Moving Forward

Wow, remember this old thing?
I've chosen to update it. Remember some time ago (a long time ago) where I aid I'd get rid of all the writing so I can publish it? I've done that now. Fanfics and anything I'm not considering publishing remain, but things like Stolen and Heroes of a Super Variety are gone. I didn't delete the posts because I want to keep the comments, but yeah. The actual stories are gone.
I was reluctant to get rid of them before, when I said I would. I viewed it as a step back, stopping people from viewing my work and hoarding it until I get it published. But I'm seeing it as a step forward now. And loving it.
I like to think I've matured somewhat, as a writing. I don't care about seeing a good reaction as much as critique. Sure I can get a smile from something saying it's great, but in the long term I definitely enjoy someone telling me what they didn't like a lot more. I can move forward that way. Being honest, when reading others people's stuff I usually just said I enjoyed it. I did enjoy it, and they were great, but I was never honest and said what I didn't like about it. As much as that might annoy the writer, who had just put all that effort into a piece of work, I think it does help more than anything else, especially a general comment on how 'it's great'.
I'm probably not going to write anything for this anymore. I don't write often, and when I do I try and focus on things I want to try and publish. I'm sorry I never really finished any projects and never gave anyone a proper ending, even though I had most of them in my mind already, but you shouldn't expect things from me. I'm too lazy.
I might post a snippet of something, but probably won't. If you guys ever want to read anything I've got, email me. I might have something I want an opinion on. I might be emailing a few people for an opinion as well.
Love you guys, thanks for all you've done to further my work. I owe you all a lot.
See you around.

(To be named) Chapter 1

Corpses littering the ground, sorcerers scattered across the battlefield, swarms of soldiers lay dead. The everlasting sounds of battle filled the air. The clash of metal on metal, the ground being pounded on by scores of feet. The screams of dying men, the stench of death. Fire crackled, energy flared. And in the middle of all the chaos was one man. Dagon

His sword flashed between him and his enemies, cutting them down. More took their place, for every one he slew, two seemed to appear. None made any difference.

Dagon swung, stabbed and hacked his way through the horde. An entire army was fighting him, and yet they were completely outmatched. Swords, spears and axes all tried to hit him, but very few managed to.

Dagon stepped in to behead a man, his sword slicing through the armour as if it wasn’t there.  He tore into the army, with savage bloodlust. They tried to hit him with their petty weapons, but Dagon just shook off the injuries like they were nothing. He blocked, cut, stabbed, and kicked, his great strength making sure that he could not lose.

A man, almost as big as Dagon, charged. As soon as the swords met, Dagon knew that he was facing someone who knew what they were doing. Dagon blocked the blade, but the man before him was fast. Incredibly fast.

But the speed couldn’t match Dagon’s power. Not even close. The man was driven back a step. He gritted his teeth, determined to win against all odds. Dagon was barely even trying as he blocked the man’s strikes. The man was tired, too tired to be a challenge, while Dagon would never tire. He became aware that this was the last man. Did the army fall so soon?

Becoming bored of the fight, Dagon swung his sword the man’s midsection. The soldier blocked, and his blade shattered on impact. The man, a worthy warrior, didn’t have time to make a sound before he was cut clean in half.

Dagon inhaled deeply, breathing in the death and the ruin. Over a hundred men had died here, all at the hands of Dagon. He turned his back on the field. The dead were just some of many. The ones that lived through the battle, however, were much more important.

Mevolent would be pleased.

A Strange Killer: Chapter 4- The Signal to Panic

A whining sound carried throughout the small building, followed by the muffled moans of a person. The moans quickly turned into screams, screams of pain and agony. Then, the screams suddenly stopped, and the whining was all that was left.

The killer walked through the hall, not worried in the slightest. He wasn’t the one who had been screaming, nor the one who had caused it. However, he was looking for the person who had caused the screams. And he found him.

He opened the door, and didn’t step in. Inside were two men. One was lying on a table, face down. He had passed out from the pain. The other man stood above the first. He held a small scalpel in one of his hands. It glowed a deep red. Where it had touched the first man, cuts that burns remained.

