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  • Mood: Zest
  • Listening to: Music
  • Reading: Epic length fanfics
  • Watching: Nothing
  • Playing: I still want to get back into BvS and UR.
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"New year, new life."

James blinked and looked up and over to Dr. Razyn. He cocked a brow at the doctor's first comment of the evening.

When the younger Razyn asked James if the elder could come to their home for New Year's Eve, James didn't know what to think of it. At first he thought it was a prank, or some kind of shenaniganery. But as the night went on, and the typical guests streamed into the mansion foyer and subsequently living room, dining room, kitchen, bedrooms and gaming parlor, he took note that neither of the two Razyns seemed to be up to anything. 

So it wasn't until when around seven minutes into ten o'clock that Dr. Razyn made his first comment that James realized that they had been sitting together for almost an hour, eating the light New Year dinner.

Letting out a soft grunt of acceptance of this fact, James returned the comment. 

"You what, mate?"

The doctor turned to him, so his organic eye could meet his. "You've been gone from the tunnels too long."

James closed his eyes and shrugged. "True. Uh, five years now." He slowly opened his eyes, and let them widen a little. "Yeah. A long time since I was down there." He looked over to Dr. Razyn. "I didn't realize."

Razyn nodded. He turned to watch Marc punching his brother Devinne in the stomach. The mutant man crumpled, laughing, while the middle brother David laughed along. Marc sneered, pulling Erica close.

The quiet men looked back at each other. The doctor broke the short silence. "New life, new year is a phrase that gained popularity last year, with the rise of a spore-core popstar." He made a motion of pulling an opening hand away from his mouth a few times. "Every year, everyone can spread themselves through friends and family, just like he and his kin can."

James nodded. "You're getting pretty hip." He picked up a spoonful of soup and sipped it, watching Jessica stroll over. She was grinning wide as always as she took a seat between them.

"Hi you two!" She seemed especially peppy, which James had to admit he didn't mind. 

Razyn gave a short wave, mechanical wrist silently swaying. James did the same.

Taking a slice of bread in hand, James drawled out an "Ey, wassup."

Jessica shrugged, the thick fabric of her dress bunching slightly and relaxing with the motion. "I just finished setting up the boring bits of the new year, so I thought I'd swing down here and see how everyone is doing." She looked over the twenty or so people gathered in their home.

She threw her hands up at someone who just dropped onto the couch. "Oh, its Jen!" She hopped out of her seat. "I gotta go see her, it's been way too long." She looked back at James and Razyn, who stared back at her. "Don't cause too much trouble you two." She winked. "New year, new life!" With that, she skipped over to the couch, almost floating.

James furrowed his brow. "Oh, Jess knows that phrase." He shrugged with a smirk and looked to Razyn. "I feel old now."

Razyn nodded. "That cannot be so bad."

"Nah." James chewed on some bread, watching the tv from where he sat. "Getting old... Happens." He looked down at the crusts in his hands and gnawed on them.

"You have gotten older, James."

James looked over to Razyn. As always, the doctor showed nothing in his expression.

James gulped slightly. Hearing his name droned out like that sounded ominous. Everything the doc did sounded ominous or looked dramatic.

All he could muster was "I guess, yeah."

The doctor looked to him, seeming bored or uninterested in the conversation. As if it didn't matter. James could never figure out the guy. "When I first met you, do you remember what you said to me?"

James furrowed his brow. "Uh... No. No, not at all. A lot of that time was... You know what happened."

The doctor didn't say anything after that. He just watched Devinne pick himself up and wander over to where his siblings were standing around, and joined them for a drink.

James returned to watching the tv.

"I want to make everything back the way it was before, and I don't want it to change again."

James blinked several times, as if trying to wake himself from a dream. He slowly turned towards the doctor, who was turned to face him fully. He was leaned in slightly.

James shook his head. "What?"

The doctor only nodded. "That is the first thing you told me. You wanted to reset your life and prevent it from changing."

"...Oh." That seemed random.

"You have changed since then. When we were first introduced, you were dead set on never changing or growing up, or anything else of the nature."

James stared at the doctor. Razyn stared back at him. They sat like that for a few moments. James took a deep breath and scratched his cheek. "Oh. I uh... Thanks? I guess?"

Razyn shook his head, and watched the tv. "Think nothing of it, old friend."

James smirked and gave a snort. "Aight."

Someone cleared his throat next to James, and he jumped in his seat. "Jeeze."

