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Summer Art Contest! (Winners Announced!)
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17 / M / Palatine, Illinois
Posted 7/25/15 , edited 7/25/15

Words: 1347 Not as much as others but I wanted to keep mine to a simple scenario
Category: Romance
Anime: I based the storyline from Trinity 7 but changed up some things. Such as the MC's personality. Character Names are also different.


Main Story

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29 / M / USA! USA! USA!
Posted 7/25/15

AnimeKami wrote:

My name is AnimeKami. This is my entry.

Well, we all know loli lie.

I need to write a story!
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24 / M
Posted 7/25/15 , edited 7/25/15
Title: Kat Island
Genre: Drama
Words 1994

I couldn't think of any suitable anime characters, so I chose to just set it in Japan. I hope that's okay!

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26 / M / Canada
Posted 7/25/15
Cried Residuum

“So it’s tomorrow then?” I asked him as we both sat under a tree smoking.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

We sat there for a while, neither of us knowing what to say. We only had one more day for this kinda thing, just a relaxing do-nothing-day where all we had was each other and no one would bother us for hours.

I clenched his hand tightly, not wanting to let go of it. It wasn’t fair that the two of us would be ripped apart in such a horrible way. His draft had come up and he was going to be gone tomorrow, “Do you really have to do it? Is there no way out of it?”

He squeezed my hand back and when I looked at him there were the beginnings of tears. We embraced and I could feel our two bodies coming together, if only for that moment, the warmth was almost suffocating and yet, at that moment I didn’t want to be anywhere else but in his arms, “You know that I don’t want to go through with this either, but the draft is law. If I don’t go, they’ll come after me anyways, and you don’t deserve that kind of life. You deserve to keep living.”

“You say that like you’re not coming back Itami,” the thought alone almost caused me to choke, “But you will come back, you’ll come back from this stronger than ever. You have to come back to me.”

He smiled, that sort of smile where the warmth and light never quite reaches your eyes and so it is even more apparent that you’re lying. He stood up and stubbed out his cigarette on the tree stump, “You’re right, I will come back and when I do, I will never leave your side again.”

He was gone for ten years before I saw him again.

The world had changed in the years since the Draft. The town that we had been raised in, once so alive and bustling with activity and people, was a shadow of its former self. The young ones, my age and the generation after, had all left, the jobs had dried up and the place slowly fell into disrepair. I had went to university for a while, pursued my doctorate, but when my mother caught leukaemia I was forced to put that on hold.

It seems now, that despite all this hardship, I was happy. My mother was recovering and while the town was dying, the land around it seemed more alive than ever before. Perhaps this was how things were meant to be. Peacefully lonely.

Life changes quickly though, I found one night, as I heard a loud crashing outside of my door. Opening the door slowly, I nearly fainted at the sight of my old lover lying at my doorstep. He hadn’t shaved for a while, a patchy stubble had formed, he had lost all the weight and muscle from his draft preparation and his hair had fallen out in patches, but I recognized him none the less. He was back, just like he said he would be and I almost cried right then and there.

He was barely conscious and I helped him into my home, he was surprisingly light, as if he hadn’t eaten for days. Placing him gently on the couch, I fetched a cup of warm wine and a blanket from my own bed. He had a slight fever and vomited more than once before I could get him to keep some of the wine down. His eyes were half shut, one from exhaustion and the other from a black eye and bruises that stained most of his right side of his face. There were traces of blood on his face from the numerous cuts and I dabbed at them gently with a cloth.

“Itami…” I couldn’t stop the tears as I laid my head on his chest, which was finally breathing normally. We just stayed like that, I stayed as long as I could because it felt like if I moved, even for one moment, he would be gone again and I would be alone.

The next few days gave me almost no time to myself as I was busy taking care of two sick people. My mother’s treatment was easy enough, since the doctors had said that she had responded well to the Chemo treatment. Rest and good food were my job and so I prepared her a light breakfast of hot cereal and diced fruit.

Itami’s treatment was a little more difficult. I couldn’t take him to the doctor’s clinic in town due to the nature of his appearance and so I spent most of my time with him. I had managed to procure an IV drip for his nutritional needs, as well as some bottled water that the clinic gave me for my mother. He didn’t wake up though, it was almost as if he was so tired at that point, that his body had almost given up. I decided that if he hadn’t woken up by the end of the week I would chance the doctor and hope I had enough to bribe him not to say anything.

