[sharkbuddie]

Oh desy yus i wuvs you

[sharkbuddie]

(Ah! Here's a little story to go with it. ^^ Part of an RP between me and a friend.)

Years had gone by since the war, yet the soldiers, the stories, and the memories remained. For the most part, life went back to normal. The world rebuilt. The people moved on. And war seemed to be a thing of the past, for the most part. It was always there, of course. It always had been. But nothing like what it had been. But for the Texas family, it was still a way of life. After the war, O'riley, still an AI, mysteriously stopped working. CeCe had tried as hard as she could to bring him back, and went rampant in the process. Othello went back to her home country of France, writing to everyone when she got the chance. Which was more often than you would think. Despite her extensive training in technology and the demand of her time, she seemed to; somehow, make room for the ones she had once fought with. Piotr had died soon afterwards. The UNSC had labeled it natural, but they all knew better. Prometheus, upon request, found out it had been a mutation in his Spartan-genes. A rare one. Which was also the reason he looked old when they all first met. And then, of course, there was Desmond. The people of the UNSC had been breathing down his father's neck from the second he was born because of his parentage. A supersoldier at birth was very valuable. But it came with drawbacks. For the first few years of his life, Desmond couldn't walk. But he grew out of that luckily. But not the nightmares. Those still haunted him. They grew less frequent with age, but still. It was bothersome. After a few years of going to regular school, it was found that Desmond wasn't supposed to be there. He was hardwired for battle. Yes, he was smart. But he wasn't for this. So his father pulled him out, giving him to Prometheus to learn. Which proved to be effective. Since then, Desmond had been asked for even more. And, eventually, Tex could no longer deny them. And so, the Texas family packed up, heading off to a training facility. Desmond was the person asked for, but there was no argument when Tex and the rest of the bunch came with. Everyone knew what they were capable of. Thus, they let it alone. And so, there he was. Desmond strode through the halls, one eye black, his lip split. These were things he wore all too often. The others he trained with hated him for what he was, and hated him even more when he always excelled in his training. He was larger than most of the others, standing at a proud six-foot-seven. His black hair was buzz cut, his sea-green eyes always sparked with something dangerous and rebellious, much like his mother's had been. That was another thing. He never learned who his mother had been. He'd never really asked. Nor did he want to know. Desmond had found pictures of a woman who looked like him a little bit more than once, but he'd never asked. He figured it was an old friend of someone in his family, and left it at that. But back to now, Desmond kept his head down. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, grinding his teeth. His entire body ached as bruises began to form, but he hid this as best he could. Anger swirled in the depths of his eyes, his brow inverted into an angry stare. Luckily, it was late, and almost nobody was outside. But unluckily for him, his father would be home. His unrelated uncle, too. Great. The last thing he needed was them asking about why he got beat up again. Hissing in anger, he made his way to their compartment, opening the door with a slight hiss, and stepping inside.

[DunkMasterSolas]

I really like the way you set up and delivered that short story! You have a very descriptive and capturing style. I really felt for Desmond, particularly at the end. I liked your description of his struggle with the people he trained with. The fact that he is obviously more accomplished than them, but he gets overrun by their numbers and their hatred and ends up getting hurt fairly badly. (if I read into the right, feel free to correct me.) I'd have to say the lines that were my personal favorite were these:

"That was another thing. He never learned who his mother had been. He'd never really asked. Nor did he want to know. Desmond had found pictures of a woman who looked like him a little bit more than once, but he'd never asked. He figured it was an old friend of someone in his family, and left it at that."

That made me feel so bad for him! One quick question, do you think your story would flow more with some paragraph breaks? Or do you just keep it one block of text because it's so short? I think it could go either way, but it may benefit from being broken into one or two paragraphs (though I have a distinct love of paragraphs, so it could be me.) That's really all I could see that hung me up a bit in this (and honestly it wasn't that major.) Really good job!

[sharkbuddie]

Why, thank you!

And yes! I do agree. Paragraph breaks are great! I just took this straight from an Rp post an forgot to polish it up. Many apologies.

AUAUAUA! Thank you so much! -sobs grossly on everything-

[DunkMasterSolas]

Hehe I know what that's like! And aren't paragraph breaks magical? Perhaps I love them so much now because when I was a younger little numpty I totally neglected them the poor things. ;-;

And it was no problem at all! You've done a really good job with this. Honestly it's pretty much impossible to tell that this came from a roleplay (and I even knew it was from a roleplay when I started reading it!) Once again, fabulous job! I hope other's will read this. It really is a wonderful little short!

[sharkbuddie]

Gnee~ I'm in love. ;u;

Anyways, THANK YOU SO MUCH! AUGH! I have horrid self-esteem issues, so hearing any sort ot compliment is uber weird for me. Awesome, but it's like "lolwat" at the same time. xD

YOU HAVE A VERY GOOD NIGHT FINE SIR.