The younger Razyn shrugged, smiling. "Enjoying yourself, boss and bro?"

The doctor nodded.

James just gave the younger Razyn a disapproving look. Feigned anger, but he has told Razyn not to sneak up on him. "Sure. What up?"

Razyn shrugged and walked off. "Just wanted to know what you were talking about." He sat down next to James. "You talk about that thig you wanted to talk about?"

James looked to the elder.

The elder shook his head. "It was not necessary. As I anticipated."

The younger nodded, smiling a little. "Good. That's good." He patted James on the back. "Before you ask what we're talkin about, just don't worry about it, boss."

James shook his head, raising his hands a little. "Whateva." He reclined in his seat and sighed. "New uh year, new life."

The elder nodded, watching the tv. The younger gave a short cheer, and pulled James closer, hand on his shoulder. "Atta boy, boss! New year, new life!"

James just smirked as he supped his soda., watching the New Year's coverage on the tv.
New Life, New Year
Happy New Years!

Just a little bit of a rattling off of words and dialogue about growing up and having some time to think.

Also a great chance to find a voice for modern James. 

Characters (c) me, qinop.
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'I'm a star.'

oXo

With a sharp intake, James snapped awake, bolting into a sitting position. From his spot next to Jessica, he quickly breathed. Only shallow breaths came to him.
Jessica stared up at him. Between being wary of the city dwellers, and sleeping in a single small bed together, she woke up as soon as he bolted upright. "James." She whispered, just so she wouldn't startle him. "What happened? Nightmare?"
James slowly turned to look at Jessica. He blinked, wiping his hair out of his brow. "Jess? Is that you?" He squinted. It was hard to tell in the dark of Jessica's shed, but... His friend looked so strange and foreign.
Jessica frowned and sat upright, the sheets falling off of her. "...Yeah, yeah it's me." She extended a hand, grasping James' shoulder. She strained to see in the dark, tried to find his barely less dark eyes. "Are you okay? You're starting to scare me."
James flicked his eyes toward where Jessica's soft hand held his shoulder. He looked back to her, and noticing the familiar curves of her face, and the volume of her hair, smiled. He nodded a little, pulling up the bed sheet. "Yeah." He let out a sigh. It felt like relief, but he didn't know why. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had some kind of nightmare."
Jessica stared at him for a moment before removing her hand. "Wanna talk about it?"
James furrowed his brow and looked off into space. What was it about?
James must have been staring for too long, because Jessica suddenly gave him a good firm poke to the side. He flinched and looked to her.
She just offered a smile that his dark adjusted eyes easily made out (her smile was pearly white). She lessened the grin and asked, "Well? What was it about?"
James shrugged. "I don't know. I forgot." He furrowed his brow, not happy with the answer.
Jessica frowned. She stared at him for a moment, as if to gauge whether or not he was letting her on. When she didn't see any of the usual signs of him lying, she laid back down. "Well... Regardless, try to get some more sleep. Tomorrow is seven day. Gotta meet Marc again."
James laid down with Jessica. He looked at her for a brief moment. Eyes closed, faint smile, curled up. She looked so comfortable, like sleeping on half a bed was all she'd ever known.
James looked back up the ceiling of the shed and blinked a few times. That dream bothered him. What did being a star meant?
Stars are gods, or big balls of fire, or even specks leftover from an overuse of magic, long ago.
Magic? He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. It was weird, but he felt like he knew.
His eyes drooped with the thought. He knew from some other time, when he did... Something.
Sleep took him again.

oXo

"The sun is shining!"
James grunted, and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Jessica always knocked the wind out of him on a seven day. She always woke up as soon as the sun rose on a seven day. She was always the most energetic on a seven day.
He rolled up and stretched, smoothing out the blacks and whites of his mantle thing. Someone called it a mantle once. It stuck with him.
Jessica was busy packing supplies into his and her backpacks for the seven day. She was so energetic.
James scooted out of bed and scratched at his back. "What are we getting today?"
"Whatever they have!" Jessica exclaimed, waving a spatula. She tossed a (stale) donut at him. It landed in his yawning mouth.
He took a bite and stood next to her, watching her movements as he tried to wake up.
As he ate, he started to doze again, standing up.
Jessica slapped his backpack into his chest, startling him awake. He winced.
"Come on, time to go." She held one strap over her shoulder and marched right out the door.
James proceeded in first gulping down the doughy breakfast and then in following after her.