Nixion stood there, unmoving, watching the scalpel slice open the man’s body. The smell of burning flesh was almost unbearable. It took a whole twenty minutes before the second man straightened, and satisfied that he had finished his work, walked away. He ignored Nixion as he passed him.

“Evening, Gregorivi,”Nixion said, following the man.

The grey haired man showed no sign that he had heard Nixion. He walked into another room, this one empty, and the killer followed.

“Not very nice to ignore your customer,” Nixion said, grinning. Gregorivi turned. Nixion was over a head taller than the man, but was still glared at.

“I told you, no more Strange. That one time was all you were getting.”

Nixion raised a cocky eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? We wouldn’t want any accidents happening if I was insulted, now would we?”

Gregorivi swallowed slightly, but didn’t back down. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said. “This place is the Killing Brook’s territory. If you’re not stupid enough to get them angry.”

“Really?” asked Nixion. “So I suppose you’re important to them, aren’t you?”

The man didn’t give any answer, but Nixion continued anyway.

“So, if I went around killing a couple of people here, a few of which I would guess belong to the Killing Brooks, they wouldn’t harm you? After all, if you’re important, they won’t kill you for something I’ve done.”

Gregorivi’s head lowered. The Killing Brooks were well known for being one of the more violent sorcerer gangs. If anything went wrong and you were even the slightest bit involved, you were a goner.

“What do you want, Strange?”

“That’s easy,” Nixion said. “Your services.”

tttttttttt

Nixion sat on the chair. It reminded him of a dentist’s chair. Not that Nixion was ever that well acquainted with dentists, he tended to avoid them if he could.

“So, what was that man here for?” Nixion asked lightly as Gregorivi prepared his tools.

“A symbol, of course.”Gregorivi didn’t even bother to look him. He ran a very special business. Officially, his job was a tattooist. But he was better known for providing a very unique service. Symbols. Any symbol a person wanted, Gregorivi was the man to go to.

“I’ve got to say, I’m surprised the Killing Brooks let just anyone waltz in here and get a symbol. I would have thought that they would have made you more exclusive when you started working for them.”

The man glanced up from his tools. “Just because I work for them doesn’t mean they own me,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve got to make a living somehow. Oh, and that reminds me. I’m doing this under duress, but I still expect to be paid, in full.

Nixion shrugged. Money was no real object for him. When he killed, he would normally snatch some money as well. Only with sorcerers though, otherwise people might think Nixion killed the person just for the money. He had standards.

Gregorivi stood above him, and Nixion was reminded about the screaming man.

“Don’t even think about putting my through any pain,” Nixion snapped. “I don’t want to feel a thing.”

“Fine,” Gregorivi said. “I’ll knock you out before we start. And yes,”he barked before Nixion could start speaking again, “I won’t try any funny business. If I start killing my patients, people will get worried.”

He started cleaning a scalpel, testing it and scrubbing it was a small cloth. “So, why are you here?”he asked. He gestured to the symbol of Nixion’s hand. “That one not work properly?”

The bonebreaker’s fingers brushed the symbol of the back of his right hand, and he smiled. “It worked excellently,” he said. “I’m starting to see how these could come in handy. So I’m going to get a heap of them.”

A book dropped into Nixion’s lap. “Pick what you want then, and tell me where you want them.”

“Does it matter where I have them?” Nixion asked.

Gregorivi muttered something before answering. “Well, if you’re getting a symbol to create a shield, do you want the shield to come from your hand, your arm, or your foot, hm? Where it is matters.”

After Nixion had picked what he had wanted, and told him where they should be, Gregorivi raised his eyebrow. “That’ll take hours, you know. Maybe I won’t finish until tomorrow.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world,” Nixion said, settling into his chair.

“Okay then.” Gregorivi tapped something on the side of the chair, and symbols pulsed. Nixion felt as if he was being pulled into the chair, and before he knew it, he was unconscious.

