Disclaimer! I do NOT own Magi or the characters(Rights of these are reserved for Shinobu Ohtaka), besides my OC and this little twisted story. Alright, I decided to just continue my story to see where it leads and get the hang of writing. So enjoy~ OC POV: I felt like I was on a cloud, but why? I shot my eyes open and sat up. I couldn't see too well since it was pretty dark in the room besides a tall window on the other side of the room casting faint moonlight inside. My eyes adjusted enough to make out the room was quite large and I was lying on a fancy king sized bed. I looked down at myself with panicked thoughts 'Why am I naked? What happened, and where in the hell am I?!' Then I remembered.'Oh yeah, Heliohapt soldiers attacked me.. I collapsed from using so much magoi, but that still doesn't explain my situation now...' I was pondering my what was going on, when I suddenly felt another presence in the room. …show more content…
'Damn it I almost forgot I have nothing but this bed sheet right now' thinking to myself. I called out to whoever was hiding in the shadows "Show yourself I know you're there" I heard a man chuckle then step into the faint moonlight. I looked at him with squinted eyes to and make out his features. From what I could see at the moment, he had black, medium length hair with a long segmented braid going all the way down to his ankles. He wore clothes of Indian origin that shows off his muscular figure. He also spots gold bangle bracelets that reach to his elbows and one on his neck with a ruby in the center. With the way the moon light hit his face a swear his red ringed eyes were glowing. He stared arms crossed with a smirk on his face and said. "It's about time you got up, girl. I've been waiting forever, I was starting to get annoyed, but now that youre finally
This mask belongs to the minor character Mercutio; consequently, its main colors are orange, brown, and green because he is flamboyant, reliable, and young. To begin with, the color orange represents Mercutio’s most recognizable and dominant trait: flamboyance. It is exhibited most in his Queen Mab monologue, “Oh, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you./She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes/In shape no bigger than an agate stone/On the forefinger of an alderman/Drawn with a team of little atomies...And in this state she gallops night by night/Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love...This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,/That presses them and learns then first to bear,/Making them women of good carriage,”(Act I, Scene 4, lines 53-57, 70-71, 92-94).
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered with an inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my friend’s amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look th...
At the same time: Snap-Whoosh-Growl-Snap-Whoosh-Growl! Return with a fierceness, causing the rest of the men to separate into two groups with some moving to the left in search of the origin of the beastly sounds and the others moving to the right, combining their numbers with those searching for their missing brethren, while Gottlieb stays behind.
School was coming to an end and I thought about how Scout’s teacher didn't want her to read. I couldn't stop reading I enjoyed it too much and so did scout, I wondered if I would have reacted the same way scout did. One day after coming home from school, I saw scout with a Big stash of gum. After she told me how she got it, I started thinking the worst since I am her older Brother. I knew to scout was stubborn and wasn't going to get rid of it so I threaten her by telling her that I would tell Cal which is a fight scout wasn't up to fight. Why would there be gum in a tree and why was it out of all places in the Radley tree? We waited until what was forever for school to be over and for Dill to come. After all Dill had become a close friend
He strolled by a police patrolled park about six blocks from his apartment. The park, as it was on most nights, was completely empty. He turned down a short side street in order to loop back to his apartment when he first noticed him. At the far end of the street, on his side, was a silhouette of a man. He was a very slender man with long arms and legs. He had what looked like a very slim fitting, tailored, pinstripe suit. It was hard for him to make out the face. He didn’t think anything of it and thought it was just muddled lush.
Our backs hunched over as we started lifting sustainable sandbags with our drained muscular arms onto a dark wooden shelf. The scorching sun heated up the unswept metal fence behind us. Our feet were burning as we stood on the blistering concrete floor. We were sweating from every inch of our dried out body’s. Looking around the isolated area the smell of freshly cut grass starts to fill up in the atmosphere. The crinkled brown autumn leaves abandoned the thin branches sticking out from the ancient oak tree stood in front of us. A mysterious slim figure approached us from the distance. As the strange shadow got closer to me I could see a velvet red knee high dress blowing in the wind; bright red lipstick on a slim face, it became clear to me that it was Curley’s wife! Her devilish eyes looked deep into our sole as she stroked silky, exotic hair with her perfectly painted, red finger nails. “Hey boys” she called. I looked away with no interest; Lennie followed my lead. Her face went from a cheery smile to a sulky frown and she bashfully strolled
Prologue 2015 – Villa Forenza Senior Apartments Las Vegas, Nevada You would think that a woman surrounded by so much drama in life, wouldn’t go nuts over people knowing she was found catatonic—but you'd be wrong. When ‘Crazy Ava’ learned that the biddies of Villa Forenza had stared right inside of her door as paramedics treated her, she was livid. “You were directly inside the open door, lying on the couch,” Blanche Davis told her. Blanche was a woman who had been in style a century ago.
The door slowly creaks open and a tall, dark figure slips into the room. He leans against the wall and runs his fingers through his wild hair in a vain attempt to straighten it. The man pushes off the wall, slowly walks over to the moonlit piano, and slouches onto the piano bench, his head in his hands. The moon’s beams stream through the gaps in fingers creating lines of light and darkness, giving him the appearance of a prisoner peering out of the bars in a prison cell. Unfortunately, he is a prisoner, bound by the chains in his own heart.
I don't know what I did wrong. I asked Amir agha, but he said I hadn't done anything. I would have stopped doing it, then maybe Father and I wouldn't have left. Before the kite tournament, Amir was my best friend, and we would always play together, but then he didn't want me around any more. I don't know why.
It was a man leaning on a cane wearing black slacks, a sleek red coat; one a magician would wear, white gloves, and a black top hat. His skin color was brilliant blue, and had the face of the devil with a skinny black mustache. The man’s red eyes stared wide into Shawns eyes, with a creepy smile. Shawn starred back, not knowing what to do.
Murr, Dominic Ms. Newton 2/20/24. The Hypocrisy of “The American Dream” Perspectives about the American Dream vary based on one’s experiences. Our perspective is how different our nation is compared to how we read about the way Thomas Jefferson intended the Declaration of Independence to look and sound, as well as how hypocritical Jefferson was when writing the Declaration’s outlines, and imagining this country’s future. The American Dream is double-sided, and does not do as those who wrote it declare.
Just around 10:30 p.m. Martha Jones prepared herself to get ready for bed. Brushing her teeth, washing her face, and getting into the appropriate clothing. She couldn’t seem to get something off of her mind, she had noticed that for the past couple of days that a strange man dressed in all black had been following her. Tonight the strange and mysterious man followed her home just walking on the opposite side of the street as her, not letting his eyes off of her watching as she enters her home and shutting the creaky door behind her.
My stomach retched, my throat dry, had I got myself into this mess? A distant thud echoed across the cold, hard floor, ricocheting into my ear. Someone was coming.
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).