly there way an angry orange ray of light that shot out at him before the sun completely left the horizon. It hit him like a lightning bolt, seemingly scorching his insides. From the ground he felt something raging upwards trying to be free, clawing its way inside of him. And then it was dark.

It was late morning when Eric finally opened his eyes. Stretching with a wince, his body complained at getting up to look around. He was naked probably a mile from the cave. Licking his lips he tasted blood and could feel something caked onto his body. He couldn’t remember how he spent the night. By the time he made back to the cave he had made a conclusion. He wasn’t going to spend another night out here, his parents were right to forbid it.

The cave had shreds of the clothes he was wearing and he was lucky that most of his gear was still intact. As he dressed and packed up he glanced at his reflection in a pot, looking back at him wasn’t his reflection. It was a feline that couldn’t exist today in nature. Dark fur with lighter dots, extended canines, it just couldn’t be. Inside him, a feline purred chewing on the bones of a bear.

Shades

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 17:17:21 GMT

Title: Vignettes of Shades
Chapter: Prolouge
Fandom: NCIS
Wordcount: 434
Thanks to Cp

The first time he saw a Shade he was four years old. She wore a Victorian dress and hummed a song, one he had heard all his life. In fact, she told him stories and communicated with him more than his nanny did. Their language was his first language. He didn’t speak until he was four and learned English slowly from his nanny.

When he was five he learned what a ‘mother’ was. The woman who bore him was drunk in the nursery and told him about things in the shadows that would trick him. That they were dangerous for him and to never let them know that he could see them. She passed out afterwards and his Mom held him close telling him that she loved him, humming that song.

He was eight when he watched his parents argue at the top of the stairs. They were both drunk and he was what they were yelling about. A Shade that he didn’t know pushed his mother off balance and she fell down the stairs. Hit her head, she was dead instantly. He had watched; he knew then that not all shades were like his Mom.

When he was fifteen, Tony was sent off to military school for having an expanded world view. Also known as having a boyfriend. Shades and humans had different ideas of what was acceptable behavior. He'd walked down the streets sometimes at night, and saw what humanity and the shades did. He hated not being able to tell anyone what he could see.

When he was 22, his Mom manifested herself to give him blood for the second time in his life. He had been injured in a motorcycle accident. His dreams of playing basketball professionally had just been killed in one fell swoop. She kissed his forehead and told him she loved him in the old tongue before she faded out the door. Tony tried to find a new dream.

When Tony was in Peoria he had to learn to balance. He got everything he did the first year using no help from the shades. The second year he began to learn just how much he could interview a shade and use it to get his gut feelings from the mess both human and shade left behind. He learned to clean up after a shade killing and to ask for a statement for something that didn’t talk. Sometimes Tony hated his job.

When Tony was in Baltimore he had this hard ass marine try and take over his case. They worked it together, and when it was over Tony smiled. His mom pushed him towards Gibbs and told him to follow. Sometimes Tony loved his job.

vesica piscis part two

Tue, 04 Nov 2008 05:05:39 GMT

word count: 150

His breath became slower as his mind fell away from his body, searching for something. Anything to call him home. He heard the far off calls of song birds but they were not what he needed. The rustle of many ground animals, but he could not see them. In his mind a path appeared leading out of the clearing towards safety. Walking along the path he stopped suddenly as a bear was in the way of continuing. It stared at him, measuring his worth. With a snort it nodded and went up the path, looked back as if to say ‘well aren’t you going to follow’. With a start Eric awoke feeling a weight in his hands. Three objects appeared, 2 bear claws, and a carved bear in a white stone. He put them in the leather bag for safety. Looking around him he realized that it was almost sundown.

Pray for the dead (unbetaed)

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 04:25:18 GMT

word count: 172
inspired by today's quote on mini_nanowrimo
and this pic http://community.livejournal.com/mourning_souls/642394.html

Pray for the dead; fight for the living.

Colby stood there in that graveyard, the afternoon light burning his shoulders. He was home sitting in the cemetery of the town he grew up in, bottle of jack in his hand.
The grave before him was in a language he couldn't even read but he respected the man buried there. This old man kept him out of trouble after his dad died; making sure his mom could spend more time with his little sister and her health issues.
He raised a toast to him and told him of the changes in his life as he sat there.
"He always said, 'Pray for the dead fight like hell for the living'. He was quoting somebody important." Colby smiled.
Ian sat down beside him on the grass; Colby had heard him walk up. "Sounds like a good man, one who taught you a lot."
"He was."
They sat in silence, contemplating life, death and everything in between until the sun went down. Companionable silence reigned as they walked away to their hotel room.

Vesica Piscis

Sun, 02 Nov 2008 01:35:16 GMT

title: Vesica Piscis
genre: original supernatural
rating: G
word count: 231

Eric had a week off from college and he was home. Being a ranger’s kid he knew all the best places to go in their park. There was this one spot he wanted to explore more than any other; it was a clearing with a cave attached to it. Legend says that it was a holy place a long time ago, and that it is haunted. If he leaves the house at first light he should be there a little after lunchtime, he hopes.
Climbing though the hills all morning, off the trail through the trees on a deer path, there it was. It was better than he had ever imagined, after being told for so many years not to go. He was finally here. The afternoon light highlighted the perfect circle that the clearing was ringed by tall husks of trees. The dark but airy overhang was another perfect circle, one that intersected in a natural vesica piscis.
Eric dropped his pack in the clearing and looked around for a spot to set up camp. In the cave there is a niche large enough to hold his sleeping bag and backpack. Perfect. Setting up camp is a monotonous task, and Eric lets his mind wander as his body moves with out him. He takes out his sitting pad and a small leather bag, settling down in the intersect to meditate.

