Mordred remembered the day everything changed as clear as one would see a sky without clouds within.
The day she died.
The day his young self saw blood splattered upon a woman who used to sing to him at night, hug him right before setting him off to school, cook him homemade meals, the woman who he had called his mother for years.
(Story in signature)
“This is bullshit,” Terrell groused over his serving of oatmeal. His umber hair stood on end, unbrushed. “What, they’re afraid a little meat might make us too exciteable?”
Astrid slid her eyes to the Guardians that took vigil over the dining hall. Thankfully, the din of dozens greeting one another drowned Terrell’s complaint.
“I can’t believe a lack of bacon with your breakfast is the biggest problem you have in life and you’re this irritated,” she replied.
Dialogue. Yet, still pertinent. What can you do?
Quote:I don’t remember much of the earthquake. The screaming, mostly, and the house collapsing on us. I remember my mom wrapping herself around me, and a cold wave of something, in the LA heat. She uttered some words— something that wasn’t English or Spanish, Latin or any other language I’d heard so far. Then the world went up in flames. Roaring, tall red that ate everything I’d ever known.
Everything went dark for just a split second. Like God pressed the pause button and the whole world stopped. I don’t believe in God, by the way, but dad did. I wish I could believe too; maybe then dad’s rosary would mean more. Maybe it wouldn’t feel cold against my chest, or maybe it would give me hope.
The people who found me didn’t believe that I hadn’t been alone in the house. There was no sign of my mom ever being there, except for the cross I clung to after she had pressed it onto my palm. (“Crucifix,” I heard my dad remind me, even though he’d been dead for four years by then.)
Now jack was very furious because there was a mistake and the code which can be blamed on the is very tired brain he was working on this code for some time now and was very happy with the results for the final checking he performed a scenario in which a dog was hit and run on the road and was dying and the car driver was taking off he ask the program the result of the scenario. The program said that the appropriate response was memorising the plate of the car and taking that dog to the hospital. He was very happy with the response and entered a command toSave the changes in the code.
he started viewing the main restrictions of the A.I. and its core principle , its main restrictions were
- Take care of jack and to serve him and aid in achieving his goals
- Not lying to jack by deliberately falsifying the facts or by omission
Its core Principle was based on HOPE.
this is my story pls visit at least 1 time https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/54963/hope-in-the-humanity
"Not breathing, heart unmoving, diseased. There were no witnesses, but judging by the blood analysis and state of decomposition of his skin he died about 24 to 26 hours ago."
The words of the doctor were cold, that spirit eager to save lives and help people had long been extinguished.
The morgue was a cruel place, the disillusion of being continuously reminded of the weight of death down your shoulders isn't something most people can handle, but is something you may be able to get accustomed to. The job required a pragmatic and detached attitude and he was just that, a shell of his past self.
Quote:The creature lurked around the village, looking for its prey and keeping to the shadows. Its fur blended together with the darkness, revealing nothing except for its cold blue eyes. It looked around, sniffing at the air before tracing an especially delicious scent towards the house of one of the villagers. Stained glass windows and ornaments decorated the house, one that would have cost a fortune to renovate.
And then it laid there, waiting for someone to come out for it to enjoy its meal.
The door opened and the creature was in full view to the inhabitants. The torchlight within the house illuminated the creature's fur, laying it bare to the man standing there ready to leave the house. It pounced on the villager, ripping at his flesh, tearing apart meat from bone. But before it could deliver the killing blow, the wolf heard the screams of a child. It looked up to see a young girl screaming at the top of her lungs, and in the middle of those screams came one word.
Sometimes, patience was needed for a successful hunt. The night grew darker and the wind brought the scent of blood, they both gulped sensing the blood around them.
The drakes finally stopped eating and trudged towards the bigger one standing behind them with its yellow snake-like eyes darting left and right. After it made sure no threat was found, he laid down followed by the two and went to sleep.
Quote:“A dead body, a dead body, call the authorities!”, a peasant exclaimed with a contorted look of shock and nausea.
Onlookers scoffed and grimaced while maneuvering themselves through the scene. Finding a body had become commonplace in the city of Colst. Crime had more than tripled in the last couple of years. People got abducted in broad daylight; the streets littered with a mix of cheap booze and urine. Every other corner sat an addict riding their high or trying to scrounge up enough for their next fix.
