Favorite lines from your own writing

You can't object, says Rani. We're dead anyway. You who opened the gates of uncreation for our species...surely you can't object if we levered them further than you intended.

Two blurs connect in the air, the knives interlocking as Liam and Kyle pressed their weapons against one another.

Odin and Serena watched the battle going on between those they had chosen to be their agent in the field today, though Serena had a lot more to personally lose given Kyle's relation to her.

However, given what she had done to empower him, she felt there was little to worry about.

Odin, however, remained calm and confident in his pawn's ability to defeat Serena's Knight.

She demanded as the two of them clashed again and again in the arena, "I know you, Magic God. You wouldn't put your faith in one of Streiss' little friends if you weren't absolutely sure...there's more to that one..."

She gestured toward the auburn haired young man currently fighting for his life on the word of his six time enemy, "...Than a split personality and some fancy knife work."

Odin chuckled and nodded, he wasn't that affected by being found out, if only because this meant he could explain exactly why Liam would kill Kyle, "Well, I myself was a little surprised to see that in such a person."

Liam watched as the two knives were sent sprawling out of both combatant's hands due to a particularly intense clash, and Kyle immediately prepared his hands for what he thought was the finishing blow.

The enemy was cursed with the touch of death, and on top of that, Odin had told him that Kyle had been Turned and amplified with Superbia. He knew why he had been chosen, he just...didn't want to admit it.

Liam met his opponent head on, clasping hands with death, at first nothing showed, no grand display of power, yet he remained pristine, unaffected, no decay nor degradation.

Odin smirked slightly wider at the gasp of realization on Serena's face - he finally had her, after all these years. She looked down at Liam, trying to match his face to one she remembered if barely, "...No...he's...that one couldn't be less worthy of that power. It wouldn't choose him. You're lying, your proxy is going to die, and then you will, too, Brunn Son of Bor."

Odin brought his hands together in front of him, and relaxed his smirk into a calm, simple smile, "Oh, but it did..."

A bright red glow started to show off of Liam, bright red strings were nothing unusual - they were a manifestation of his Spell Core, after all, but there was a trailing golden glow, along the red strings as Liam made his display.

Kyle realized what was going on, and tried to beg his old friend and comrade, "...L-Liam...no! No! Please, this...anything but this!"

Odin spoke loud over the fighting as Kyle realized what this was going to do to him, "Serena, you overplayed your hand. You were so confident Liam was nothing but a child in the grand scheme of things you neglected to even look him over deeper. And hence, your man is undone by your own arrogance."

Liam remained silent however, he felt no triumph in this display. Regalia deployed, counter-attacked, and in one instant, his red strings and the golden power of Regalia reversed Kyle's Touch of Death back on him - one minute the rival was standing there, the next a bright flash of red and gold reduced him to ash.

Liam looked down at what used to be a friend and comrade, "...Hope you're happy, Odin. Because I won't be for quite a while."

Serena shrieked in emotional anguish and vanished into a plume of Superbia's Darkness, gone from the field.

Odin considered everything - and he realized not even he was capable of truly seeing this as a joyous triumph. He won, certainly. But there was no joy now - there was joy earlier, in battle, in matching wits with Serena. But this? There was...nothing.

"If I knew this would've been the result, I would never have involved myself in Kyle's affairs. I pushed him into her arms, and then, ultimately, into your hands. My sincerest apologies, Eckart."

Liam nodded, wistfully noting, "You...almost sound human, now."

Odin chuckled lightly and replied, "Heh...maybe. Even I was human once." And then he too was gone.

In the beginning, there was God.

And God took clay and he made man.

And man opened his eyes and saw.

And man spoke and said,

“I’m going to f*ck that”

And God wept at his creation.

"There may be some species of good in you creatures-twisted and sick as it may be. Thank my grandson, Scizore for your continued existance. Because I cannot see it. Do not make me regret this."

