[ writing dump??? ]

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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby emoji movie » Sun Mar 11, 2018 8:02 pm

    "What's up with him?"

    "Jason?"

    "Yeah."

    "Oh, his grandfather died."

    "Holy- really? Geez, must've been rough."

    "Yeah. It was actually really hard for him-- from what I hear-- he was taking care of his grandfather for the month since his parents were away on a business trip. Jason decides he needed some air, goes outside, hears a thud; grandfather is dead."

    "No way!"

    "That's not what happened."

    "Woah-- Michael, when'd you get here?"

    "Huh."

    "His grandfather died when Jason decided to go shopping for onions, and when he got back, his grandfather was collapsed 'nd stuff."

    "Really?"

    "I doubt it."

    "Hey-"

    "Oh, Jason! Yooo."

    "Hey Jason."

    "Heya Jason."

    "Listen-- guys-- it was a run."

    "What?"

    "I just went out for a run."
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don't like this one but felt like i should post it anyways

Postby emoji movie » Mon Mar 12, 2018 2:54 pm

    A runaway trolley is racing down the tracks towards five unsuspecting workers who will all be killed if the trolley runs into them. You find yourself standing next to an unattended lever which will divert the trolley onto another track. However, on the other track, there happens to be one worker who was working maintenance on the track that was supposed to be unused. By pulling the lever and causing the trolley to divert onto the other track, you will kill one worker, and five workers will be saved.

    Would you do it?

    I would. I've always believed one person was worth less than five people, and as much as I know you'd like to disagree, I know you won't, because you don't. Because you agree.

    Now imagine the scales are tilted even more: imagine one person on one particular track, and an entire city on the other track.

    That's my daily life.

    Sacrifices are necessary for my line of work- I need to break that girl's heart, and I need to shatter that little boy's dreams, and I need to frame that innocent woman- it's simply the cost for saving everyone else. Everyone has families, and lovers, and sons and daughters- so why should one person take priority over everyone else? Why is it fair that one person lives when thousands of others die? You can't answer that-- because you know that it isn't fair.

    No one is special to you in this line of work, because as soon as someone is, you begin to wonder whether they can be worth more than five people, or whether they can be worth more than a city, or whether they can be worth more than the world and the universe and beyond.

    I was twenty-nine when I met her.

    It was mid-summer; the air had been soggy and soaked with the warm heat of summer. She was walking through the market-- as was I-- when she dropped her bag of groceries. Of course, her vegetables spilled out all over the floor, and I cringed. That must've been embarassing. Reaching my hand over and picking up some of the fruits that littered the floor, I laughed it off as her face grew increasingly red, and apologized profusely. I remarked that she was clumsy-- she said something that I forgot-- and we continued talking as we walked home. Of course, my home wasn't in the same direction as hers, but I felt a strange force of attraction that spun between us, and I lied and said it was.

    We grew closer, and talked through texts at night and through the day. She told me her secrets, and I told her mine. Eventually, I grew to know her. The way she brushed her hair out of the way when cooking, or the way she clutched her cheeks when she was embarrased, or the way her face bloomed a beautiful red. The way she tied up her hair when she was running, and the way it cascaded down when she let it free.

    She was unpredictable, she was smart and clever and funny, she was Anastasia.

    I remember one cold winter day, when I told her if she wanted to get coffee and go on a walk. I remember walking side-by-side down the park, chuckling at jokes and playfully pushing one another. I remember the way her eyes lit up when she spotted a park that she went to as a child nad ran towards it. I remember laughing so hard when she got stuck in the baby swing, and I remember the sky growing dark and dotted with stars as the two of us sat on the swings, our breaths crystallizing in the air. I remember asking her about her dad, and her eyes darkening and me changing the subject.

    I remember her leaning her head on mine as she confided in me, and my heart flaring inside my chest. As if I'd swallowed a fire-cracker, my heart pounded and my hands felt sweaty and nervous, warmth spreading inside me. I didn't know this feeling-- I'd never felt it before, but I knew it wasn't a good feeling. I loved the feeling, and that was the worst thing about it.