Itami didn’t wake up and now it was the final day of the week. As I watched the slow IV drip administer what supplements and aid he needed, my eyes watered, a mixture of exhaustion and emotion and like the first night, I rested my head on his chest.

I could feel his heartbeat and hear the slow rasps of breath he took, “Itami,” I began, “It’s been too long you know. I waited for a long time before I left the town, even stayed for a year after I finished school. We were sixteen when you left me, but it wasn’t a highschool fling that we had. I’ve stayed for you, I haven’t dated, and I haven’t fooled around, even those 7 years of university. I waited.”

For a moment, it was as if he was awake, as his hand moved to mine and clenched it tightly, so much that it was painful, but I held it anyways, it was contact that we hadn’t had in years, but before long it had let go once again.

I spoke again and I knew I was crying., his shirt, a size too large soaked up the tears and I could smell the slight bit of salt remaining in them, “I loved you, no I still love you and I’m so glad you finally came back to me. I was scared, terrified that we would be separated forever by your goddamn draft, but we’re here again. We’re going to make you strong again and we’ll live here and they’ll never come for you. We’ll stay here as we get older and our love will never wane. I know this, I know that we’ll be together forever now that you’re back. I’m so happy you’re back Itami, now please, please wake up.”

It is getting late now and I have to get some more groceries before the shops close. I stand up and I kiss his forehead before shutting off the lights and leaving the house. It doesn’t take long for me to get the food and medicine I need and I begin to head back to the house, ignoring the stares of Enforcement, looking at a woman who is outside for too late for her own good. I find myself rushing to the door.

I open my door and a stench overtakes me. It smells wet and metallic. The lights are out and I flick the switch a few times before giving up and striking a match from the book in my pocket. The faint light reveals that there is no longer anyone sleeping on the couch. I want to panic and shout out to him, but Enforcement could be around so I restrain myself.

“Itami?” I slightly question the darkness in front of me, hoping to elicit some sort of response, but nothing happens.

I can hear the sink dripping and that confuses me because we haven’t used the water in a few days due to a toxin scare from the next town. I feel my way into the kitchen and run my hand over the faucet and despite still hearing the steady drip of spilling liquid, the sink is dry.

“Mom?” there’s still no response and I’m starting to get really nervous because while it is getting late, she was usually still awake, waiting for an evening snack of some sort.

I light another match and use it to guide me to my mother’s room. The metallic, damp stink was getting worse as I futilely try her light switch. I trip over something and start crawling to her bed. My hands are drenched in liquid and I know what it is but I don’t want to believe. My hands reach hers and her body is already colder than it should be. My hands reach her face and half of it is missing. Her jaw is completely gone and when my eyes finally adjust, I look at my mother and I can see that her eyes have burst vessels and I know that she was awake and aware when this happened.

I fall backwards into the sticky mess and I grasp blindly at anything. I feel my mother’s hand and I hold it tightly before realising that my mother is still on the bed and the arm is by the desk. I am unable to contain myself anymore and I scream and sob loudly.

I stand up quickly and I can feel the weight of my mother’s blood soaked into my clothes and I retch once before staying myself. I brace myself against the wall and leave a long smear of gore and blood on it. My head feels light, none of this feels real and there’s a voice in my head screaming for me to run.

I take a few tentative steps back into the main room where I look frantically for the way out. I hear the smashing of something, like a dropped glass and I freeze, listening for anything, but I can’t hear it over my gasping breaths. I see a light, faint from the other side of the house and I see hollow eyes behind the small flame and a crooked smile that doesn’t reach them.

The lamp falls to the floor and wood easily catching on fire. He walks towards me and I am paralyzed, trapped in this spot helpless as his fingers work their way around my neck and compress slowly but with one purpose. To take the life out of me. The flames around us grow higher and for a moment he almost looks like a demon to me. I can see now, that Itami is dead.

The voice is a rasp and it doesn’t even sound like him anymore, “Save me, save me, save me…” and it just goes on and on again, louder and louder. I can feel the life being squeezed out of me and I’m crying because it is all I can do at this point. I can see, barely that he is crying too and I don’t know why he’s crying, it’s the end of everything and how was this happening and-

The escaped target was found in a village five hours away. At current time of writing, he had been out of the facility for almost three full days. The project has been terminated, the subject erased and the village cleansed.

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Posted 7/25/15 , edited 7/26/15
From what I understand art is its own category for this, but if I were to choose one I would say adventure. Come on first!
Done with microns, prismacolor, and pencil

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17 / M / Palatine, Illinois
Posted 7/25/15 , edited 7/25/15

Punk_Mela wrote:

From what I understand art is its own category for this, but if I were to choose one I would say adventure. Come on first!

