Lady Asphyxia

[size=1]Rae looked at the carnage before her. She'd seen worse. She had. Lord, she'd been in worse. Her friends had died in worse. Agents she knew had perished in worse. The thought wasn't much comfort to her, somehow. How long would it take for one of [i]her[/i] agents to die in an accident like this? When would it be her turn? Would she even manage to make it to the end of this mission, to make it into the ASIS? Morbid thoughts, but sadly realistic. She loved SYF, she really did. But every mission -- every injury, every death, every lie she told -- killed her just a little bit more. Her shell became a little harder every time. Every day she could see herself turning into what Liam had been. And it scared her. Shitless. She didn't want to be like that -- she wanted to be happy, and innocent, and able to trust people and believe that everything will be okay. Rae looked around again, eyes slightly unfocused, entire being focussed on the struggle to confront this particular evil and take it in her stride. [i]Don't let it undermine you values,[/i] Adam had once said. He'd turned out to be a lying traitor, but she'd been with him too long to ignore his words. He'd known so much -- about everything. When he was younger, he'd kept files -- much like she did. Everything was in there, from current spouse to favourite colour to who their current partner was. And, of course, there was always a file on the current partner, too. Rae's eyes teared up. She was tired. So very, very tired of this destruction. She wanted someone -- preferably male -- to wrap his arms around her and hug her and tell her that it'd be all right. But that hadn't happened since she was a child, and it probably wouldn't happen for a long time. So, instead of letting the tears fall, she made herself useful and prepared the first aid kits they'd need if anyone got out of this mess alive.[/size]

[size=1]OOC: Apparently, I was wrong. Sorry it's so short. I don't have time... Rae looked around, checked the time, and spoke to Liam through the radio that wasn't there. She cursed at the untimeliness of it's decision to cut out, and then made her way along the corridors of the complex, wondering where in [i]hell[/i] everyone was. Except for the bodies, people seemed to be clearing out left, right and center, and it wasn't just the Triads -- who didn't get far whenever she saw them. She wondered what would make them clear out that fast, just as she ran into Liam and, furhter down the corridor, Bradley. "Hey," she smiled, happy to have found someone. "My radio's out. What's happening?" Bradley's eyes widened, as Liam -- ignoring whatever lingering pain in his ears -- exploded. "Why the hell didn't you stay with Bailey? If you're radio's out, then you should be teamed. You know that. What if, oh, you know, there was, say [i]a bomb[/i], in here? How would you know to get out." Rae's face broke into a grin and then faltered. Liam joked, yes, but he didn't do the brotherly thing, like he was now. And he didn't do [i]ifs[/i] or [i]buts[/i]. "There's a bomb in here, isn't there?" "We think so, yes." "Ah."[/size]

[size=1][b]OOC:[/b] TUN is The Unholy Newt. And yes, I did catch that, but Bradley wasn't told that, so I think he escaped before the Triads [i]could[/i] set him free. At least, that's what TUN told me. Anyway, guys, the reason for this note was something else entirely. Just letting you knwo that I'll be away from this afternoon [Friday] until Friday next week, and completely out of contact. So I won't be able to post.[/size]

[size=1]For some people, I suspect the Atkins diet will work tremendously well. There was this study done, and apparently the different type of blood you have affects what you should eat for you to stay healthy and thin. For instance, apparently O type blood should eat protein, and less carbs -- if an O type person went on the Atkins diet, they'd probably do better than someone better suited to eating carbs or fruit and vegetables. [Isn't it amazing the sorts of things you pick up in the work experience lunch room?] I mean, that could be one factor to why people do better on some diets than others, although, I'm not too sure how factual that theory is. To me, that sort of dieting doesn't seem healthy. Since I've spent my entire life having peopel drum into me that you shouldn't diet, you should 'adopt a longterm lifestyle change' -- which means better food, more exercise, and healthier living generally. To me, that seems to be the best -- and, yes, hardest -- way to getting healthy.[/size]

[size=1]I hate to tell you...but Geocities doesn't allow direct linking. Your banner isn't really showing up, for me at least. If you want a host that does allowed direct linking, go to angelfire. That's the only free host I know of that allows direct linking that I know of.[/size]

[size=1]While others here seem to enjoy a mix of genre's, I have to say that I prefer Fantasy to Sci-Fi, because Fantasy allows you to create a completely different world. One of the best Fantasy books I've read have been [i]The Dark Jewels Trilogy[/i], which is Fantasy, definately, but not in the classic Medieval Time Period that Fantasy is often thought as. It has the rules and regulations of Chivalry, but the women aren't confined to skirts, and the clothes are a more modern style, which I find intriguing. To me, fantasy offers a broader scope -- as long as you can imagine it, you can use it. You don't have to explain why it's there, like with Sci-Fi -- this world just exists. I guess that's why I find it appealing.[/size]