Ivy's Fanfic

So, if you haven't heard, which most of you haven't, I'm making a fanfic based on Valkyrie V. Cain's story, about Ivy [Insert Last Name Here (I forget, alright?)]
I could use my own ideas, but her magic is pretty much perfectly what I need
So, I haven't started yet, but I can tell you that a lot of this story will, in my head, have this playing in the background
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=936oRZXcAsw
So, basically, I'm trying to make it awesome, with a bit of badassery mixed in. I've got a great idea for it. Hopefully, I'll get it done
Are you starting to see why this is a fanfic year?
Alright, more things to come, if homework lets up a bit

(To Be Titled) Chapter 1: Let the Games Begin

If you guys could come up with a title for me, I'd much aprreciate it

 

The man walked through the corridors of the German Sanctuary. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he walked and a slow pace. His black three-piece suit with a velvet red tie was expensive, and his light brown hair straight and tidy, combed back. He wasn’t too tall or short, too narrow or wide, but he was good looking. He managed to draw attention to himself with every movement, precise and careful. Every step he took, every time he shifted his shoulders or moved his hands, it all had a look of formality about it. A careful elegance.

The man had a small smile on his face. He was being lead through the Sanctuary by the Administrator. He was an important person, not just to the German’s, but to Sanctuaries worldwide. His dark brown eyes scanned everything around him.  His footsteps were soft. The man’s name was Charles Decorous.

“Mr. Decorous,” a voice said, and Charles eyes found the source. The Grande Mage of the German Sanctuary, Dirich Whrait.

“Grand Mage,” Charles said, and gave a small bow of his head. Although he didn’t work in Germany, it was always important to be polite. You never know when any old person could one day be extremely helpful.

“I’m glad you did well,” Whrait said, trying to keep his face expressionless, but unable to stop the relief present on his features.

Charles raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Did well didn’t exactly describe how difficult Charles’ job was, and how he had managed to succeed against all odds.

None of the other Elders were present, because Whrait didn’t want them to know that he had employed Charles to find something that was never meant to be missing in the first place.

“May I see it?” The Grand Mage asked, and held out his hand. Charles reluctantly handed it over. He wasn’t certain what the artifact was, but he had spent his whole life perfecting his knowledge of them, and could sense the power coming off it. If he had known beforehand that it was this powerful, he wouldn’t allow Whrait to employ his skills, and would simply find it himself. More likely than not he would destroy it.

The Grand Mage held it up to the light, as if trying to determine if it was genuine. He looked back at Charles. “Thank you, Mr. Decorous. I have your fee ready.”

“If you don’t mind, Grand Mage, I would like to study it for a while,” Charles said, motioning his head at the artifact still in Whrait’s hand. “It is a hobby of mine, and this is very intriguing to me.”

Whrait plastered a polite smile on his face that failed to look real. “This artifact is the heart of Germany, Mr. Decorous,” he said. “It’s been missing for a long time. It disappeared during a war.”

Charles tilted his head slightly. To a regular person, that sentence would probably mean nothing. But Charles spent his whole life assessing everything around him.

A war. Not the war. The war with Mevolent was called The War by everyone. There had been very few magical wars previous to that, and besides, from the rumours Charles had heard, the artifact had been seen early in the war.

There had been no magical wars since, so the logical assumption was that it had been a mortal war. And although regular sorcerers could fight in any war they please, the Sanctuaries all agreed that it would be forbidden for any of them to get involved in any mortal war. They couldn’t risk their actions fuelling another magical war.

Charles allowed himself a small smile, although he lowered his head so Whrait wouldn’t see it. Did he just find evidence that the German Sanctuary could have been involved in a mortal war?

Leverage, if he would ever need it.

 He looked up again. “Very well, Grand Mage. If there’s nothing else, I’ll just collect my fee and depart back for Ireland. It’s been a long time since I’ve been home.”

The Grand Mage nodded, and handed Charles an envelope. He didn’t bother checking its contents; he simply pocketed it and walked off.

As he exited the Sanctuary, his phone rang. He frowned at the caller ID, and answered the call.

“I didn’t think I would hear from you in a while, Agis.”