T_T I'd probably do horrible things to acquire your art skills...
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Posted 7/25/15

SelfConsciousParadox wrote:
T_T I'd probably do horrible things to acquire your art skills...

Lol practice can be pretty horrible. Trust me though if I could find a crossroads demon you wouldn't be alone in doing horrible things to get better.

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Posted 7/25/15
That Day that Never Came

"Come here! Arima? Hey, over here!", shouted a voice. Arima glanced up and saw Kaori standing there. She was wearing her same pink dress that she always wore. "Are you asleep?", she asked. "Well, no. I'm not.", he replied.

They walked together, side by side until they reached the park. "Today's lovely right?", Kaori said. "It sure is.", Arima replied.

"Ooh! A cat!", said Kaori. She ran after it. Arima's eyed shuddered and turned blank. "Chelsea!!?" He thought that she died already but, he snapped out of it and decided to catch up to Kaori. She stood there, holding the cat in her arms. "Look! A cat! Isn't it cute? Here! You hold it!" She gave it to Arima quickly.

"It is kinda cute, I guess.", said Arima. The cat then quickly scratched Arima and hopped out of his arms.

"Look what you did!", said Kaori. She ran after the cat again. Arima chased Kaori who chased the cat.

The cat dashed onto the streets where a truck was coming. Kaori almost stepped onto the street but suddenly, Arima grabbed her arm. She stopped.

Then, the truck struck the cat.

Tears streamed down Kaori's face. "No!", she screamed. Arima stood blankly again, but eventually came to his senses. He said to Kaori,"one day, everyone will disappear right? It's part of mother nature." "You're right", she responded. She rubbed her face with her sleeve and grabbed Arima's hand. "Let's go to my home."

"What??!", he said blushing. She dashed to the bakery while dragging Arima.

Kaori leaned up into Arima's ear and whispered, "thank you...for saving my life."

After those words, his memories flashed before him. His mother, Chelsea, and Kaori all appeared before him. They said, "sorry, but we have to go now."

"Wait!!!" Arima screamed. Tears ran down his face and he screamed wait softer and softer, until the fell to his knees.

One by one, they faded into cherry blossom petals.

"Why? Why do they have to disappear?"

Suddenly, he jolted up on his bed. "Thank goodness it was all a dream." He grabbed the photo frame that was sitting on his desk and smiled. "I wish I've could've spend more time with you. Thank you, Kaori."

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24 / M / Free World Jail
Posted 7/26/15

I spent a little bit (a lot actually lol) of the past two weeks in Paint drawing this. Wasn't too confident at times, but i felt i captured the summer theme pretty well with it. Hopefully this moe Nico goes over well!
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23 / M
Posted 7/26/15
I had a hard time deciding whether to use an image or write a story.
Unfortunately I'm not great at both, but here you go rofl.
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23 / F / ヽ(´▽`)ノ
Posted 7/26/15 , edited 7/26/15
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28 / F / UK
Posted 7/26/15 , edited 7/30/15
Entry: Visual Arts!

My entry is a big picture, hence the spoiler tag for compactness
The picture is of two people clashing it out with swords (so totally PG-rated :>) Enjoy desu!

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29 / M / USA! USA! USA!
Posted 7/26/15
Title: Living The Dream

Category: Action

Word Count: 1972

Living The Dream

Life is but a dream.

You have always remembered those words, if only because they are the only things you can remember. Here, now, then and again. Time and space? If you can’t remember the world as it was, can you dream the world as it should be? And if one can, does that mean you can dream the world as it is? Isn’t that what following ones’ dream means?


You are awakened by the sensation of your arms being pinned down onto the bed sheets. Silky strands of honey-scented hair tickle your nose. You open your eyes. You don’t even glimpse her face as she leans in, pressing her warmth against you, the hotness of her breath tingling your neck.


You mumble a name. Kirino?

She responds by purring and pressing harder.

“Ah-ahhhhhhh-ahhh Onii-chan. I got. You. Up.”

You roll out from beneath her with the force of shame and stumble backwards onto the floor. On the bed she leans forward, back arched, hair tussled up and giving the impression of cat ears. But those eyes. As wide and bright as the new moon, filling her face so that her nose, if you can call it that, appears a small snub. Forcing yourself away from her groping gaze the room reels around you indistinct and hazy as if your imagination had run out of budget. Running your hands through your hair you wordlessly grimace in pain, as if poking a cactus. The mirror reveals your hair to be akin to the spike pits of the jungles of Bora-Bora. Kirino lazily rolls onto her back and reveals the low cut of her blouse with the same practiced motion of a cheap Hollywood actor smiling at their reflection, preparing for their money shot.