The city had no money to fix the issues of the common folk but what the government couldn’t fix was a drug to numb. As the crime rate went up, so did the drug market's income, and it invested right back into itself. New drugs popped up faster than anyone could figure out how to handle the last one. Drowning in crime and narcotics the Criminal Investigation Bureau or also called CIB found itself chained down in a bottomless swamp of cases.
this is the first 3 paragraphs of my novel Let's Play: Chronicles of Zurefgar
Quote:Saturday, 6th of January, was a typical day in the semi floating city of Kota Seribu where nothing would likely change the life of an 11th grader like Pras. Yet, in this supposedly peaceful semester break, there were two things that were unusual for this short wavy-haired teenager.
The first was the calm sky despite being in the torrential rainy season. Thus, Pras was forced to walk the two dogs his family kept as pets. The tall and light brown skinned teenager begrudgingly performed the duty. Though, Pras had to admit the gentle morning breeze of this tropical archipelago had helped carrying his worries from the past back to slumber deep within his heart.
Another anomaly presented itself when he returned home at 9 am, in the form of his rather new classmate, Eggi. The shorter yet handsome pale brown skinned teenager sat comfortably at the sofa in the living room.
Quote:My name is Cirus Naut, I am a scholar of the Zeflopidian Galactic Collective, and the author of this educational publication. When the Collective wants to determine if establishing interplanetary trade would be a mutually wise choice, a preliminary agreement for an ambassadorial exchange is made between us and the civilization of interest. The civilization in question for this publication is the Eas-Enerang Apiary.
To learn what we can about our potential planetary partners, the Collective always send academics like us as its ambassadors. We are experts in our designated fields, ranging from the arts, to politics, to dialects, and within each field of research we are separated into something more specialized. My study group specializes in history. It is deemed more of a catch-all type of field since to understand the state of a subject one must understand its past. Based on that rationale, some of my fellow historians are specialized in more broad histories and are often paired with other groups, like art and politics, to aid them. Some histories are narrower in scope, like mythologies or an individual’s biography, and work by themselves or in a team no greater than three. There are a few histories, however, that would yield very little record of substantiality.
The history of the Anuh-Kaj and their Apiary on Eas-Enerang is a prime example. It was always a civilization of a single culture and species that shared some form of a hivemind. Apart from a few sporadic culling events which occurred out of desperation during the worst of times back a few thousand cosmic millennia – as well as their continual technological progression – there was no real internal change or momentous disputes of note. There was trade, but not in a “traditional” sense familiar with many other cultures throughout the known galaxy. The closest to wars of violence they would have were against a massive predatory protozoan species known as chlithes-nok, which would descend from the sky every couple of Eas-Enerang’s millennia for a deadly and near devastating three-day rut. The Apiary’s advances in technology over time made living through the rut more doable, though not to be underestimated.
*(But seriously, it gets much more interesting after this.)
Quote:Another day, another bank robbery in broad daylight.
Milly had heard it said once that the difference between people and animals was that an animal could learn from its own mistakes, but that people could learn from each other. Then what did that make the half a dozen crooks she was looking at right now inside the foyer of the Bulwark Bay Community Bank?
Animals with ski masks on, guns drawn, and hostages against one wall?
I write to you after I have already left. I don’t want to have to see your tender face, your loving voice, your gentle eyes tearing up as I have to let you go. I wish to leave you in person. I truly do. But I cannot risk being followed. Please believe me when I say that I want to be able to see you before I go. I write this whilst I watch you sleep so softly. You remind me so of your father, perhaps of myself.
Do not forget me dearest. I do love you so. Trace your fingers across these words and do not forget me. Don’t try to follow me. I need to do this by myself.”
My hands trembled and threw the piece of paper across the length of the room before landing on my face. I felt myself lean back. This was the worst. It had been so long. So, so long. Too long for you to still be alive. I fell onto the hand scraped wood of the study face first and let out a wail. Why did you go, mother? I look up at the ceiling and traced the constellations that once shone in blue above me. It was simple back then. A bright neon green book with the names of each star printed in ink faded to the colour of the ceiling. My mother had sat with that book every night and read it to me when I was scared of the dark, until I eventually fell asleep. Sometimes, I would wake up and she would be sleeping with me, mostly, however, she was gone.
Technically 4 paragraphs, but I don’t count the first bit ;]
Quote:Truly, there was no place like Hell.
Earth was a lovely place too, of course. Its blue skies and azure waters were soothing to the soul, and there was something about human society that came off as remarkedly quaint. Indeed, the sights, sounds, tastes and smells of the human's home world were exceptional, but nothing could ever beat the feeling of returning home.