    I remember not talking for a week after that, before she called me up and asked if I wanted coffee. I told her yes after calling her a hipster, and she simply sent an emoji with rolling eyes. Y'know the way you subconsiously smile at your phone when you're talking to someone you like? Well that was what happened, and my heart dropped when I realized it.

    She was unpredictable, she was smart and clever and funny, and she was the daughter of my assigned target.

    The next year, mid-summer, when the heat was intense and sweat dampened my shirt, when I finally killed him, and it was over and the city was safe. I knew Anastasia knew who her father was and what he did, so I expected her to understand, but when she walked into the room her father and I had been standing across from one another, I didn't expect to see her run to her father rather than me.

    My body ached and my bones felt as if they had been shattered, and soon, my legs gave way, and I fell onto my back, my head hitting the floor with a loud thunk. As blurred as my vision happened to be, and as far away as the voices seemed to be, I could still hear her tears.

    I didn't see her for a week. When I saw her again, she walked straight into me, just as it had been the day we met. For a brief moment, it was awkward fumbling and apologies until she breathed out a sigh and asked me a question that turned my blood cold.

    "So what am I to you?"

    I stood there, speechless, unable to reply to that simple question she asked.

    I wanted to answer. I wanted to answer so much. But I couldn't. No one can be special to you in this line of work, because as soon as someone is, you begin to know that some people are worth more than five people, more than a city, and more than the world and the universe and beyond.

    "Y'know what, I can help. I'll tell you what I'm not-- I'm not a little girl. I'm not naive. I'm not someone you can trick and use again and again. Goodbye 'superboy', have fun being a good person."

    She turned her back, and started walking away. All I could do was watch.
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Mon Mar 12, 2018 8:09 pm

Faaaa
do you want some heart with those feels, Miss XD
bECAUSE MINE IZ BRUKE
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby emoji movie » Tue Mar 13, 2018 1:11 pm

    His hand fit so perfectly between her fingers, small appendages wrapped between the warm blankets of her hands. His eyes were blue and beautiful and perfect; such a blue that the ocean repeated itself within them. His hair was a brown swamp, dancing together in unison as the wind swept by. His legs were short and stubby, tiny thumps following each footstep. He was beautiful.

    And she hated him.

    With each look-- all she could see was him. She knew it wasn't his fault, that his every smile and darting eyes were replaced with features that once graced his face-- and she knew that he deserved better. Within those eyes, she could hear the ocean, but she could also hear the pinching of skin and the tears that spilled.

    "Mommy!"

    A voice jerked her out of her thoughts and she froze, an attempted smile gracing her lips as her child glanced up at her. "Mommy look!"

    She grimaced.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    thank u ranger !! hehe
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Tue Mar 13, 2018 6:30 pm

u lady
i will take the child if u don't want him
i will too
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby emoji movie » Thu Mar 29, 2018 4:53 pm

    His legs dangled off the edge, skin tucked underneath a new suit he had bought that day. A flower was clasped in his hand, and he slowly picked petals off the stem. "To do." He plucked a petal, glancing down beneath his feet. "Or to don't." He glanced up at the sky.

    Leaning backwards, he dropped the flower beside him and launched his hands backwards and to his side, acting as beams of support. Keeping his right hand planted, he reached his left hand out and grasped a bag of sunflower seeds he had brought with him. Tossing a few seeds to the side, he watched as birds fluttered towards the seeds and pecked at the snack. He sighed, and closed his eyes. The sound of distant sirens rang in his ears, and he smiled.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    take him ranger he needs a better bro uwu
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Thu Mar 29, 2018 8:43 pm

Feed the birds... Tuppence a bag...
Tuppence... tuppence... Tuppence a bag!

I will take this dude and I will hang with him forevermore :D
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby emoji movie » Sun Apr 01, 2018 2:31 pm

