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Devious Journal Entry

by =MissFleetingChance, Aug 24, 2012, 10:28:00 AM
Journals / Personal

RULES:

~No name calling, slamming Stories, negative behavior in the group.

~Be kind to others in the group.

~Everyone has an opinion, but if your opinion will hurt another's feeling DO NOT SAY IT.

~Follow the rules.

~If it has nudity in it It HAS to have a warning on it. Or It will not be accept and deleted from the group.

Punishments:

1} You will receive a warning if you violate one of the rules above and you loose the chance to have a artwork in the Artwork of the week section.

2} If you choose to ignore this warning you will be suspended from the group and allowed to re-join, if you want, in a week.

3} If you choose to cause mayhem even after your week of suspension your artwork will be removed and you will not be able to join in any contests.

4} If you choose to ignore all these rules you WILL be blacklisted and Blocked from the group, unable to join again. I will put out a group warning about you.

Redemption:

~ You do have a chance to re-join the group if you summit a Apology to the group and to the person you offended. I as the founder do not hold grudges. This is our group and I want it to say a safe haven for writers.

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Alone by =MissFleetingChance

Our Existance, Such As It Is"Well?" The old man enquired, smiling gently. His healthily rounded fingers were pressed together in thought, elbows rested on the gold-patterned wooden table. The arms of his white robe had slipped down, gathering around the pale crook of his arms, revealing the minute cloud tattoo, buried in a nest of wiry hair, which had surprised me the first time I had seen it. The first of thousands. Millions even.

"Everything is perfectly fine, as per." I settled onto the spindly chair that had materialised before the table, my disapproving shuffles making the chair sway on its skinny legs. "Is this really the best you can do?"

I very much doubted soOur Existance, Such As It Is by ~Temujinsword

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A New Rule for Natasha and StanNatasha took a glance outside the window at her three children playing in the backyard. For once they looked like they were behaving themselves and not trying to kill each other. Natasha had been waiting all afternoon for the sounds of screaming and the cries of hurt children, but that noise had not yet come.

Relaxed, Natasha turned away from the window and sat down. She picked up a celebrity gossip magazine. The cover was splashed with the name Mishelle Beckfield, wife of the famous footballer, Wayne Beckfield.

Natasha adored Mishelle Beckfield. Like herself, Mishelle had grown up on a council estate in Bedfordshire. Mishelle had got luckyA New Rule for Natasha and Stan by *Celestialhost

All But the Beautiful

Looking back now, it's odd how it all started. In some crazy, miraculous incident, I forgot my bag in the band room that day. I had to race back for it because God only knows who would try to steal the thing. Instead of finding my bag, I found a friendship; my first real camaraderie in this cruel world.

I'd seen Janell around school before- she wasn't anything spectacular. She wore her hair in frizzy curls around her head unlike the other black girls who either had tight braids or chemically straightened and dyed hair. She wasn't exactly a bean pole; she had some meat on her bones, but once again- that wasn't exactly something that stoodAll But the Beautiful by ~MikiraWolf

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Talk of the Queen"I have no idea what possessed Albert to marry that hussy Talphenia," said Lady Hilda of Little Fold.

Lady Hilda and Dame Salvia were sipping mead in Hilda's castle while their husbands were out hunting in the forest. Lady Hilda was baroness and liege lady of Little Fold, the smallest, but also the proudest fold of Foldland.

"You know I visited Talphenia in her castle at Copper Fold once," continued Hilda. "She made me take off my shoes and walk about in my hose just to keep her precious carpets clean!"

"Yes, Aunt Hilda. She did the same thing when we Dawn Guard wives were invited to the royal castle. Still, we were impressed with the beauTalk of the Queen by *Celestialhost

A Rebellion of Queens"I am not a slave or a servant! I am not your minion!" roared Tirarna, Dragon Queen and High Mistress of Garth.

Sister Crestia had just asked Tirarna to assist with chopping vegetables.

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"Never in my life have I stooped so low as to prepare food. My hands were made by the gods to chop off heads, not to chop carrots!" insisted Tirarna.

"You are happy to eat our food, but you would rather let others prepare it for you," chided Crestia.

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VioletThe renegade Time Lord known as the Watcher was in big trouble. He ran through the maze of trenches looking for an escape. In the distance he heard the thunder of artillery and the thudding of shells. Was it Kaleds shelling Thals, or Thals shelling Kaleds?

His pursuers were gaining on him. If only he could reach his TARDIS! He tripped and fell into the mud. He looked up, realising with horror that he had come to a dead end in the trench. He turned around to see his pursuers bear down on him.

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"Knuhm," he replied.

"Knuhm? Is that not the name of the Egyptian deity whose temple we visited in ancient Egypt, in Elephantine?"

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Take Me Back To The TimeTake me back to the time
      When we met in the garden
      Where you caressed my face
      And sung to me like I was an angel
      When we kissed my heart sung
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      every time our lips met
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What we areI want to feel that vive again
Running through my very veins
Knowing that I can create something
With my very fingers
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We're all the same in every way
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I breath life into characters
I give a story a backbone
I make a thrilling tale
I create images on a canvas
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Intertwining and twisting
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So don't try to change me
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It was a summer day like any other. School was out, the birds were singing, the trees and the grass were greener than usual, yadda yadda yadda. It was one of those days that made you want to relax and enjoy life.
I decided to do so by skipping work and watching whatever was on BBC America.
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We are a band of people who love to write and or type. Stories constantly flow through our heads and new people are born into stories. We live to give life to new ideas, stories, poems, and anything under the sun. We were born to enlighten the younger generations to new plans and ideas. We simply write to Create new worlds