From the moment he stepped into the Jump Terminal in the Paris Catacombs, Cobalt Trayer couldn't help but feel excited. Nervous, of course, but giddy nonetheless. It had been so long since he had been in Hell, he had almost forgotten what it was like to meet a fellow demon. Once he paid his fare, it was a quick hop through a blood-red portal, a brief customs check on the other side, and before long, Cobalt found his feet firmly planted on Hellish soil.
Quote:"I'm gettin' too old for this shit."
That's Jack. He's fourteen years old.
Jack runs his fingers through his shaggy mop of hair as if doing so would somehow wipe away the growing sense of inevitability. It seems like every time something is about to happen, he gets a little tingling sensation in his scalp, like a colony of ants is tiptoeing around up there. The sensation radiates from the roots of a white streak that starts over his right eye. It could possibly be his imagination, but experience tells him otherwise. He's seen this story play out the exact same way too many times to second-guess his gut, or the skin on his head.
Quote:In a sunlit corner of Halfhill’s marketplace stood a man with a vivid imagination and crude interpretation of truth. He had drawn a crowd and, to a certain young Aer’s surprise, not a single overripe tomato or rotten apple sailed through the air. Few storytellers dared to take the market-stage. While small flying produce was considered an occupational hazard, an adult dragon could lob a rotten pumpkin surprisingly far.
A combined group of Dragons and humans lead to strange sights for those new to the Kingdom of Sawaila. The crowd shifted like a colorful amalgamation of monotone tunics and wings, ranging from the metallic sheen of the Metia to the fiery hues of the Sol.
A young Aer dragoness weaved through the crowd with the nimble grace of a dancer or a duelist. Her head only reached up to a human’s throat, but she already brimmed with muscles that put others her age to shame and stood in stark contrast to the slender frame of an Aer. Her scales shimmered in sky-blue, like a clear horizon in spring.
Quote:Once upon a time, an enormous explosion occurred in an empty void. From that explosion, galaxies spread and a variety of worlds were formed as years passed- and a selected few grew life within it.
Angels came down from the kingdom of Heaven to see the creation and give signs to those worlds for guidance. However, there is one particular world that caught the creator's attention. It was very large and pitch black, as if He was looking at a black hole. From His command, the angels descended with grace and power before bursting it with colorful flames, thus bringing life to everything.
Unlike other worlds, though, this one came with different terrains of bizarre heights, oceans of different lengths, diverse creatures that adapt to any habitat. Despite that, the continuation of creating had given the image of man a life.
Quote: He never expected to get caught, years surviving as a thief since childhood gave him that sheer confidence. And yet, here is the young man being caught by the City Guard as he tried to escape with his ill-gotten score. Meanwhile, all his accomplices managed to escape the long arms of the law, barely
Everything was perfect, supposed to be perfect. He and his friends have scouted the target for weeks, studying everything from his routine and behaviour. He timed it well, down to the seconds, planning to pull the heist just before the target left the city, where everyone is busy preparing to pack things up. He picked the right people for the job as well, each one capable at their role and is someone he can trust to watch his back. Everything should have gone perfectly that night...
But he should have known not to choose an Archmagus as someone to rob. And now he paid the price.
You can read the rest here Zennardi Magi Academia: A Magic Thief
The entirety of Greenwich High burst out of the school's front doors, their legs carrying them as fast as possible to the buses lined up to take them home. One specific student chatted eagerly with her friends, lacrosse gear hanging off of her arms as she tried to keep up. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she waved goodbye and ran to her ride.
Lea was her name. It was a long time ago when this all happened, but her name is remembered above all else that went on that day. She was bright but a little dimwitted and performed her best when playing sports. Her wonder attracted many to her, the way she walked and the look she had on her face said it all. Happily, she ran to her bus ready to go home and relax in her warm bed.
Quote: Rainfall had seen the coup d’état against her father, the murder of her brother, and the loss of her birthright. A week later and it still gave no sign of stopping. Rainfall would see the first kill of her retribution.
Such weather was rare in Priene, the city that sat astride a fertile plain and barren desert. This was a land of long gusts and sand-laden winds, of windbreakers and kufiyas. Isadora’s heavy suncoat clung to her, soaked by the downpour as she climbed the ramped streets. A large man kept pace alongside her, movement stiff with age. Two blades bounced at his hip; his hand rested on one of their pommels. Neck scarves covered both of their faces up to their noses.“If I was romantic, I’d think the sky was crying just for us, Harig.”