“How powerful?” I asked.
“Think multi-kilotonne nuclear weapon.” He at me quizzically. “And no, we are not building one.”
The idea of building a nuclear weapon hadn't really occurred to me until that point. Of course, now that he had said it, it made a lot of sense given the circumstances.
“Why not?” I asked. “We're in Kazakhstan, or close enough anyway.”
“We're on a stolen freighter in the middle of the Caspian Sea. And, not that I'm supporting your idea, but how does being in Kazakhstan help us in any way?” Alan walked across the bridge, tapping screens as he went. Alan does that.
“Simple.” I replied. “The Soviets had plenty of facilities all around here. Nuclear facilities. After the USSR collapsed, they ended up abandoned, or poorly guarded at best. We have, on this freighter, a 1980s-era Soviet gunship with enough munitions on-board to fight World War 2. I suggest we use it to seize control of one of these facilities and make off with a nuclear warhead, which we can hot-wire later.”
He took a notebook from the desk and started idly flipping through it.
“Even so,” he said without looking up, “The Russians aren't idiots. They'll have removed the active warheads long ago, under START 3 or some such treaty.”
“Then we'll find a sub pen. Russian submarines have-”
“No nuclear warheads on them, at least not any that you'd find around here.”
“Let me finish. Russian submarines have nuclear reactors on them. The reactors used by submarines use 20 percent enriched uranium. We can use that to build the fissile core. I'm willing to bet we can find at least one abandoned sub pen with uranium left over.” Alan was still reading the notebook.
“I always thought you needed at least eighty percent U-235 to start a chain reaction.”
“No, that's a lie. Any concentration above 6% uranium-235 can go critical. The fast-neutron threshold is higher, but twenty percent is still weapons-grade as far as we're concerned. Plus, we can use steel, lead or graphite as a neutron reflector, which will take down the critical mass.”
Alan looked up rather sharply.
“So, tell me, precisely HOW are we going to build this thing? Not that I'm supporting your idea, of course, but really, how? We're on a freighter, for Christ's sake, not an industrial park.” Yeah, he supports my idea. He just doesn't want to admit it.
“We don't need much. Just a length of thick pipe – we're on a ship, remember – and end-caps for that, welded on. Don't tell me this ship won't have oxyacetylene gear for maintenance. We can use the explosives from some of the missiles on the gunship as a trigger.”
Alan sighed.
“That's all fairly straightforward, but I was referring to the fact that we - no, you - you have to have two hemispheres of uranium in a gun-type design. How are you going to machine that? Uranium isn't gold. You can't just hammer it into a ball.” Ah. I had forgotten about that. Of course, being my usual self, an idea came to me promptly.
“We'll use the oxyacetylene gear. Uranium melts at around eleven-hundred Celsius. The welding gear can melt iron at fifteen hundred. I'm sure we can find or make some metalworking tools on this ship.” Alan held up his hands in defeat.
“Alright, we'll do it your way. But I'm telling INTERPOL it was your idea.”
And with that we got to work, having handily escaped another inescapable situation through science.
edited 20th May '11 2:05:37 AM by RiotousRascal
At first, Kouga thought he was drunk, so unbelievable was the scene laid out before him. He had come in to ask Akiko if she knew where their daughter was, and he found her, without anything on the upper half of her body, with a human woman touching her in a place where, by their laws, only he had a right to do so! And what was worse, the human woman, who was unabashedly naked, was being pleasured by his wife! Just what the f—- was going on here, and who was she? Why was she in his home – why was she in their bedroom?
His head reeling, he felt a fiery anger build inside him as he watched them together, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Normally, such a scene would have excited him, but not when it involved his wife.
He finally was moved to speak, unable to allow this tryst to continue without breaking the laws regarding excess punishment.
“Just what the f—k are you doing with my wife, human?” he growled menacingly.
Suddenly, Akiko heard a voice that was not her partner’s. What? Who...? She opened her eyes, putting a hand on Mikami’s shoulder to tell her to stop. Oh… oh, s—t! Oh, gods! Oh, no! Kouga – no! She shoved Mikami off of her, and grabbed frantically for her armor. She was horrified – in her lust, she had completely forgotten the risks!
“K-Kouga! What…? You weren’t…weren’t supposed to… I…It… This isn’t what it looks like, I swear!” she stammered. It was exactly what it looked like, and she knew it, but she couldn’t let him think that – it would mean the truth would get out, and it would mean the end of her.