oXo

James had learned very quickly just how large the City was. It spanned fifteen day's walking, from sunrise to sunset, not including sleeping in between. It was also during these past few weeks that he learned that in addition to being his best friend, Jessica was also his only means of getting along in the city. 
For some reason, he couldn't memorize anything about the grey buildings, dingy vacant lots, or black streets. He had brought it up with Jessica, but she couldn't give him a definitive answer why he couldn't grasp the City. So, without any real hang ups, James just decided it would be for the best if he stuck around with Jessica until he got his bearings, if that ever happened.
"No! This is worth at least fifteen bottles!" Jessica shouted as she slammed a fist down onto a wooden counter.
In his haze of the morning, James wondered how easy it would be to learn the City. Being lost would be less embarrassing than the scene Jessica causes every seven day.
Regardless of her methods, she did get results. Seven days, and Jessica's skills in trading, were maybe the only reason they survived at all. Eating trash isn't even remotely healthy; its the stale pastries and sub par fruits and vegetables Jessica gets that keep them sustained.
James blinked, and yawned as he followed Jessica, who was now wearing a backpack full of apples and oranges.
"Ready to haggle with Marc?" She grinned back at him.
When he let out a croaking sound as a response, she only giggled as retort. "You know, you may be the only guy he's ever gone a good ten minutes without cussing out!"
He just smacked his lips, still asleep. "I think its cause I'm not really talking to him at all."
That made Jessica chuckle. "Naw, I think he likes you." She snorted. "Not the way he likes me, but still." The sarcasm was thick on her breath, James could smell it.
They continued down the street and on into the living areas. The places Jessica told him that people who had 'money' and worked in the City lived.
It was a difficult concept to grasp, but the results spoke for themselves. The living areas were all like super sized sheds, and could very well fit twenty people if they slept and lived the way he and Jessica did.
They stopped at a particular living area, the same one they do every seven day. The one with the overgrown grass, the rusted bike in the grass, the piles of mail stuck into the box in the front, and the boarded up windows that matched the peeling paint.
"Marc's house." James fluttered his eyes, trying to get the sleep out. By this point of the seven day, he was totally awake. Or at least when he stepped into Marc's house.
"Mhm!" Jessica chirped, marching across the grassy pathway to Marc's front door. James stayed at her heel, lugging he forgot whatever was in his backpack with him. She clacked the large brass knocker on the front. "Marc, open up!"
The door swung open, Marc standing at the threshold. He crossed his arms across his chest. "You're early. Bring a bunch of stupid shit again, or something useful?"
Jessica visibly cringed. "No, no stupid stuff, Marc."
James nodded, eyeing the surrounding living areas. Its weird that there was never anyone else around Marc's living area.
Marc shrugged and signaled for them to follow him as he retreated into his abode. Jessica and James followed him, as they had time before, into his dining room, which was somewhat barren, except for the basic fixtures.
Jessica gave a sound of intrigue as she sat down at her usual spot. "What happened to all the dirty plates and take out cartons?"
James, as per his own wont, took a random spot at the table, setting his backpack next to him.
Their host sat across from Jessica, grunting, eyeing her. "I finally got someone to help me clean." He sniffed. "Smells better. Makes me less agitated." It was something he was known for, and James thought maybe there was something else keeping him from flying off as usual.
"What did you bring me?"
"Well," Jessica countered, grinning the grin of a predator, "What do you have?"
Marc grunted. "Weapons."
"Pass."
"Ammo."
"Pass."
"Artifacts."
"P-" Jessica stopped and grabbed her own chin, humming. "New ones?"
Marc shrugged. "New to you. Relatively new to me. Still old things."
James rubbed his rumbling stomach and watched the negotiations. Before he could ask, Marc cut him off with a "Yes, you know where the food is, no you can't have anymore than a handful of bottom shelf." James nodded and wandered to the kitchen, leaving them to argue.
Grabbing a handful of drumstick, he tossed the fridge closed. The kitchen looked cleaner, so his appetite wasn't leaving anytime soon. 
It was while he was appreciating the decor of Marc's kitchen that he noticed something laying against the counter, in the corner. It was long, and wrapped in a leather sack. He grabbed it and came back to the others.
He interrupted their argument and presented it. "What's this?"
They both looked at him. Marc shrugged. "Yours. Its an old brittle sword. It was part of a bundle trade and I was going to throw it out."
James bobbed his head and looked inside the cylindrical sack. "Wow, thanks Marc."
Marc grunted and went back to his debate with Jessica. They just sounded like they wanted to argue about something. it wasn't even related to the trades anymore.
James removed the sword to look at it better. It was smooth and shiny, and so reflective he could see himself in it.
He grinned at himself. 

