'Awkward Moments' Book 6 EpilogueAwkward MomentsWritten, Story Design and Character Design by Danton Damnark (DantonDamnark)Original Concept by Lauren Faust (frye-flye)Tick-Tock-MockEpilogueJiktin, Danton and Yulin were, once again, sitting at their usual spot at the cafe."So you're saying she had a crush on you in school?" asked Yulin."Sounds like she still does" said Jiktin.Danton was still in a state of shock from the events from earlier today."I still don't understand why she made me wear a maid's uniform while I cleaned" said Danton.Yulin smiled and tried to hold back a laugh."I can think of a reason" said Yulin."What is it-" said Danton before he realized what it was.Danton blushed."Oh..." continued Danton.Just then Frilly and Lilly ran past the group but doubled back to meet them up. Frilly was breathing heavily and couldn't talk."Hi everyone" said Lilly who too was out of breath."Why are you two so tired?" asked Danton."No reason" said Lilly
I am the One_AC PoemsAltaïr Ibn-La'Ahad:I am the one who seeks Knowledge,Hidden within these ancient relics,Treasures of uncontrollable Power.I am the one who seeks Leadership,Guide the truehearted warriors,To Fight off the evil within our World.I am the Mentor.-----Ezio Auditore:I am the one who seeks Vengeance,For the deaths of my family,And the Lives of the Innocent.I am the one who seeks for the Truth,To know my enemy's plans,In order to Stop their sinful Conspiracy.I am the Messenger.-----Connor Kenway:I am the one who seeks for Justice,Fighting for what is right,To gain Victory from my foe's defeat.I am the one who seeks for Freedom,Encounter endless battles,To bring Peace for all people of the Nation.I am the Warrior.-----Desmond Miles:I am the one who seeks for Guidance,To uncover the past,From my Ancestors before me.I am the one who seeks for Courage,Fight through the struggles,In order to Save the Future from Disaster.I am the Chosen One.------Momochan:34
Sundropo n some days I watch you rise and ragewith a new yearfirework fervour–untamed and glorious,pulling the years togetherwith a snap of your fingers.but some days you are languid,stretching like the summer dustingof freckles along your forearms, theslumberous strands of hair shutteringyour sky-eyes from the morning light.on these days, I think the earth spinsslower and the birds sing a littlequieter. on these days, I lookat you and I think:sundrop.
mushroom cloud "an explosion", she said I turned to ask her what she was talking about when I caught sight of the tv screen, and for the tiniest of moments I caught myself thinking that there's something beautiful about that much energy and so much destruction; energy - would it wipe me off my feet? maybe melt the skinright off of my bones? heat, death and poison, I don't believe there's much you or Iwould be able to feel dying in those flames, and I should probably be ashamed that I
The sound of an approaching train282 days into the yearand I’m still not living, lostin this urban ballet, this cityof blinding lights. We knewa place where no cars can go,where even the cricketscouldn’t be heard - fifty one milesdown an old country road, where the wildflowersgrow like frilly laces, moonblossomstearing through the earth.You could feel the sky in yourthought out gaze, ignoring the starsand drifting into five am on velvetwaves just about to break.We don’t go there anymore.This thing between us setthe night on fire but it only lasteda little while. I still have that firesmoldering in my ashtray heart, butflowers aren’t apologies. You’ve enduredso many storms that you became one – I wore you like a bruise.I’ll be on the next train to Vegas, dreamingabout photographs from another time.Love is a smoke made from the fumesof sighs – may as well buy anotherpack. My lungs are empty anyway.
For HerSkin so pale and so innocent; yet warm and soft.Bright is her eyes, always lit by day or by night.Her warm embrace; like a maiden of the heavens taking the late life of a man.The way I feel with her, is a way I have so little felt;Tis love! The bittersweet fruit that drives an able bodied person;To the very end of their sanity or to their discovery of true happiness!Oh god who art in heaven, why must I love!For she the vile woman that fate has bestowed upon my desires;Feels not the same as I.
A Clone of The Red WheelbarrowA clone of The Red WheelbarrowHidden from thepeopleis a charredmeadowbathed in thebodiesof dead freedomfighters.