He glared at her angrily, saying harshly, “Then what is it? Because what I see looks like a wife guilty of cheating on her husband!
“With another woman, and a human at that! I should have known it all along – Inagi was right: you are a whore! Just not in the sense he’d thought!”
Kouga was right, and she knew it. Yet, the insults, coming from him, only made her bristle and sting. But all she could really say was, softly, pleadingly, “Please, Kouga…don’t make a scene…”
He mocked her, his anger blinding him to how his words hurt her. “Don’t make a scene? How’s this for a scene?!” He raised his voice to a shouting level, loud enough that he could be heard far down the corridor. She flinched as he spoke, hanging her head in ever-increasing shame. “I come in to ask you if you know where Mizuki is, and what do I find? I find you f—king another woman! You haven’t so much as touched me in months, and you sleep with this…this slut on a gods-damned whim!
“Damn you, don’t you have any idea how this makes me feel, you bitch? That you prefer another woman to your own husband!”
“Kouga…Please.” She begged, “Please… Just…just stop.”
She moved to take his hands in her own, to try and calm him down, but he pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.” He said coldly. I can’t believe that she would even try that trick after this!
“Kouga…Please… Take back what you said…” His refusal, coupled with his cold attitude and the wounds his words had left, caused her hate to creep into her voice. It almost bothered him. Almost. A few stray tears tracked down her face. Normally, females used this to get what they wanted, faking the emotion, but these weren’t false tears, nor were they tears of sorrow. She hated him, and she was sick of never saying so. But she oculdn't now - no. All she could do now was beg, and hope that he would eventually ease his temper. “Please, Kouga, tell me you didn’t mean it…Please…”
He snorted. Her tears did arouse some modicum of pity in him – he hated to see any female cry, and when he admitted it to himself, he did care about her in some small measure, and he wanted her to be happy if only because it meant that everything he was in charge of was likewise stable. But right now, with the emotions running so strongly, he struggled to see past anyone but himself.
“You!” He pointed to Mikami, who was standing against a back wall, having gotten her clothes back on during the exchange. “Wait outside. There will be someone else there. Stay with him, and do not attempt to go anywhere.”
She hesitated, not at all liking the way he was treating Akiko, a woman whom she cared for deeply. She was about to open her mouth to reply to him with a comment about how miserable his wife was here, but what he said next left her no room for argument.
“Are you deaf? I said go! You heard me – now! Outside, before I take off your head and order you served as tonight’s meal!” he threatened.
Meekly, but still seething with anger at his treatment of his wife, Mikami left the room....
I censored it for the forum.
But it was that face that caused Frank to step back without even thinking, a ghoulish horror plucked from a nightmare. It was misshapen beyond belief, as though crudely broken and mended countless times, until nothing of what it once was remained; not a single bone seemed to be in its proper place. The left side of her face bore a hideous chemical burn scar, extending from her jaw and continuing up into her hairline; the eye on that side was covered in an eyepatch, for which Frank was grateful. Seeing what those chemicals had done to it would probably have been too much. The rest of her face was no better, covered in lesser scars, the most prominent of these a hideous pair of scars at the corner of her lips, giving her a grotesque grin. It was hard to tell in a few cases where one scar ended and the other began — burns and cuts mingled together, forming a disgusting layer of flesh more akin to leather than any human skin.
Frank struggled to stand his ground, especially when the fiendish apparition smiled, revealing she had more false teeth than natural ones. The expression served only to cast her features into more hideous relief. He looked around, as much to tear his gaze away from what he was beholding as anything else, and noticed that neither Asau nor Rachel showed any signs of worry. Was he hallucinating, then? No, they appeared to be looking at the same bent, twisted creature he was, but they did not seem quite so bothered.
Then Rachel stepped forward, returned the thing's smile, and said, "hello, Mother."
Writing Samira Hosseini has been an interesting experience — I've given myself the creeps several times doing so. She's actually a good character, but the Cold-Blooded Torture she endured at the hands of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard before escaping to America has left her a mental and physical wreck, and some of the scenes involving her are easily more terrifying to me than the ones involving the Eyes and Teeth itself.
edited 20th May '11 6:09:38 AM by KillerClowns
Why doesn't she wear face-covering clothing like the niqab? Or is she proud of her face (that she endured torture for a goal or something) and wears the scars with pride?
Anyway, she is an interesting character for sure.
If any question why we died/ Tell them, because our fathers lied -Rudyard Kipling
Eye'm the cutest!