There was a silence on the other end for what seemed like ages. Then suddenly, a man sighed. “I figured it out Charles.”

Charles got into a taxi that looked more like a Mercedes. “What did you figure out Agis?” he asked distractedly.

“It, Charles. The puzzle. In Switzerland. I figured it out Charles. I finally did it.”

Charles eyes widened as he remembered. He sat there for a moment, thoughts racing through his head. Then he grinned. “That’s great Agis!” he said enthusiastically.

Agis was silent for a little while longer. “Charles… I had to tell them.”

Charles mood suddenly dropped. “Tell who?”

“They came for me. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

“Who did you tell?” Charles let his temper get away from him.

“It… doesn’t matter who. All you need to know is that news is going to spread like mad Charles, but only to the right people.”

Charles didn’t say anything.

Agis suddenly sounded as if he were crying. “I didn’t want to… but…”

“Where are you?” Charles asked. “I’ll come get you.”

“No!” Agis’ voice was suddenly sharp. “Go to Ireland, and wait until you hear word from me.”

Charles voice turned soft. “Agis-”

“Promise me, Charles. I need you to wait, just a few weeks at most.”

Charles knew that he needed to be quick, to have a good chance. But he also knew that sometimes waiting a little while longer for a little more information could very well be the difference between success and failure.

“Alright, my friend.”

Agis didn’t say anything else, he just hung up. Charles put his phone away, troubled, but also excited. The hunt was on. He was a little disappointed he would have to wait.  But it didn’t matter. He would need that time to set up a good team.

Charles leaned back in his chair, and smiled. Yes, the hunt was definitely on.

News for 2013

This is news about my writing
I get bored halfway through writing these, so I'll keep it short
This year I'm hoping to pick a few select writings and finish them all the way through. That's the good news
The other good news is Hunger Games Fanfic is going to be finished, and I've got several new ideas
The bad news is that anything I think might get to get published, Stolen, Heroes of a Super Variety and Elements, will no longer be put on the blog
I no longer feel comfortable putting things that could one day be part of my living where anyone can see it. In a few months, anything not a fanfic or doesn't have any hope of me publishing it will be taken down as well. I've trusted you with the beginnings of my stories, and I hope I can keep trusting you not to misuse them.
Besides, they're all rough drafts, and I've got a lot of ideas about how to make them all better.
So expect 2013 to be mainly a Fanfic year. I'm sorry about that. Bellow is a list of stories that are going to be taken down

Stolen: Chapter 1 and 2
Heroes of a Super Variety: Prologue, and Chapters 1 and 2
The Element: Prologue and Chapter 1


Everything else will either continue, or just stop. I'll also be taking down information on some of my stories as well

Hope you enjoy my Fanfic year of 2013

My World of SP

So, just to let you know, there are three aspects of my SP writing for now on
Nixion Strange one, which has no cannon characters. Anything that has Nix, or any other Blogland created characters
Skul and Val, which is mainly about them
And the other one which I'm just calling My World of SP, for now.
This means it's all connected. So this SP fanfic will contain Skul and Val in bits, but most of it will journey, from Ireland, with Tenacious and a criminal empire building, to America, where sinister plots are unfolding, to Italy, when mysteries are starting to rise, to Russia, with big problems, to god knows where else
Eventually, with any luck, My World of SP will come together some what. It's going to take a long time, and Skul and Val will only play a minor part, with characters I've created playing major parts. A lot of this is inspired by the forums, but I'll also be changing a lot.
Hope you have fun reading, because I'll have run writing
But I need just one thing from you- I need you to tell me where you'd like chapter one to take place. I can make it happen anywhere. In Ireland, America, Italy, Russia or if you really REALLY want, you can recommend another country and I'll make a minor chapter from that country
So comment, and wait for it to happen

Blurb- Draft

Sam thinks he's normal. Completely and utterly normal. Until the FBI kicks down his door.
Now he's running, and he's finding the answers to questions that would be better unknown.
Who is Sam? Why is he being hunted?
And what defines a human being?