'You're a star.'

James flinched and almost dropped the half sheathed sword.
"James!"
He jumped and looked to Marc, expecting to be yelled at about some offense. But Marc only gently shook his head, his usual scowl and glare gone. He bobbed his head toward Jessica.
James slowly looked to Jessica. He paled to match her expression. "What is it Jess?"
She pointed to him. "Your forehead. Something on it is glowing. Really bright."
James furrowed his brow. "Glowing?" He looked up at his forehead, and then at the sword, to see his reflection.
What looked like beams of light were just then fading away from his forehead. He blinked and cleared away his hair. The lights left behind black lines in zig zags and lines.
He looked to Jessica, pointing to his forehead. "What is this symbol?"
Jessica shook her head, confused. "...I think its a crown."
The Stars: Chapter 2
Oh, chapter 2.
Took me a few weeks. Work does that. But everytime I sat down, I just busted out an entire scene like it was nothing. 
God. Damn, it feels good to write this out. Its one of the original stories I've had since like 2007, but refitted to be less... Well immature, more structured, and overall as good to anyone reading as it is in my head.

Stay tuned!

James, Jessica, Marc (c) Me, qinop
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  • Mood: Zest
  • Listening to: This and that
  • Reading: Not much, sadly
  • Watching: Adventure Time
  • Playing: MtG, DnD. Wanna get back into BvS and Urban Rivals
Expect to see my fat ass and some of my friends on youtube in the next year.
Unless we shit the bed and never do it.
The little boy cried out, but they didn't listen. They never listened to what he or his parents said, so he didn't expect any different then. But as he watched his mother laying in the hay and dirt in front of him, blood soaking her shirt, he couldn't help it. He begged the king's men to stop, to leave him and his father alone.
With a sneer, they both ganged up on his father. His father gave it his all, and with his bare hands, put a dent into one of the soldier's noble-grade plate, but in the end it just was not enough. His ally had flanked his father and run him through with a sneer.
Dezmin whimpered and cried out again. The men just stepped closer to him, swords still bloody. 
One raised his sword up high and brought it down onto Dezmin's face.

oXo

Dezmin wasn't a strong man. The twenty years since he'd lost everything, he'd gained everything anew, lost some, and gained almost enough to replace it. And not one bit of that made him stronger. At least, that's not how he felt about himself as he swept the wood floor of his home. 
He stopped and leaned against the broom, resting his chin on the top. As a philosopher, cleric, and only priest of Skiin in the country of Delmin, Dezmin believed himself to be a more... Wise man, than strong. He shrugged and put the broom back to the wood, minding one of the two pews. He never understood why someone would want to be stronger than their means demanded; life only needs you to be as strong as your occupation demands after all.
Warriors and adventurers, those people were strong. Dezmin met a group once. After he convinced them he wasn't as hostile as his skin tone implied, they proved to be rather dull folk. They were terribly strong, but not wise or intellectual at all. The most wizened of them, a caster of some sort, seemed only knowledgeable in the best spells for destruction of monsters or removal of threats.
He sighed and sat down, holding the broom in his lap. He looked over to the statues of Skinzan and Shiika. The goat and the doe. He nodded to them, giving the usual short prayer whenever they caught his gaze.
"Thank you for this blessing."
He stared up to the ceiling and set the broom to the side, replacing it with a small blue book. He licked his lips and cracked it to the day's date, and set to reading the verses aloud. He stood as he read, walking to the front of the chapel, standing between the statues and facing the empty pews.
Upon completing the verses, he set the book back in his rear pocket and bowed his head. He set to return to his private chamber when a tremor jumbled his footing. He fell to a knee and looked to the open doorway, even as the quake continued.
Just out the door he could see... Something smoking and shining purple flying through the clear day sky, and heading to the south. His first thought came to him from his years of study of evil: the possibility of that thing being a flame geist, fire spirits who eat body heat and fly by to capture victims. Without any second thought, he jumped into his room and grabbed a pair of gunbelts. He swung them onto his hips with practiced skill even as he ran out of his home and in the direction of the flame geist.