Mat whistled for a second. “Damn that’s a big hole.”
Tenchi moved over to the still intact wall next to them, quickly giving it a nice tap with the gloves of his armor to see if was still holding.
“This wall is still stable.” Tenchi said.
“Alright here we go. Daniel, you’re up.” Mat said.
Daniel strapped his rifle securely to his gear ready to make the jump. He took a few steps back to get a running start and on Mat’s signal took off. He broke into a sprint for several steps and took the jump right before the edge of the floor. Daniel soared across the gap but came just short of landing on the ledge with his feet and caught himself on the ledge. Daniel pulled himself up and waved back signaling he was okay.
“Alright, he made it.” Mat said before turning to Jessie. “Your turn.”
“I may be small but I know I can make it.” Jessie said confidently pointing at Mat. “Besides, nobody tosses me!”
She secured her weapon to her gear just as Daniel did and stepped back approximately five meters. Mat and Tenchi stepped away from the edge waiting on her to make her move. She broke into a sprint heading diagonally for the edge and made a jump for it. She bounded over the gap heading for wall pressing down on it with her left foot then quickly pressing off to give her a boost off the wall. She bounced away coming to land solidly on the broken ledge.
“Impressive. Little girl’s got some jump in her.” Mat said as he Tenchi readied their gear and themselves.
Mat went first backing up as before and making a run for it. Unlike Jessie and Daniel, Mat took a more finessed route jumping onto the wall itself running for several steps before making a final jump across the rest of the way landing squarely on the ledge near Daniel and Jessie. Tenchi quickly followed suit in the exact same manner.
“You got to teach me how to do that.” Jessie said visibly impressed.
“All it takes is practice.” Tenchi said.
“And we’ve had plenty of that!” Mat followed up.
The four turned themselves around to the shorter jump just as the sounds of fast footsteps sounded from below them.
“We got to move now.” Mat said listening to where the steps were going.
The four quickly jumped the second gap back onto the fourth floor taking off in a constant run to the west. They vaulted over a collapsed section of wall and made quick hop across another small gap in the floor before making a turn south. Ahead of them, a partially broken transit bridge connected this building to the next.
“Looks like the bridge is a little busted, be ready to jump!” Mat said running full speed.
He and Tenchi reached the bridge first, jumping across the short broken gap in it. Daniel and Jessie followed shortly thereafter. They turned and resumed running through the next building, making a right turn at the other side before continuing west.
“We need to get to ground level soon. Otherwise we’ll just get…whoa!” Mat said just as he came to stop near the edge of another hole in the floor.
The other three stopped right behind him. Like the building before this one had another large gash torn out the side.
“Ah hell not again!” Mat said to himself.
But this one would not be as safe as the other. At that moment the floor shifted as if it wanted to break before stopping.
“That wasn’t good. We all need to jump at the same time. I don’t think this building’s going to hold much longer.” Tenchi said.
“Agreed. Everyone jump on three.” Mat said as he and everyone else got ready. “One…two…three!”
The four catapulted themselves across the gap at the same time catching the edge of the far floor in similar time. Daniel was over on the far left and Tenchi hang between him and Mat. Jessie hung less than a meter away from Mat. Daniel quickly climbed up onto the ledge just as the floor they hung on shifted down.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! This isn’t good Ten.” Mat said visibly concerned over the two floor drop below them. “Jessie climb up and give us a hand.”
Jessie pulled herself up as Mat and Tenchi held tight as motionless as they could, not wanting to shift the floor any further. As Jessie made it to the top, Mat and Tenchi readied themselves to climb up themselves.
But fortune would turn its back on them that moment…
The floor shifted again creaking and cracking dropping Mat and Tenchi down onto the broken floors below. The two landed, rolled and came to a stop as dust and light debris rained down around them.
“Captain are you alright?” Jessie said over her personal radio to Mat.
Mat and Tenchi began to get up shaking off the fall and the impact only to quickly snap themselves to their feet. Tenchi drew both of his kodachi and Mat his katana as right in front of them stood a least a dozen Lancers of the Phoenix Corps their blades fully drawn. The Preyarans began to form a semicircle around Mat and Tenchi as the turned themselves back to back.
“Alright Tenchi how are we getting out of this one?” Mat said quietly as he held his katana ready in his hands.
“Hold on, let me get a look.” Tenchi replied under his breath.
Mat took a quick look in both directions seeing they were in a large hallway.
"Which way are we going? We’re going left, right?”