“You better be grateful I woke you up, you were gonna be late.”

She makes no effort to get off your bed, however.

You catch her pouting as you make your way out the door.

* * *

Racing along the streets, you nibble the toast hanging from your mouth which your imouto so loving prepared. You glance at your watch, and decide to take a shortcut through the alley. Lunging out of the darkness, an orange-yellow rat the size of a basketball steals your mouth-toast and scurries away, its frenzied screech of pika-pika-squeak echoing along the alley. It stops to hiss at some loli waddling towards school, and you punt it towards the moon. You make it to class as the bell rings. Your childhood friend glares at you, her red ribbon snaking around agitatedly. You look down at the beaming faces of the appreciative loli. You try to tell Chitoge it isn’t what it appears, but she mouths the word baka anyways as the loli wander off to play with coloring books in the back of the classroom. The teacher introduces the mysterious transfer student. You cannot tell what is redder, her hair or your face as she walks over and slaps you, calling you baka. Ah, Asuka. No, you don’t recall the promise you made. No, if you were in sync with one another she wouldn’t slap you. What do you mean she had your Second Child already?! Chitoge releases her limiter, the ribbon hitting the floor with a thud. Baka baka baka BAKA baka BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA she shouts, transforming into a giant Great Golden Ape. Roaring, she smashes through the roof as she completes her transformation and a hand the size of a bus swoops down, grabbing you. BAKA BAKA BAKA she shouts, the force of her fury causing the school to tremble as you are assaulted by repeated sonic booms. The loli continue to color. She opens her mouth and with a BAKA filled with the repressed desires of childhood friends everywhere, blasts you with a laser beam.

Wispy smoke drifts off of you and you now have distinct tan lines, but other than that you are unharmed. Chitoge, calm now, sets you down and reverts to human. Asuka berates you for flirting with other girls. You stop and stare at her, asking why she has her skirt hiked above school regulations. She tries to stifle a nervous laugh. You shout over the loud grinding of the lolis’ crayons, telling her just how transparently two-dimensional she is. You take your seat back by the window. The sun is in your eyes and you wonder how anyone ever gets any work done sitting here though you realize it doesn’t help that the school no longer has a roof.

A dark shadow looms over you. Peering upwards you try to discern the object hurtling towards the school. You realize what it is.

A Mysterious Girl Falls From The Clouds.

Leaping off your desk, you find yourself in midair before even questioning your decision but, no, this is what heroes do, what people who become the protagonists of their life’s story do. Challenge conformity.

Defy gravity.

Save The Girl.

You spin around and around in the air, inching closer. Clothes whipped by the wind. Her mouth is wide and open and trembling. You cannot hear her over the wind. Clouds race by and the spinning curvature of the earths’ horizon instills vertigo.

You cannot reach her.

You are parallel on a two-dimensional plane, forever running circles around logic and blame and guilt, a line was drawn somewhere sometime and it was crossed so now your paths are never crossing, perhaps you just didn’t see things from the right angle, perpetually apart----

You cannot touch her.

-----you cannot recall a time or a place where you ever were one, memories of togetherness are but a dream. A flight of fancy. There is no point to meet and no point in meeting now and if there ever was point to any of this it has been long abandoned and all that is left is pantomime. Here, a trope. There, a cliché. Giant sweat drop.

Sorry I walked in on you nude.

Studio applause.

You never could reach her.

Teardrops slip loose from her eyes and defy gravity to soar upwards, sparkling in the sun like shooting stars.

* * *

She had always said you were down-to-earth. You look around. Chitoge and Asuka argue in the roofless schoolroom. You wonder if Kirino is still pouting on your bed. The loli wave to you. Birds chirp nearby. Orange-yellow rats dash around nearby bushes. The earth is calm and still beneath your feet.

A Giant Robot Falls From The Clouds.

You climb into the robot. Try to forget the girl. Pew pew pew. Kaboom! BUY THE MODEL KIT! Human emotion replaced by serene plasticine models and the grey morality of the world deposed by Technicolor rainbows blooming on the battlefield.

In space opera, no one can hear you scream.

Oh no. The part about politics and the nature of humanity. Boring. Good night, sweet Prince Casval, counting Red Comets until slumber betakes you.