oXo

After ten minutes of running, Dezmin was nearing the flame geist. Or what he suspected was not a flame geist; they do not land with a crash like this thing did.
With both aged guns equipped and loaded, he made a hesitant step into the crater, sliding down the dirt wall. He stopped next to the strange object, scrutinizing it as best he could without actually touching it. It glowed constantly and faintly with a ghastly purple energy that he couldn't quite place. To add to his confusion, the scent of blood was in the air, though he saw none. He fancied the idea that he had smithed some shoddy bullets and that he was smelling the iron, but his introspection was cut short when the object violently shook.
He jumped back, climbing halfway up the dirt wall, watching the object as it cracked open down the middle. He flinched, identifying the object as a nefarious minion egg - flying vehicles that transport large amounts of weaker demons and devils. The expected challenge wasn't what he feared; it was the fact that minion eggs are only used by the most powerful fiends.
He watched as the little imps and spirits escaped from the egg, and quickly sniped down two of the airborne spirits. His holy bullets destroyed them in a flash, exorcising them to the darker realms for the time being. He grunted and took a few shots at the hastey land bound imps, chastising himself for not wrapping his hands in cestus or at least bringing his sword. He would run out of bullets, and netherworldly types can harm mortals just by contact. He rolled back, keeping to his practiced trigger discipline.
With a snap of the heel, he stood up, and with a snap of the wrist, he shot down a pair of spirits who were just a moment before behind him. 
That was six, and there was at least twelve more. He took shots at the spirits, who seemed to want to escape from his fury. He wouldn't have it. Eight left, ten bullets. He watched the imps running towards him. He ran away, watching them as he reloaded his pistols. The two handed loading was probably the most useful skill he acquired from back then...
He stopped and stared down the imps. Eight of them.
"Darn." He cussed as the imps did what imps do; come together to make things worse. The remaining eight leaped onto each other and melted into two eight foot tall entities. 
With a groan, Dezmin ran forward, toward the left most ring leader (he knows what it's called when they combine) and slid between its legs, appearing behind it. Using the momentum, he gripped the ring leader's tail and climbed up onto its back. He cocked his guns and let loose three shots into the back of its head, letting it fall down dead.
The other ring leader roared down at him, getting spittle on his tunic. He shot at it, aiming mostly for the eyes, as his studies have told him would be effective. It was. Ring leaders have eight eyes, but all of them bleed profusely. Grazing just one would blind it instantly.
The ring leader roared out, swinging wildly at where it thought Dezmin was. 
However, Dezmin was casually reloading off to the side, humming just softer than the roars of the ring leader. After finishing, he swung forward with six shots into its side and holstered his guns in the same motion.
Dezmin let the quickly rotting monsters lay there as he walked home.
He couldn't help but wonder what could have sent over twenty minions in one egg and escape his notice.

oXo

Dezmin laid his gunbelts down next to his other weapons. He practiced weapons in his youth. It was good exercise. Also helps keep goblin and gnoll raiders at bay.
He sat down at his desk and removed his bestiary from his small shelf. He needed to know what sent that egg, and how worried he should be. And why the gods didn't alert him sooner. And what the meaning of the quake was.
"Hello?"
He looked up from the page about dire animals. That sounded like a voice.
"Anyone here?"
Dezmin stood up and straightened out his clothes. He took a breath and cleared his throat and exited his private chambers, entering into the chapel.
There he saw a young woman, standing shorter than he, with thick silky blond hair. She dressed in white, and wore strange white leather shoes. She appeared strange to him. But that mattered little as Dezmin put on a smile and calmly walked towards her.
"Welcome, my dear, to the temple of Skiin. I am Dezmin."
She smiled, beaming bright white teeth at him. "Oh you must be the priest here."
He nodded, his showy smile turning genuine. "I am. Can I help you?"
She rapidly nodded and reached into the pocket of her tiny shorts. She produced a golden scroll and handed it to him. "I was sent to lead you on a quest! Isn't that exciting?"
Dezmin frowned and grasped the golden scroll. He eyed it for a moment then looked at her. She had... A strange air about her. She had light, delicate features; long blond hair, fair white skin, pearly white teeth, a short stature. She seemed like a very young girl turned adult. Dezmin didn't have much experience in such matters, but if he had to venture a guess, he'd say people would call her cute. But that strangeness made him curious. It was very familiar and at the same time alien, and that alone was suspicious.
He had no idea what to make of this.
He opened the scroll and brought it up to his field of vision.
"Dezmin. We have watched you for many years now. Your struggles have been monumental, and your growth herculean. We ask you to embark on a crusade for us, alongside this young angel. The world is endangered by the seven kings of the underworld. As the most powerful priest of our cause in the country, we ask you to stop their evil plotting. We will reward you with what you've always wanted if you complete this campaign."
Instead of a signature, there were drawings of the moon and a leaf.
Dezmin slowly rolled up the parchment. He took a deep breath, staring off into space. The seven evil kings are the most powerful devils. He could never hope to kill them on his own. Maybe trick them. Maybe confuse them. Entrap them. His current level of power was not up to snuff...
He looked to the girl. She was speaking. She apparently had been speaking for a while.
"Gold. But you can call me Mary. I hope we have fun on this quest!" She bounced on the balls of her toes, holding her hands together in front of her.
He just stared at her for a second, processing her. She probably belied a more powerful entity. That must be how he was expected to win, with her help. Made perfect sense. "We leave this evening." He walked back into the chapel to prepare, leaving Mary quietly standing in the doorway.