“Right.”
“So we’re going right?”
“No we’re going left.”
“But you said we’re going right.”
“We are going right.”
“Damnit Tenchi, which right?”
“Your other right! My right!”
The Preyaran Lancers drew in closer.
“Okay so we’re going my left, on your go Ten.” Mat said tensing up.
edited 20th May '11 8:04:58 AM by MajorTom
"Allah may guide their bullets, but Jesus helps those who aim down the sights."
Moonbeam is a vampire detective with Stockholm Syndrome from The Spanish Inquisition. She and her human friend Rose are working a case where a man was murdered by a cat-shapeshifter, and his foster daughter Nora saw the whole thing but repressed her memory of it, she's just recently regained it. Nora has also figured out what Moonbeam is, and is trying to join their time, but Moonbeam wants to keep her from putting herself in danger. They had an argument about that, and then Moonbeam fainted from hunger (being a Vegetarian Vampire is not good for your health). She's just gotten home after a visit to the supernatural doctor, who force-fed her a bunch of Rose's blood.
As soon as Moonbeam was safely home, she settled down in the dark to think. She thought she was finally doing it. This was so disappointing, though at least she hadn't attacked anyone. Just yelled at Nora, and the kid did sort of deserve it, disobeying them like that.
And worst of all, Rose had fed her again. How could she have done that? She knew how guilty Moonbeam would feel - how dirty she'd feel. Moonbeam could still taste the blood in her mouth. She wanted to get it out of her somehow, but vampires didn't barf. So instead she drank some animal blood to wash away the taste, and then sat on her couch to pray.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name." Her shoulders tingled, and she tensed up. "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." The sound of chains being drawn up. "Give us this day our daily bread," - her voice, crying out from hunger, until Brother Paolo finally showed her mercy - "and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
The room was changing, looking more like a dungeon. She stared at the white fridge, using it to remind herself where she was. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen." And despite her best efforts to stay focused, now she was back in the cell. She curled up, hearing the clink of the chains, and froze as she heard footsteps. Had she gone crazy? She must be hallucinating this!
The surroundings shifted back into her basement suite, and she pulled her blanket on, trembling with fear. The sound of footsteps came again, bringing a flash of the cell - but no, it was her landlady, getting ready.
What was wrong with her? Moonbeam thought back to those books on memory repression, how they'd described the feelings of a child in a terrible situation. The pain lingered long afterward. A similar situation, some sort of reminder, could bring it back vividly. Was she like those wounded children?
No! She'd deserved that treatment! They weren't evil people who liked causing suffering, they'd been trying to save her soul. Hadn't they spared her? Hadn't Brother Paolo taken pity on her, and been kind to her? And after all, she truly had been evil. She had killed people, she had traveled with pagans, she had turned against God. She had truly deserved damnation. How dare she compare herself to an abused child!
Does this count as an Ignored Epiphany, or does that have to be about your own behavior, not about a character-defining experience?
edited 20th May '11 8:09:25 AM by Ettina
If I'm asking for advice on a story idea, don't tell me it can't be done.
And the structure of the text is too much character A did this, then character B did this and character c said this.
But I should probably open myself for critique as well:
“It’s the iron in the soil” I whisper to myself.
I will get up, yes I will. It isn’t bad, I am still alive. Just a minute I will rest and then start making my way back. But for now my limbs feel hollow, heavy and exhausted, although not sore.
My gaze shifts from a indefinite spot in the distance towards my stomach. It has the same color as the ground around it, red mixed with the brown of the torn fabric. With a deep gasp the pain returns, its nauseating pulse travels across my body and makes the eyes squint.
That minute is going to be longer than I thought.
edited 20th May '11 8:15:39 AM by honorius
If any question why we died/ Tell them, because our fathers lied -Rudyard Kipling
Eye'm the cutest!
^ Thanks for bringing sentence length to my attention. I'm in the middle of editing-revising from beginning of the book to where I left off so I can run some fixes on that, you know break em up into bits.
"Allah may guide their bullets, but Jesus helps those who aim down the sights."
PARTY PARTY PARTY I WANNA HAVE A PARTY
"Officer Fairchild. A pleasure." Ryan responded as sarcastically as possible. Rebecca frowned. This guy's our informant? He's another witless teenage inmate.
"Oh? I see you doubt me. Ms. Fairchild, your suspicion is understandable. I am well aware that I don't look like much. So then, how about a bet?"