You awake at school. Laying inside the roofless classroom you watch red shooting stars blaze by above. The heavens become obscured by a red-gold veil. Your childhood friend leans down over you, and opens her mouth to confess. You glance at your watch, hoping that it’s late enough to not worry about intruding passerby, government censors, or parental watchdog groups. She takes off her blouse. Light beams from the moon shining above obscure her breasts. You curse the heavens. She moves to embrace you. Moonbeams replaced by Blu-rays?!

You shout for joy.

The door to the classroom is blasted off its hinges and desks fly towards you and the childhood friend. Your imouto stands in the doorway, wielding a hammer twice her size.

“Onii-chan. You would make a dreadful mistake sleeping with her. So I came to wake you UP!”

You slowly try to back away, but she relentlessly strides forth, swinging the hammer-----

A Scene Transition Falls From The Clouds.

Your toes dig into the soft warm sand. The calming lull of the ocean beckons. The loli build sandcastles. Your childhood friend awkwardly stammers, wondering if her bikini looks okay before going to play in the waves. Your imouto lays on a beach blanket, staring at you through half-closed eyes, asking you to apply some sunscreen.

Is this happiness?

The heavens darken. The ocean recedes. Your childhood friend limply drops her beach ball, rolling across the rocky, barren plain where the seas once sparkled. The moon groans as it turns and turns and turns, a cosmic cog disjointed. Red comets rain down in the distance. The earth trembles. Your imouto scrapes her skin raw, rubbing sunscreen in ceaselessly. The loli build a sand Tower of Babel.

What’s going on, you shout.

We’ve been canceled, your childhood friend moans.

How could this happen? Weren’t your hug-pillows SELLING, you howl.

The loli shriek, and the wind weeps with their wailing.

The moon revolves further and comes to a halt, revealing a distorted and decrepit face.

Manga-kami is dead, your childhood friend cries. [Translators note: God is dead.]

An enormous hand rises above the horizon, riding the wave of returning ocean and smashes into the beach, gouging the earth until it comes to a shuddering halt like a vast, bloated beached whale. Rising from the sewers in the street near the beach swarm a horde of orange-yellow rats which descend upon the loli, pika-pika-squeak OM NOM NOM.

You try to run over to your childhood friend, but your feet are slashed repeatedly by the cheap stock paper of the rushed final volume of the canceled manga. You believe you see her laughing hysterically and pulling her hair out, but the world has become obscured by the blotchy cheap toner the manga has been printed on, and you cannot be certain.

You look around desperately for a way out.

A Golden Ladder Descends From The Clouds.

Perhaps you had managed to become a popular enough character to get your own spin-off. You begin to climb the ladder. You look down at those you are leaving behind. You hesitate, and they see you. The eyes of your imouto and childhood friend go wide in fear, glimmer with hope, then flash with rage. Your imouto says family should stay together. Your childhood friend puts on an alluring miniskirt. You vehemently shake your head no. You wonder if you should reach a hand down, but you grip the ladder too tightly to move. Snarling, they begin to ascend themselves. Frozen by fear you cannot move. They reach you but instead of trying to climb up attempt to pull you down. The ladder shakes and sways. On instinct and animal rage you kick kick kick baka baka BAKA BAKA BAKAS FALL.

You manage to get a glimpse up your childhood friends’ miniskirt as she plummets before the view is obscured by heavenly rays. The golden ladder ascends into the clouds, accompanied by a heavenly chorus of character songs and J-Pop. In this moment, you are euphoric. Surrounded by clouds, feeling weightless, the soft pale curves of the clouds, of falling, of clouds drifting by, of falling, falling, falling, falling, falling through the clouds---

You look around. Your pale white dress flutters in the wind as you fall. You always hated that dream where you were A Mysterious Girl Falling From The Clouds. Spinning and spinning and spinning you look up at the stars twinkling, smiling at you as they recede. Clouds part before you as you fall. You spin and spin and spin faster and faster as you plummet. Surely your Prince will catch you. The ground rushes up to meet you.

Surely you and he will meet.

There is nothing in your way now.

There is nothing between you but lies and guilt and blame.

This is the world you wanted.

Surely he will catch you, right----------

The End

Authors Commentary:

There is a feeling of sadness that comes upon waking from a dream, or when a good anime is over. Yet in commenting on, or analyzing, anime, do we not contribute to "slaying" the dream of the author, of taking it for ourselves and getting from it what we desire? Of imposing our dream onto theirs? In this sense, writing a story utilizing the characters of another is similar. The sadness becomes Schadenfreude.