    He was dracula, he was a dork, he was an image and a dream that drifted between realities and dreams, he was beyond stupid but that’s what made the world seem to cave inwards and revolve around him. He was the black sky wrapped around white stars, he was the panging scent after rain that shot clarity through heads, he was the warmth of a blanket wrapped around skin, he was the soft voice that sung songs of sleep. He was cocky and confident but that’s what made the world seem to cave inwards and revolve around him. He was kind and understanding, he was loud and crazy, he was insecure and self-deprecating, he was appreciative and wonderful. So very wonderful. And he was hers, and he would never be mine. I miss him, but being around him was suffocating knowing that he would be anything but mine, so I pushed him away, knowing that if I hadn’t, I would never be happy, and I would never be satisfied. I am further from someone who I so desperately crave, but I did so knowing that habits can be broken. To the boy who I call dracula, and to the boy who inspires my dreams, and to the boy who will never look my way— goodbye.
    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Ranger stop stealing my characters soon I’ll have none left because I keep hurting them
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Re: [ writing dump??? ] / stormy's challenge

Postby Ranger of the North » Mon Apr 02, 2018 2:56 pm

Fine. I'll hug this one for a decade or two, and then I'll start thinking about returning her ;)
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hhhh

Postby emoji movie » Sun Apr 15, 2018 7:14 pm

    I ran away. So what of it? I'm 15, I'm angry and pissed at everything around me, and I'm flat broke on a bus. Usually when strangers see a mere 15 year old on the bus, they don't really think about it. Much like if you see a kid running down the street or a pair of siblings play-fighting, you don't really jump to the conclusion that the kid is running from a murderer and the siblings are actually duking it out. It's really much easier to think 'oh kids will be kids' instead of getting involved. That's why busing through the city with a pocket full of seven nickels seemed like a great idea-- because I could just be angry at everything around me while going nowhere in particular with no questions.

    Of course, that was maybe one or two hours ago. The sun had long since sunk beneath the rouse of day and the bus driver seemed to get increasingly annoyed at my constant prescene. I hated troubling the bus driver, but I'd much rather trouble them that be stranded in the city-- broke as I've mentioned many times over-- at night. So me being angsty and annoying, spend roughly twenty more minutes on the bus casually being driven around when something happens.

    Someone sits down beside me. At first I'm thinking 'oh my god go away I just need to be pissed', but as the silence stretches on that annoyance turns into more of a 'well this is the part where I get murdered'. It takes awhile, but eventually I speak up. I'm meek and quiet and I can't tell if they hear me at first because they barely move, but I manage to squeak out, "Hi, what do you want?"

    They purse their lips and furrow their brow. Apparently that's not how you greet people. I spend a moment studying their face and it was apparent that she was roughly the same age as me. My next thought happens to be about her maybe running away too, but here's the thing, she was wearing fancy ass clothes and seemed rather happy moments ago, rather than a bundled package deal of hatred that was myself. So either she was a pretty happy runaway, or just out.

    "Nothing, I'm just bored."

    I grind my teeth together. Bored? She was bored? I was running away from hell and she was bored? I held back an angry reply at her response and forced the least passive-aggressive face on.

    "Great, could you please leave?"

    She frowned at my suggestion but nodded, getting up and moving away from me. It wasn't a crowded bus so it wasn't hard for her to choose a place that wasn't five rows within my personal space, but her being her, chose the row behind me. Great. It was, of course, better than nothing, so I tried my damned best to ignore her prescence until she got off or I got thrown off. I spent another ten or so minutes listening to the whishing of doors and the ringing of the bell before she speaks to me again.

    "Do you have a phone I could borrow?"

    I scowl, and turn to my left where she was standing. "No-- does it look like I have a phone on me?"

    She frowns in reply too and holds her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, I just need to call my mom."

    "Is there anyone else you can bother?"

    She sighed heavily, bringing a hand to her forehead and brushing away the hair in front of her eyes. I can see how tired she looks, and suddenly I feel sorry. I don't know what she's been through or why she needed the phone specifically, so I really shouldn't have been that rude. Reaching into my pocket, I picked out five nickels and hand it to her.

    "Use it on a payphone."

    Her eyes light up and she reaches out to take them, a slight smile gracing her face. "Thank you-- thank you so much." She turns to glance around her and takes a seat in the row across from mine, remembering my distaste in her casually sitting beside me. "Uhm-- my name is Anastasia. How about you?"

    I held back an annoyed sigh.

    "I'm Simon."

    She instantly grins. "Hi Simon! It's nice to meet you."

    "Listen-- I didn't give you that money because I wanted to be friends. I just wanted you to leave me alone."