Her eyebrows lifted ever so subtly.
"Sorry, I've made it a policy not to make deals with inmates, especially not with brats like you."
"Come now, where's the fun in that? Life means nothing if you can't enjoy yourself from time to time."
Rebecca remained unconvinced. Ryan sighed, shoulders drooping in mock resignation. "You're making this much more difficult than it needs to be. Play my game and I'll tell you everything I know. Which is, might I add, a pretty good deal."
Rebecca sighed. It was obvious the boy wasn't going to give up on this. "Fine, I'll play. What are your terms?"
"Oh, we don't have to wager anything. Unless you want to, of course," he said with a grin, "No, I merely wish for your opinion. Who do you think will enter through that door next?" Ryan jabbed his thumb in the direction of the interrogation room's solitary door.
"What kind of bet is that? It's completely-"
"Officer Taylor."
Rebecca heard the faint sound of a small brass key being inserted into the lock. It clicked and the door opened. In walked the short, brown-haired, weary-eyed Officer Taylor.
"What... How did you know-"
"In three minutes Prisoner 1137 is going to escape from his cell. He will be captured and disarmed with relative ease, barring one John Q. Public on a visit who will receive a minor laceration. Inside his cell you will find razor blades, some stolen duct tape and silverware, as well as welding tools and the July 1994 issue of Playboy, featuring the voluptuous Ms. Amber Wallace of Bee Cave, Texas. I can see the future. Your reaction to this statement will be a stark 'What.' Except now it won't be, because I just told you about it. You're going to tell me there's no proof of any of this, except Officer Walken is going to radio 1137's escape in on his walkie right about... now."
Static crackled in on the walkie hanging from Rebecca's hip. "I need support in D-Block! Prisoner 1137 has escaped from his cell! Target is to be regarded as armed and dangerous!"
A resounding silence hung over the interrogation room. Rebecca was the first to break it.
"What are you?"
"That's a rather difficult question to answer. Legally I'm Ryan Walker, age 19, 6 ft. 1', white hair, green eyes. On the streets I'm one of the biggest crimelords there is. They call me Magic Man, Miracleworker, Angel. I'm a prophet, an oracle, a seer. And, Ms. Fairchild, for the small price of my acquittal, I can be yours."
edited 20th May '11 10:03:27 AM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial
Professional Writer & Amateur Scholar
Whoa, I originally launched this thread and thought it was too stupid that I wanted to nuke this thread, but apparently people like it enough...
I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.
Two, actually, repeated a number of times by a somewhat spastic character, or maybe he is just crazy... oh Jason... poor Jason, you big Ham.
This is one of my favorite section closing lines, it goes roughly like this.
...starring Adam Sandler?!
Here's mine:
"Shut up! I'm trying to listen to my own shadow!" Sarah said
It Doesnt Really Makes Sense In Any Context
edited 5th Jun '11 9:05:58 PM by Anthony_H
Alpha Legionnaire
Lucia: With all due respect Captain, but no one is dumb enough to pick a fight with the Black Legion.
Blackheart: No one but us. (grins)
- As you have come to meet me in person in my own office, I expect that you will now tell me of the most recent purge your warriors have done.
- According to reports that were presented to me, the Special Task Force has eliminated 5000 traitors, agitators and demagogues from the Khul province. May I suggest that you’d increase our quota to 12 000 traitors?
The Emperor closed his eyes and weighed the proposal for a moment. 5000 citizens. By the end of the week it would be as none of them had ever existed. The pedantic and dutiful Imperial officials and bureaucrats would erase the names and histories of the liquidated traitors from all archives and databases. Not even their names would remain in this world. Some of them had surely conspired and plotted against the Imperial rule and by extension the Emperor himself. Most of them were loyal subjects who would never even entertain the possibility of crossing against His Most Benevolent Imperial Majesty. But it was irrelevant, for in his grand schemes none were innocent, there were only degrees of guilt . All of them had to die, their deaths would set an example to those delusional archons and petty war-chiefs who would conspire against the Emperor in darkness and secrecy and they could not stand against such dire retribution of the Emperors great and terrible wrath.
- Permission granted.
- Thank you my Lord. Have you considered my other request?
- What did it concern?
-My Lord, the Special Task Force 685 has served you well against foes within and without and we have brought your wrath and vengeance to the vilest of foes and traitors…
- Proceed to your point.
-Very well, I propose that the Special Task Force will be expanded to a full host with three full standards instead of the current one.