Three generals of the Association watched the battle lines form, noting that almost immediately things were tilting in their favor. Nevertheless, it seemed like somehow, some of the local militants were keeping their lines orderly and fighting back.

One of them whispered to the main general, "Plans, sir? There are unexpected pockets of resistance. Perhaps we should apply force in those areas..."

"Ah, send in the Magic God Potentials." He then laughed and sat down, deciding he wanted to watch this.

"...Don't you think that's overkill?"

"Overkill? If I can't watch trained soldiers get tossed around by tweens who wield the power of gods, why am I even a general?" The main general started sipping at some orange juice.

"You are horrible." The secondary general retorted. He watched as Carbo and Protes apparently got into a tug of war with a tank. "...you think we should admonish them to get the job done quicker?"

"They look like they're having fun. Why should we interfere?"

"It's amazing how much people bleed when you cut the right thing!"

Matthew nodded when Lisanne walked out from where she had been hiding - though given there had been a chase all over the house, how had she escaped notice? - and smiled wryly, "You know Lis, I knew you'd be bad by the end of this."

The 22 year old disguised as a teen / second in command of Althing smirked, "And how'd you know that, wonderboy?"

"Well, you always were kinda high school evil. You dumped Jackson when he got the cold that summer, and you spiked the chess team's drinks. I mean I had you pegged for some kind of recurring high school antagonist, but second in command of Althing? Really?"

Lisanne blushed a little, "Its...less about me than you think. Its more about Odin. I think I'm in love...again."

Matthew simply gestured, motioning toward a trash can, "And you made me want to vomit. Congratulations - I just got done running around dealing with two wannabe slasher flick villains and what you just said was sicker, wronger and more disgusting than anything I saw in this house."

"He's not as old as he looks! He's a Magic God, they shape shift..."

Matthew simply responded in deadpan, "I think that only makes it worse - how many of my school friends are secretly millenia old bored immortals? How many of them are Cullening the local girls? I do NOT want to be subjected to Fifty Shades of Zeus."

"I don't need to take this from an up-jumped jock. Goodbye." And so Lisanne walked out the door and made a point of slamming it behind her.

"...Wow, that's the first time my wisecracking defeated someone..." Matthew made a note to clean this house up - most likely Jack's parents would kill him if they came home to see their house had been used for some sort of new Scream movie.

"And what exactly is a 'human'?"

"The pinnacle of simian evolution. We are, in fact, so awesome that some people will tell you that we are God's final creation."

Shadow Melody couldn't believe it. The Shining Maidens couldn't believe it. The Darkness couldn't believe it. The entire town couldn't believe it. Not even his family couldn't believe it. Down in the ground lay the brown wig, pretty scorched by the Shadow Fire attack and the thick glasses, broken apart. "No... Y-Y-Y-You can't be... this is a trick! This an illusion!" Shadow Melody shot her darkness balls matching her screams."You! Can! Not! EXIST!" The hits, whose ability was to draw fear, were doing nothing on Shiro. Or rather, on Siegfried. On the unknown prince. On Sigma.

One of the sprites picks part of the glasses and seems confused, taking the glass to Aya, who scanned it. She was shocked. "This... these glasses... Autumn Glass..." Several people were confused, but the ones with knowledge on chemistry were all the more baffled.

"For those who know jack shit..." Shiro/Sigma spoke, with his familiar but now unsettling confident tone. "That material has the same refractive index as air, making the glasses totally useless. It barely makes any augmentation and a subtle polarizing on the inside gives the impression of it being made of regular glass." He looks at his paretns, who were currently having an identity crisis. He had to lie to them to keep the charade. "I'm sorry your son didn't make it and I apologize for taking his identity to protect myself." Tears rolling, sad hug, cries to the sky... perfect. He looks back on the baddies, drawing his lance from the ground, teasing them with a cocky smile and a mocking tone. "I hope you had enjoyed your grasp on the world, but prophecy says I have to destroy your butts off. No hard feelings, but..." His smirk becomes more serious as he gets on a fighting stance. "You just jumped into the Sigma Zone."