[size=1]Rae rubbed her hands over her eyes, reviewing the session. It was much like always -- everything she said led to Liam. Speaking of whom, he hadn't been hovering in his usual Liam-esque fashion, which meant that there was something less than normal going on. She set off to find him, frowning slightly at the lack of [i]anyone[/i]. Except for Bailey, she couldn't find any SYF team members. Her frown became less and less slight as she looked into the bedrooms, then disappeared slightly when she saw Liam and Zharra in his room. She cleared her throat and smiled sweetly at the two of them. "I can leave, if you want me to...but you know the rules about cohabitation -- not in the dorms." It got their attention, certainly. Liam glared and Zharra's eyes flickered dangerously. "Actually, I was just looking for Kat and Malania. They don't seem to be anywhere." Rae peered closely at Liam. "...Are you okay? You seem a bit..." She trailed off and glanced at Zharra, who shook her head. No, Liam wasn't okay. And there was only ever one thing that made him not okay; the memories of missions. More specifically; Jess. Rae's eyes softened a bit, and she looked at the ground. She could remember vividly every detail of that day -- including the heartbroken look Liam had when he let it slip through. She licked her lips and started to say something, then stopped. What could she say? [i]Yeah, look, sorry you had to kill your twin sister.[/i] That would go down well. Rae's eyes zoomed in on the Desert Eagle in Liam's hands. Was that another one on his back? So that's what had brought it on -- he'd opened the case. A thought occured to her, and she voiced it with sincere interest -- "Hey, Liam, do you remember the Metal Storm? Where did that end up, anyway?"[/size]

[size=1]From what I know, Raiha was already a mod a while back, but [i]she[/i] decided to leave the position. :p And James has always stressed that it isn't how many posts you have, it's how well you use them. And Kyo, don't worry. If the mods feel the thread has run it's course, they'll close it. If, however, other people have questions that can be answered by the topic, why close the thread? Basically, to become a mod, you follow the rules to the best of your ability, and try to be a good example. At least, this is what I've heard. So...really, to become a mod, you have contribute positively to OtakuBoards. Heh.[/size]

[size=1]Gah. At the moment, I'm wallowing in a deep pit of shame; I can't actually [i]remember[/i] what a Prepositional Phrase is. So, until I manage to dig my books up, I'll just do some basics, and if I accidentally change a Prep. Phrase, I'll edit. The most important thing to remember about plants is[color=red][You should probably have a colon (I think!) here so that the reader pauses][/color] water them daily. Do not overwater them. Don[color=red]'[/color]t forget to pull [color=red]out[/color] all the nearby weeds. Also keep them sheltered[color=red],[/color] yet give them lots of sunlight. DO NOT TOUCH THEM! Do not [color=red]overdo[/color] the pesticides. If you taunt them with fire or insult tem you will hurt their feelings. The last thing you want is a crying plant. Once it is done growing[color=red],[/color] check to see if it[color=red]'[/color]s [color=red]poisonous[/color] or not. If it is then by all [color=red]means[/color] EAT IT. Heh. The bit at the made me laugh. ^.^ It sounds exactly like my friend. Cheers.[/size]

[size=1]Geh, I'll give it a shot. I'm not the best at poetry. It's the white of cold things The cold of angel songs The white of lost but not lonely Of calm and of unafraid. It's that knowledge of happiness The power of joy The end before the finish And the start of a journey. It's peace and love And a time of sleep. This is what Winter Should be like.[/size]

[size=1]"The Commander is holding off on the infiltration. The Singaporean police feel that there's too much heat around with the restaurant debacle." Rae slowed her pace to watch the conversation. Matt was talking to someone new who was carrying a laptop under one arm and looking quite appealing. She coughed. "Rae? Hey, I'd like to introduce you to Callum, he's one of my desk jockeys. Information and the like. Callum, this is Rae, my little sister." Callum smiled and put out his hand, "Pleased to meet you Rae." Rae smiled at him. "Information, hey? What are your qualifications?" She asked, always ready to indulge a little professional competition. "Industrial Espionage, Information Technology, if you can call those qualifications. There's a lot of degrees behind that, but it's easier to just give you the cover." She nodded. "I don't know what you call mine. I just know things. And I have as close to a perfect memory as one could get...which bothers Liam a bit. He can forget things and I well...can't.." She looked away. She'd gone how long before dragging Liam into the conversation? Callum looked at Matt; "Liam? Is he the guy that you made me read all those mission files on? The one that tends to have free reign?" Matt grinned and shook his head, "You could say that." "Because it's true," Rae injected sourly. "He could break the rules and the worst he gets is Juvenile Detention. Us, we'd get prison." "Or worse." Interjected Liam calmly. Rae glanced in surprize at him. Where the hell had he come from? She recovered herself quickly and smiled wryly at Callum. "Callum, this is Liam." Liam just stood there, and Rae rolled her eyes. "He never learnt how to be social." "Yeah." Matt looked toward Callum. "So, if you want to come to dinner on Thursday night?" "Sure." Matt looked at Liam too, albiet reluctantly. "You're welcome too, if you'd like to come, Liam."[/size]