Three standards? An audacious request, especially from a human. He did have a valid point however. The Special Task Force and the Honour Guard were at the moment his most reliable and loyal troops, and only the Special Task Force could make act against the treasonous archons for only a few knew of the unit’s existence, with those who knew being under severe vows and oaths of silence and secrecy under the punishment of death. The Imperial Secret Service had proven to be an inadequate instrument for this purge, it did not have the troops or the morale for the drastic measures that had to be taken. And of what use they are if they cannot enforce the will of the Emperor? The Honour Guard were not suited for covert war against the Emperors perceived foes. They had a too visible role in the Imperial Court and as the Emperors personal praetorian guard. Still the thought of expanding it to 12 000 augmented humans was distasteful.
The Emperor turned slowly to face the window. The lights of his city gleamed in the darkness forming curious patterns rivalling the splendour of myriad constellations of stars and celestial bodies whirling above wherein his peoples manifest destiny awaited. He thought of the predicament and plight of his beloved Empire and the numerous foes threatening it both from within and without. His position was a precarious one. The provincial warlords and archons who were at best unreliable during times of conquest and triumph were now demanding that the Empire should sue for peace and pardon with the Ynger as surely the Imperial Army could do not triumph against such fierce foes that had wrested the colony from the Empire. The dissenting archons also spoke of greater provincial autonomy and self-determination over the centralized and bureaucratic Empire for in their hearts they feared that the Empire would lead them to ruin. The High Commander of the Imperial council of war had resigned from his post in protest of the conduct of the war thus disgracing the Emperor even further. Even the Emperors closest ministers, advisors and viziers advised him to call for a truce with the dread Ynger and to take heed of the archons concerns, maybe to grant them some of the liberties they pleaded. Such counsel was worthless and defeatist. Caving in to such demands was simply unacceptable. It would signal that the Emperor was a weak ruler who could not even control his own vassals and allies. Such weakness would only make the archons and warlords issue forth even more bold demands until the Emperor would be in name only…
- So how is it going to be?
- What?
- The expansion of the Special Task Force into a full host of three standards.
- I will set the wheels of bureaucracy in motion. I expect that the quality of the warriors of the Special Task Force will not be diluted even if it is to be expanded to a full host.
- We will keep the standards high, I assure you.
Runs on Awesomeness
This is one scene, split by a chapter divider, not sure if I should just make it one scene and fill in the skip. Also, the very end isn't done, I kinda got stuck at that point.
The darkness limited her vision, though she knew there was at least one more person in the house. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the fight she knew was coming.
Sudden movement to her right made her jump sideways. She flipped through a series of handsigns, feeling chakra build in her chest. She brought her hand to her mouth as the chakra burst forth, erupting in flames.
The light gave her just enough time to see Naruto's clone disappear. She coughed as the flames went out, her mouth singed by the attack.
There was a glow as Naruto's Rasengan blasted through a wall to her left. She shielded her eyes from the blast and fell into her combat stance.
“Nice of you to come by,” Naruto said, another Rasengan illuminating his face. “Natsuko wasn't much fun to play with.”
“You bastard!” Kiora shouted, snapping into movement. She closed the distance to him in the blink of an eye, jabbing at the chakra points in his stomach. He brought the Rasengan to bear, driving it towards her face.
She grabbed his wrist and jumped, twisting his arm behind his back. A shadow clone kicked her from the side, loosening her grip on him. He jerked free, bringing the Rasengan around again. She dropped to the floor, kicking upwards and driving the technique high. Flipping through the same trio of handsigns, she activated her Chidori. She drove the technique into his abdomen, only for him to disappear in a puff of smoke.
“Show yourself!” she shouted, reactivating the technique. “Too cowardly to face me yourself? Come on, you can fuck my girlfriend but you can't fight me?”
The house shook, sending Kiora to her knees. The floor creaked ominously, then the sound of splintering wood began to grow. Kiora jumped straight up, gluing herself to the ceiling with chakra.
The floor gave way below her, a thunderous crash of splintered wood. Naruto stood just beyond the hole, his body covered in glowing red chakra.
“You really want to fight me?” he asked, as a pair of chakra tails sprouted from the base of his spine. “Then let's dance, little girl.”
Chapter Break
Kiora felt her back hit the wall, blown by the glowing chakra surrounding Naruto. She landed on her knees, panting.
This is the power of the Kyuubi? She thought, shaking her head to clear it. I didn't see his attack coming at all! He hits so hard, so fast... No wonder Lady Tsunade wanted to keep this under wraps.