Similarly, reading fan fics (or any sort of writing) one once wrote can elicit similar feelings. Schadenfreude arises from just not being able to look away from the mess that are those old fan fics of ours. Instead of slaying the dream of another author, our own works repudiate ourselves.

When does a dream become a nightmare? When does sadness become pain become pleasure become all the same thing?

But, in reality, is it sadness?

Or is the story about that illicit thrill, about the search for Action?

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29 / M / UK
Posted 7/26/15
Written Entry

Time was fast approaching a critical junction, and the clock had my undivided attention. Tick, tock, tick… tock! A resounding clang chimed and it signaled the start of my mission.

Due to my earlier, questionable defeat, I inherited this weighty responsibility.

I got up, took a deep breath, and leapt over the hurdles with deft precision. I had made this same journey far too many times to count, which reflected on how many times I had lost a game of simple probability with hands – “cheaters” I mumbled. But I’m a sportsman, so I must be gracious not only when I win, but when I lose as well. I soldiered on.

I dashed, meandered around would-be obstacles, and relied upon my reflexes and muscle memory to take me to the zone of interest, ignoring the usual, reactionary bellowing of some disciplinary tyrant.

Then I arrived at… the arena.

The stakes were high. Failure was not an option, which experience has cruelly ingrained into the trauma section of not just my memories, but those of my teammates, who shared the same fate.

Just by my hearing and peripheral vision alone, I could see that the difficulty was again set to maximum.

“They’re counting on me - I can’t fail them again!” I shouted, stressed. The fingers of my hands were interlocked behind the upper back of my head, where my palms rested.

Whilst lamenting my misfortune, my mind wandered back to what my teammates said to me after it was decided that I was to execute the operation; the pats on my back, the shouts of encouragements, their desperate, pleading looks in their eyes…

Suddenly, a familiar other-worldly experience enveloped my entire senses.

The angry cacophony of the writhing beast in front of me drowned out from my ears and my vision was reduced to black and white with only two visual foci: the giant, dark beast and just beyond it – the critical trade area. Bizarrely enough, red sparks of lightning arcs started to flow out of my eyes, but I had expected it; it meant that I was in complete control of my body, and that it was going to perform at 100%.

Whilst I initiated my sprint, I ordered my right hand to shoot immediately into my trouser pocket, and prised several round objects that were representations of tangible trust. I kept a firm grip – they were absolutely necessary for the trade – the goal of my task.

My feet shot off like a cannon, and my body pierced through the air, gaining speed. The monster grew louder, but ignored my attacking motions.

This is it - my instincts told me that the right timing was now. I made a mini jump forward, landed on my two feet, crouched down – and leapt up high.
All the stored potential energy was converted to kinetic energy in that moment and propelled me up one, two, four… seven feet high, over the monster.
It seemingly noticed me, as all its curious eyes re-focused from the zone to the flying human.

Wasting no time, at the apex of my jump, I reflexively fired the round objects into the critical zone. With the sheer force I applied to them, they had a moment where they looked like comets with blue trails, and, like comets that meet with surfaces, it created a mini impact crater.

I easily vaulted over the beast, landed like a cat near the front of the crater, then slammed my right palm onto a sturdy surface around it and verbally listed off my requested items to the dealer, with an arrogant victory smirk on my face.

“You failed, huh?” My captain enquired, noticing the obvious lack of items in my hands, the giant, disciplinary lump protruding from my head, and the general battered state of my appearance. I nodded with a downcast countenance. He patted my back in pity, and let out a long sigh.

As teammates, as brothers, we made a vow from the beginning to engage in the rewards or punishments simultaneously, whatever they may be. We gave each other the usual nervous look, sweat appearing from a few of our foreheads.

“Run & Gun!” My captain shouted.
“Run & Gun!” We replied in kind.

We collectively produced an audible gulp and took the first bite of the, energy package shall we call it, that our Coach happened to have made too many of.
“Not protein powder again, Coach!” we collectively groaned, with winces in our faces, and protesting taste buds – or what remained of them.

“No matter how my times I see it, Japanese lunch time rush is truly a formidable opponent” my spirit remarked in admiration, while clinging desperately to my now limp body.

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47 / F / Central Coast Cal...
Posted 7/26/15
Hi: This is my first time trying to post anything. I did this watercolor, "A Minor Problem," for my own entertainmet. enter it in under Comedy. Hope everyone is having a great summer! 皆さん, 素晴らしい夏の持っています!
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