[size=1]I'm not going to argue with you, Samurai. I do know how annoying it is when people pass off your emotions as nothing. But I do have two points to make. (And after them, if you want to continue this discussion, feel free to PM me.) The first, is that when I say 'angst', I mean in the dictionary meaning of the word: angst [i]n.[/i] A feeling of anxiety or apprehension often accompanied by depression. Which is actually pretty much what most teenagers -- myself included -- feel when their hormones go rampant on them. The second point, is that I was referring to his poetry. There may have been parts where that was unclear, such as: [i]Anyway, when you wrote this, you were most probably angry, or depressed so...cheer up. The teens only last another six years! And teenage angst, well, only about a year.[/i] And I can understand that. The second last sentence referred to the teens being the most hormonally active, and the last sentence was about the teenage angst years, in writing. I'm sorry if I've offended [i]either[/i] of you by misrepresentations, but seeing as I'm ill, I have a temperature, and I'm not the best at the moment, I'm sure you'll forgive me. Oh, and just one more point. This [i]is[/i] a Poetry Forum. If Akabane wanted people to sympathise with his emotions -- not his poetry -- he would have gone to the Lounge. Sorry if, once again, I've come off curt. Anyway, Akabane, your last two lines remind me of something I dcame up with in [i]my[/i] teen angst stage (which, by the way, I still do on occasions. ^.~): Happiness is a state of mind, depression is reality. Heh. Thought I'd share that.[/size]

[size=1]Rae tiptoed away from the dorms, quietly pulling the door closed. Her appointment was tonight, and if Rae was late, Linette would kill her. She slipped along the corridors, arms folded in a classic 'closed' gesture. Nobody who read body language would be stupid enough to approach her. She reached a door marked "Linette Walters", and opened it quietly. "Sorry I'm late," Rae said softly, coming to sit down in one of the armchairs. "That's fine," Linette said, writing in her notepad. "I had some things to do, anyway." She folded her hands and looked directly at Rae, blue eyes piercing her. "So what's been happening in your life lately?" "Well," Rae shifted in the chair, so she had her legs curled up underneath her. "We started a new mission. Nothing terribly heavy, yet. And Matt told me he's bringing home a friend of his -- he met him while Matt was at Uni." "Who's in the mission team?" Linette asked, her eyebrow delicately raised. Everything about Linette was delicate. Today, she was wearing a blue-grey tailored suit. Her jacket was over the back of the chair, and her legs were crossed demurely over each other. Her white shirt was pristine, even at this hour. And her hair was as neat as it had been when it was first done. "Um, a guy called Bradley. He's our decoy sort of guy. He's actually very useful. His file is full of interesting talents of his, but if we need to use him as bait again, we'll need someone else to come in and cover for him. I think Matt might be getting someone. Then there's Zharra, Jaudiar's cousin. And, um, a girl called Bailey. She's knew, but she's strong. She'll survive. And there are these two Russians. I don't know much about them. I don't even know which side they're on." Rae scratched her ear. Linette's eyes had sharpened. "Liam's on the team, too, isn't he?" Rae grinned sheepishly. "How'd you know." "You're not the only one who can read body language." Came the dry reply. "Tell me about Liam so far." Rae sighed and looked down. Linette knew as well as she did that almost all of her problems had stemmed and snowballed since she'd met Liam. It was only natural that Linette zoomed in on him. Still, she wished she hadn't. "He's...Liam. He's acting just like ever. He doesn't care about anything, at all. All that matters is the mission." Rae's eyes teared up. "If one of the team was down...well...I can't be sure he'd let us go back for them. "Which scares me, you know?" Rae looked down at her hands. "Why does it scare you?" "Well, I was the one left behind, last time." "Three years ago." Rae nodded. "I mean, not towards the end, where we finished and actually accomplished our goal. But in the Pizaro part -- well, yeah." Rae was silent for a minute, staring at the pattern of the armchair. "Liam and I know practically everything about each other, but we never speak about it. We know, but we didn't tell each other. It's almost disconcerting. And Liam's so insecure about, well, everything." "You say Liam feels insecure?" Questioned the psychologist while scribbling on the ever present book. "Yes. He's been in the SYF for the longest, he was the first, along with his sister...but now he's ending his stint in the force, he's starting to feel useless I think...old hat, I suppose." "And, I mean...'Liam's very much the first in command, always has been. Last time...Jaudiar and I...we were second in command. In the end, it was jsut me, jaudiar, Liam and Siren -- we were alone and every word we spoke echoed everywhere. The gunshots richoched off of everything. The noise could blast your ear drums. And then Siren got hit, and we could do anything, we couldn't save her.' Rae looked down at her hands. 'I was lost, I was panicking -- I knew we weren't going to get through it. Liam took over and was so calm, so collected. "He's the heart and soul of SYF. If he died, the entire thing would collapse." "But the thing is...I don't know how he's going to deal with it once he [i]isn't[/i] everything to the company he works for. He's self-centered." Linette looked at the clock, then at her notepad. "Rae, we've gone over time tonight, but I think this needs further treatement. The SYF is bad for you, but you can handle that. It's Liam that's your poison." Rae stared at the psychologist. She'd gotten that from what she'd said? But then, Linette had always been astute. "So I want you to be careful around him, Rae. He's bad for health, emotionally. He's cuting you off from other people." Linette stood up and showed Rae to the door. "Sleep well, Raellyra." Rae nodded and walked out, once again feeling completely drained.[/size]