She staggered to her feet, her head on a swivel to find her foe. She barely got her head out of the way as another punch seemed to come from nowhere. The chakra on Naruto's arm branched off, taking a swipe at the off-balance kunoichi.
She dropped, landing on her ass to avoid the blow. Rolling onto her back, she grabbed Naruto's outstretched arm, ignoring the searing pain in her hands as she did so. She planted her feet on his stomach, and flipped him skyward.
Rolling to her feet, Kiora flipped through six more handsigns, feeling more chakra build in her chest. She released the fireball, ready for the heat this time. Flames filled the collapsed room, igniting timbers and rubble.
Naruto fell through the flames, the Kyuubi's chakra protecting him. His hand found Kiora's throat as he landed, pinning her to the floor. She struggled futilely against his strength, trying to pry his fingers from her neck. Her feet kicked helplessly against the floor as he stood, picking her up with his single hand.
“You tried, little girl,” he said. “You did better than most. Hell, I've killed jonin faster. You're something special. But in the end, it comes down to those with raw power, and I've got you beat there. As long as I have this,” he patted his stomach with his free hand. “Nothing can touch me.”
Kiora gasped for air, her vision swimming from lack of oxygen. Her arms fell, limp, to her side as darkness began to fill her vision. She heard the growing roar of the flames, louder and louder as it assaulted her eardrums.
Naruto seemed distracted by his monologue, his grip loosening just enough for Kiora to gulp down some precious air. Air that was quickly filling with smoke. Where were the ANBU? Or her parents? Why was she in here fighting this battle alone?
Steeling her nerves, she flipped through a trio of handsigns behind her back. There was one shot. Naruto was distracted. Kiora felt chakra surging in the palm of her hand, heard the chirping of the lightning, still audible over the roaring flames.
The Chidori raced towards its mark as Naruto reacted, far to late to do anything. He dropped her, raising his forearms to block, or maybe to deflect the blow to a non-vital spot. It didn't matter.
The jutsu sliced through his arms, continued into his chest, and stopped when Kiora grabbed a pulsing organ. Time seemed to slow as she gazed into Naruto's rage-filled red eyes. There was no remorse there, only hate. For a split second, she wondered what could have caused the former hero to fall so far.
Then she remembered what it was she was fighting for. Natsuko, or at least her honor, if you could call it that. Some sense of justice, she supposed. Any pity she had for the man before her evaporated as she closed her grip and yanked as hard as she could.
Naruto Uzumaki had time to blink as he witnessed the dying beats of his own heart. One thought passed through his mind as he felt the Kyuubi's chakra leave him: How? That was all he wanted to know. How had he lost to the little girl before him?
Kiora stepped back as Naruto collapsed to the floor.
I think of combat as one of my strong points, so I'm curious what you lot think.
edited 3rd Jun '11 6:07:37 PM by animemetalhead
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.
@ Riotus
I'd recommend adding in a few more tags for who's saying what. I realize that it's only a two person conversation but it gets a little confusing at times. It's a tense conversation anyways, perhaps some descriptions like "snapped," "replied coldly," things like that?
@ Punkreader
Are you censoring the cursewords in the final version of your story, or is that just for the forum? Either way, I'd recommend keeping them intact. Most readers will be able to tell what they are anyways but censoring them takes us out of the story.
edited 3rd Jun '11 7:33:18 PM by Hermiethefrog
82123
Throwing Your Sword Always Works, my butt.
"Oh, yeah? Well, predict this!" He took his sword out and launched it toward me, but just before it got to me I sidestepped behind the black blade.
"Well, that failed miserably." he said worriedly.
"Just like most of the plans you've come up with, Levie." Nora yelled from the crowd.
"Shut your trap, Irving!" Todd shouted at her.
"That's it! I'm done with you treating everyone here like we're less than you! We're not!" I replied, running toward Todd. I pointed outward behind me, and no sooner than I did Cale and Allie jumped out of the crowd and ran right behind me.
"As a matter of fact," Cale started, followed by Allie's finish, "we're BETTER!"
The three of us then simultaneously shot out a fist of ours, and Todd went flying, first to the top level, then through the wall out of the building, and finally he just disappeared into the night sky!
"Dude, that was awesome!" Cale said.
"You know it was!" Allie replied, giving Cale a high five. "Gimme some, Tre!"
But I didn't.
"Come on, show me the twinkle!" I whispered. "Come on..."