    She stares at the floor dejectedly, turning away from me and glancing at the window. "Sorry," She whispers, and a tug in my stomach causes my insides to churn. Breathing out a sigh, I pursed my lips.

    "So what brings you out here?"

    She turns to face me with a curious look, "I was going to ask you the same question." I chuckle lightly, though I know it's mostly forced and awkward, a little laughter might help her feel better.

    "Well I'm," I begin, pausing. Was it smart to tell her I was running away? I mean, I didn't know her, and it was 11pm on a Thursday night far away from where I live. Would it even matter. I shrug inwardly, and cock my head. "I'm on an adventure." Her eyes search me and land on my face.

    "Well, humour me then-- what are you looking for?"

    I roll my eyes. "Not every adventure needs a goal." She smiles at me, and I challenge her with my eyes.

    "But every adventure needs a motivation, right?"

    "Wrong-- sometimes people just want to go out y'know."

    "You don't strike me as one of those people."

    "You don't know me."

    The silence falls again, and she lets herself beside me. "I'm running away," She whispers softly, and my eyes widen slightly, though I try to hide it from her. "You were just looking for your mother, though." She nods.

    "I was-- I'm running away to her."

    I don't ask anymore about it, and she doesn't explain. It takes awhile for me to speak up again, but when I do, I decide to admit the real reason I was out this late.

    "I'm running too."

    She cocks her head. "From what?"

    "I dunno-- from life, I guess? Like, I'm just kind of, um, tired, I guess."

    She nods, staring down at her feet. "I know."

    We talk for a bit more after that, and we share about our interests and what we want to do in the future and our favourite foods. It ranges from questions about life and the future to questions about animals and books. She's surprisingly easy to talk to. I learn that her favourite food is pasta, she likes singing and dancing and wants to be an actor. I learn she has a dog named Hugo-- I learn her favourite kind of books were comics and she was super into Marvel. I never learn the full reason why she was running, and she never learns mine either. For a good thirty minutes, I felt human-- and a part of me likes to think she did too.

    When the bus begins making its way to one of the final stops near my house, I pull myself up and away from the seat, and she doesn't follow. Right. "So," I begin. I wasn't about to ask for her phone number, she'd think I was weird or something. Maybe we'd just poke one another on facebook or something. "So," She replies back smoothly, her tone dropping slightly.

    "I'll see you later Anastasia?" I pitch, and she finges a smile. We both knew that probably wouldn't happen.

    "Give me a challenge."

    "What?"

    "Give me something you think I should do."

    I pause for a moment, raking over our entire conversation. Here was a girl I had never met before and will never see again, and she was charming and smart and really way too extroverted-- and she was asking for something she should put on her 'to-do list'. I grin and glance down at her. "Try out for a musical, and sing in front of a crowd, and just get out there. I expect to see you on broadway soon."

    She smiles.

    "Now give me something."

    She doesn't hesitate. "Tell someone a genuine compliment-- a complete stranger-- every day."

    "When should I stop?"

    "Whenever you feel like it."

    I grin, and we shake hands. "By the way, your hair looks nice," I fire at her, and she rolls her eyes with a slight tugging of her mouth upwards. To imagine I had hated this girl less than an hour ago, and here I was complimenting her.

    The bus pulls into the nearest station and I wave goodbye to her who fakes an air kiss that I roll my eyes to. My stomach wobbles and lurches as I pull out of the bus station, and as the humid and soggy air hits my face, enveloping me in warmth, I began to regret not asking for her contact. I could hear the bus doors creaking behind me as they closed, and I turned to watch as the bus pulled away, leaving me behind in a gust of warmth.

    I never saw her again. She never made it onto broadway, though maybe she did try out. Me, on the other hand-- I managed to compliment someone every day for the next three weeks before they sounded generic and stupid and ingenuine so I stopped. Sometimes I still think about her, but I don't dwell on it for that long.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    ONE MISSED CALL [Anastasia My Love<33]
    - hi teddy! i'm on my way to the hospital right now! you wouldn't believe what happened today, i swear i saw this kid while i was biking that looked exactly like an oompa loompa. also he looks like this kid i met on a bus maybe 15, 16 years ago? yeah, pretty wild. didn't want to embarass myself though, so i just let it slide. anyways, be there soon. love you, ugly.
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