He stopped dead in his tracks. Someone-no. Not someone, not anymore. Maybe once, a very long time ago; it was ancient when he'd been born. Now, it had been corrupted by it's own hatred, gnawing on itself in the dark for centuries until it was too sick and hateful to die. Something glared back at him from the shadows of the tomb as if it wanted to take everything he knew and loved and ram it down his throat untill he burst.

The church accused [Thibaud d'Néguev] of cavorting with demons. Unfortunately for them, he was.

"You think three things wrong. You think that you can do anything to me that can make me talk. You think I am powerless without my trinket. And you think that my pet bear cannot use a marksman's rifle."

If I ever begin to condescendingly bemoan human stupidity, you have my permission to remind me of that million years I spent trying to destroy the incarnation of the concept of destruction.

Through some pants, James ordered,“Pitts, let her go.”

Pitts cackled, “Do you think we’d do that? Has that worked for anyone, do you think?” He picked up his shotgun and pressed it to Margaret’s head. “Now, hand over the blade or the girl gets it.”

The girl snarled, “Gets what? Free candy? Mr. Texas, I do have to say you’re a piece of illiterate, unoriginal, sweaty, and smelly cow poop.”

Pitts wrinkled his nose at her comment. “What did you say, girlie?”

“Ok, as my daddy would say, you’re a piece of sh-”

"Hate is like holding onto a lump of frozen acid with Super Serum properties. It will destroy you unless you let it go, but it makes you powerful in the meantime."

"I am a Bosmer, I speak for the trees!"

But animated Frozen Teardrop? Nonononononononono. No. Never. This isn't a disaster, this is trains full of nuclear waste colliding with each other and derailing while they're both on the same boat poisoning the drinking water of a major city with cesium causing all the puppies to turn into Godzilla.

"Are you okay?"
"I've spent the past five years trying very, very hard to keep a low profile, and now there is a dead guy on my living room floor and an elf sitting at my kitchen table, eating my cereal and wearing one of my t-shirts. I am pretty damned far from okay right now."
"M'jen'ek."
"... Sweetie, we've been over this. I don't speak Elvish, so I have no idea what in the Nine Hells you're saying..."
"I don't think she speaks Common..."
"*sigh*"

The line between heresy and prophecy is thin. So thin nobody can know which side they are on until history has had its say. Today, I stand upon that line, praying that my ambition, my mad dream, opens up new vistas and glorious fortune, rather than damning me to ruin and humiliation.

Now, if you don't mind, I have a story to tell in ten equations.

The turret rang like a bell to the impact of the LAW, but it wasn't gutsy enough to get through the composite armor. Jeannette swore, and then noticed Ritchie was silent; a glance showed he was out cold, and the monitor for his optics was cracked. Had to have hit his head. "Mikey! Run them over!"

The tank swung right, left track reversed, right track running forward, and centered itself on the makeshift barricade. Then it churned forward, picking up speed quickly. The sixty-ton armored behemoth wasn't as slow as it looked. Asphalt sprayed off the tracks. Machine gun and rifle fire pinged off the turret and hull, and a second LAW shot out; it missed in the gunner's panic. A second later the 61A3 hit the makeshift barricade doing better than fifty kilometers an hour.

It wasn't much of a contest. The tank barely noticed the barricade in fact, crushing or scattering the cars before it as easily as it did the the infantry. Inside the armor, the noise was noticeable, but not loud. No audible screams. "Pull us back slow." Jeannette said, popping her hatch and manning the 12.7 for a few bursts, but the remaining Zeke infantry had no stomach for a fight after seeing the tank crush nearly a whole squad under it. They ran fast.

"You made one mistake. I should have died first. His conscience would have kept him from taking revenge. You just killed mine."