Nothing.
"Has there ever been a time where there wasn't a twinkle?" I asked.
"Nope." Allie replied.
I tensed up. "Aw, crap."
No sooner than those words came out of my mouth a giant Chuck Taylor sole burst through the roof.
edited 5th Jun '11 12:23:50 AM by Tre
oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘
^ Seems a bit like Scott Pilgrim. Which isn't a bad thing.
82123
![[up]](https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/smiles/arrow_up.png "[up]"){kind=icon}
I was hoping for that, actually, especially with the Friendpunch (which I actually got the idea for from the game). 
SP and Wimpy Kid are my two biggest influences, so I guess I'm getting that right.
oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘
It looks like you're missing a "to" in there...
...starring Adam Sandler?!
Sorry! It was in Spanish, so I made that kind of mistakes from time to time 
edited 5th Jun '11 9:05:35 PM by Anthony_H
Ah, what the hell. First two paragraphs of the novel I'm working on.
Her part-time assistant sat on the concrete steps waiting for her, his long legs folded out in front of him. He had earphones on, tapping a pencil against his thigh in time to the music. In jeans and a hoodie he could have been a grad student doing practicum except, of course, he wasn’t human.
Apparition in the Woods
Here's the beginning of a rather odd little chapter in a rather long work that as of yet does not have a title. The section, however, does, and it is called "He Was A Visitor":
How much time he had spent walking forward, he did not know. Step by widening step, he had approached the far door to the chamber for what could have been hours, though it had probably been only a minute or two. Time seemed fluid here, and the mottled black of the walls, alternately opaque and perfectly reflective, gave no impression of gradation or distance. Even lanterns could not be accounted for as milestones, as the illumination for the hall was provided by a kind of grey moss that carpeted the floor and emitted a strange, pale glow that bounced unevenly off of the walls and ceiling. This sensation of going nowhere annoyed him.
Many things about his situation annoyed him.
For instance, there was the ever-present secrecy that had dogged him from the inception of his task, hanging over him like a river fog, never allowing him a clear view of what was intended of him. From the beginning of the song and dance, the tune had remained the same: No names, no reasons, only locations and times accompanied by vague instructions, each new destination being only another brief, anonymous meeting, another transfer of directions. Like the corridor, the job seemed an interminable series of non-events, the only distinguishing features between one end and the other being a growing feeling of boredom and unease. From the start he was struck by how little he was given either in information or purpose, the only directive boiling down to “keep walking, say nothing.”
So much to say with so little time at hand. Or too much rather, and an abundance of numbness. He had always been quiet, but never this way.
There was nothing, again and again.
^ Got a lovecraftian impression off the prose. Less dense though (I have trouble identifying with lovecraftian protagonists because of their Sesquipedalian Loquaciousness.)
Seriously? I'm just too bored. Also, how do I spell that?
Post random lines from your work, be it a whole paragraph or a line, may it be awesome, funny, heartwarming, sad, scary, philosohpical, just random...
John turned around at the voice, to see a man, who he presumed to be around mid thirties, standing there, leaning on the counter. The man stared at him, with rather bored expression, while chewing on a gum which made sound that slightly irritated John. Upon closer inspection, John judged that he must be a janitor.
"Yes, I do." John replied politely. At this the janitor raised his eyebrows just a bit, showing noticeably more interest. Does he know mom, he wondered.
"Really? Is she your sister, or something?"
"She would be my mother." John replied, his face rigid as usual.
"Oh? Didn't think that she was that old, but I knew it. She looks young, but she always had that mom-force exuding around her. You can't hide that. Still, it's surprising, considering...how old are you?"
"I would turn sixteen within few months."
"Figures. Oh well, talking about your mom's age isn't that comfortable, is it? Just one of those days, I guess." He yawned loudly, showing his fairly well organized teeth. "I'm supposed to be go to the first floor. Some idiot puked. I could do that, but I'd rather just stay here and chill out for a bit. What you here for?"
"I just came here to visit my friends."
"A girl and a guy from St. Aquinas High School, October 13th and October 12th. Multiple bone fractures and ruptured spleen for the girl, and multiple major wounds for the guy. Are those who you are talking about?"
"Yes."
"Just as I thought." The janitor snorted.
"May I ask you how you know that?"
"I know everything. Everything."
edited 20th May '11 1:43:07 AM by dRoy
I'm a (socialist) professional writer serializing a WWII alternate history webnovel.