oXo

After a good dinner and grabbing his sword, axe, bow and quiver, gunbelts, and sliding his consecrated cestus on, Dezmin looked over to Mary the angel. She looked back at him from a dinner potato she was nibbling on. 
"I'm ready."
She put down her dinner and wiped her face before jumping out of the chair. "Yay!" She bounced over next to Dezmin. "I'm also ready!"
Dezmin ventured a smile at her energy. It had been a while since anyone cheered in his vicinity. He motioned her over. "Do you know where to go? If not, I believe the crash site would give us some information."
She nodded. "Oh yes, I know where all seven of them are."
Dezmin was taken aback. Visibly so, in fact. "You... You know where all seven of the evil kings are?" He felt sort of limp. That was entirely too convenient.
Mary winked with her tongue out. "You bet! I'm an expert on locating evil things!" With a soft pop, Mary was replaced with a diminutive version of herself, which floated onto Dezmin's shoulder. "I'll tell you which way to go, and whenever something sneaks up on you! I'm helpful like that."
Dezmin looked at the little fairy. He nodded. "Alright, Mary. Where are we going?"
"The forest!" She jumped up, holding up her finger.
"Agital Forest?"
"The south forest!" She jumped up again, pointing south.
Dezmin nodded confirmation and ran out of the chapel, heading south.

oXo

Lucifer chuckled softly to himself. The huge and gorgeous king of Pride sat on his throne of gold, surrounded by the most beautiful women of all races, looking into a huge crystal pane which was surrounded by six other, smaller, crystal panes.
Reflected in its surface was a dark skinned man equipped with a small armory of weapons, running through the grass. The others just had dark figures.
"Run all you want, warrior. My plans are far too along for one man to dismantle!" He threw his head back, blond tresses falling over the back of his throne with the motion as he let out a mighty roar of laughter. The women around him joined, along with the shadows in the other crystal panes.
He rocked forward and shouted with a sneer, "I'll be waiting, you pitiful little man!"

UNTIL NEXT TIME
Chores/Work/Duty
Number 2 in the list of stories James has wanted to write but never found the mojo.
Until now.
I've written quite a few pieces about Dezmin already, actually, so maybe you already know this one? Its fine if you do, I just wanted to write it proper instead of the artsy ways I've been throwing the guy around.
I still hope I can one day make this into a video game. That'll be the day. It was always meant to be a hack-n-slash like GoW or DMC, but ya know. With a wholly good mane character.
If I continue writing I promise not to make it read like one of those games. Unless it feels right, of course.
Yeah anyway, enjoy.
Dezmin, Mary, this story, this setting (c) qinop
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qinop
James Collette
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I'm just here to spread the art, one piece at a time.
I don't care if I get famous. I don't care if I get rich.
I just want to share stories with everyone.
Interests
  • Mood: Zest
  • Listening to: Music
  • Reading: Epic length fanfics
  • Watching: Nothing
  • Playing: I still want to get back into BvS and UR.
I'm accepting commissions on writings.

2 cents per word.

Payment by paypal.

I cap at 1500 words for now.

Inquire within.

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Nao-Dignity Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2014
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HBD! :party:
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Happy Birthday!
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Hi, sweetie~ <3
I knew I'd find your DA eventually. lol :3
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Thank you so much for the fav! ^ ^
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Oh ja ja, no problem mate
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Happy bday yo!;p
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qinop Featured By Owner May 18, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks ^_^
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:iconbigorca107:
BigOrca107 Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2012  Professional Artisan Crafter
Katawa Broujo.
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