The Gathering - Happy Halloween folks!

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 17:01:30 GMT

Title: The Gathering
Author: Falconoflight
genre: Original Fiction
Challenge: To slow down a moment in a narritive.
Notes: written oringinaly at the end of january. Thanks to Tigre, David, and CP for beta

The first night of the full moon is the time when our people gather. The sky is clear; the scent cleansed by the early rain making the ground beneath our feet soft and damp. Anticipation sits like a lead suit on our bones, for tonight we hunt instead of staying warm in our dwellings. We were once thought of as gods, to bring judgment down upon the earth. Those days are long past now, the age of the wolves is now in decline and perhaps now it is time for the rise of the cougar.

The time comes for our two human legs to be four feline paws instead. Moonlight falls on sleek fur as bodies rush through the woods in search of prey. The scents of the wet forest do not cover the scent that leads us home. An owl hoots in the distance undisturbed by our running. Crickets chirp creating a blanket of sound. Most of us run alone as we were meant, for true cougars have no tribe. A few cougars follow the wolves' ideas of hunting together in tandem. We are no Pride of Lions to compares us to those imbeciles is a quick way to get a nasty case of death or castration.

The young ones try to encourage the adults into a game of tag, enjoying the freedom as we go to the meeting point. Watching the cubs gives a sense of satisfaction and joy that they are even here to be part of our people. Trees are in the way of running standing like fences in our path; we must jump or swerve to avoid them. There is a creek all cross to get to the meeting place; cubs are led by a fallen trunk so that they not drown. The adults often try to jump or choose to swim.

We cannot help but have our night of freedom. No mere human will ever understand, and if they were not born of us, they never will. There is nothing like it for me when we run and hunt. Everything is simple it is only the act of movement and where I can go next that goes through my head.

We fight the instincts to be both feline and human in the human world but in the safety of the moon and our cabins in the woods it is no longer a problem. Just seeing the lights in the distance brings to mind safety.

The meeting place is just a circle of nine tree with runes carved into it, four and three quarter miles from the cabins in a straight direction. The clearing is marred only by the stump of an old tree that serves as a throne. We all enter in feline form greeting each other properly by rubbing our scents upon each other. The feeling of fur against muzzle is a pleasant one. My grey form does not stand out at night among my tawny cousins.

Originally I was of another tribe that had joined this one, like all the other tribes we had been afraid. We were small only about 10 members total the wolves pushed us out of our territory. Every former leader was called Beloved and my old tribe has not forgotten me though we all have allegiance to the king now. An unspoken signal has us changing back to human form as the king enters. Under the light of the moon our king calls us. We bow waiting.

Joseph is a plain man, all hard angles and dark features; he would be passed by in the human realm as ordinary. He speaks in a gruff voice, and all fall silent in reverence. “My fellow Cougars!” he shouts, “I welcome you to the Gathering. We meet on this night to remember where we came from and those we have lost!”

The tribe shouts in glee as he wins them over again on this night. “We were once considered Gods to the humans! Eventually Man turned on us and we had to hide who we are. Man rose to hunt us and worship Wolf! That was unacceptable. Wolves have since ruled the shifter realm and hunted us down. We hide from them and the rest of the world. Together we are strong; alone the wolves will hunt us out of existence.”

The tribe of cougars makes shouts of anger and disapproval.

“Tonight, I have a serious accusation to bring before the tribe. One of our own has broken our laws of secrecy! The wolves know that we still exist in this area.”

A brave soul shouts “Who could have done this?”

Joseph flashes a feral grin. “Nora! Our Beloved daughter, originally from the Montana Tribe. She has spoken about us to a wolf. And if she spoke to one wolf, the rest of the pack will not be far behind.”

The cries against me were deafening. Rough hands dragged me in front of the crowd that called for my execution. I froze, horror etching my face in a parody of a mask. It could not, be true. He wouldn’t be so threatened by me that he would have me killed. Thoughts began to race through my head as how I would die.

“Tribe Law has 4 punishments that can be given. The first is a warning, the second stripped of rank, third banished from the tribe and the last is to be hunted and killed for crimes against the tribe. I suggest a fifth option my people. That She be forced to lead the wolves away from us and die by their hands. What say you?”

The bloodthirsty shouts of agreement covered my denials of doing anything wrong. I could barely hear the sound of my own heartbeat with the noise of the tribe. I was crucified for some thing I could not have done. There is a rain of spit and hisses upon my head as I huddle on the ground by the throne surrounded by my tribe. There was nothing I could do. The king’s word is law in the tribe; no one could go against him.

Hot salty tears run down my cheeks as I am forced out of our holy ground. Joseph will lead the hunt against me if I manage to survive the trial. Their taunts roll off my back as I begin to run towards my death by wolves.

Your Career as a Deadly Assassin (LJ) by maxgallagher
Username
Gender
You first killed at age	25
Your victim was	A celebrity
Reason	Pleasure
Your trademark weapon	Sniper rifle
Your reputation	Arrogant and contemptuous
You work with	cier
You kill for	Power
In the end, you are defeated by	minisinoo
Your death	Knife in the back
Your career body-count	866