[size=1]Rae leaned back, running her hand through her mussed up ponytail. A sigh escaped her lips, and she smiled wryly at Katarina and Malania. ''Sorry for the comments before -- I've been a little uptight lately. And it doesn't help when I have two Russians who don't want to be here.'' Rae didn't let them say anything before she went on. "Oh, I know you'll do your work perfectly well, but the most I've learnt is that if your heart isn't in it, it isn't 100%. And we just can't afford to have people who aren't in this fully. But," she went on, rambling slightly to herself, "it isn't exactly anyone's choice, so I'll just have to end up ranting under my breath like I am now," she looked up at them both, taking a deep breath. "And we'll all be happy. "Or something." She finished her rant just as her earpiece rang. Rae answered the call, listening to Liam and Matt. [i]We've spoken to the Commander, he's talking to Karen's parents, I don't think they're reacting well...[/i] Rae could hear someone shouting in the background. [i]Dammit! No! Don't move there! What's wrong with these keys? Why the hell won't the sword work? Ooooo....they're round the wrong way.[/i] She rolled her eyes as Matt yelled at Liam to shut up. [i]Who do you have with you?[/i] he asked a few seconds later. "Erm...Katarina and Malania. They're listening too, I think. If they've got their headpieces in, at least. Bailey should be with you. Who else? Ah, Zharra...I think she disappeared." Rae frowned, then shrugged. "She'll turn up. She's Jaudiar's cousin. Jaudiar did the same thing." As she rang off, Rae couldn't help but be worried, though. Katarina -- who Rae thought could be the more forgiving of the pair -- put her hand on Rae's shoulder and smiled at her. "She vill turn up. You cannot keep somevone like her down longk." It didn't sound too complimentary, but it did reassure Rae, nonetheless. Zharra had been trained by the best -- she'd always make it back to them. She'd always finish the mission. Speaking of missions, Rae had her 'training session' later tonight. What a lot of fun [i]that[/i] would be. [b]OOC:[/b] Heh. Sorry. I'm so wiped from Slave Labour, and my throat is so sore that I can barely think. So it's pretty short. I'm sure you'll all survive, though.[/size]

[size=1]1. [b]What did you think of the book?[/b] Personally, I thought it was brilliantly done. A lot of people disliked the way Harry acted, but really, he's [i]fifteen[/i]. Fifteen year olds are moody and nasty and not in control of their emotions. I should know -- I am fifteen! And as for Umbridge, I thought she was marvellous! In most books, there's the [i]big[/i] evil, and the [i]little[/i] evil. In these books, the big evil has always been Voldemort. In the first, second, and fourth books, the little evil was Draco Malfoy. In the third, it was Sirius Black, although you later found out he wasn't evil. In the fifth, Draco Malfoy doesn't cut it anymore -- we need a new little evil. And Umbridge fills that spot perfectly. My other favorite was Professor McGonagall -- she was absolutely stunning in this book. I loved her tart replies and connected with her character. I have a teacher at my school who is [i]just[/i] like her, and so I was really impressed and pleased with McGonagall is a character. The character development is also fantastic. You learn so much more about Harry, he becomes just that little more realistic -- don't tell me that you've never had a mood swing or become irrationally angry? I know people don't like it, but I think it's because it is so realistic. We all have teachers we like, teachers who don't like us, teachers who support us, friends we feel jealous of. We all feel left out at time, and to me this book is so...natural. 2. [b]What is your favorite book out of the series?[/b] My favorite book would have to be [i]Harry Potter And The Chamber of Secrets.[/i] I thought it was wonderful. It wasn't the first book, so the reader didn't have to waste time with all the explanations about the Wizarding World, but it was still new enough to be just...magic. 3. [b]Do the movies give the books justice?[/b] Not in my opinion. However, one can't really compare Harry Potter to Lord of the Rings, in this respect because to me, they're different. Harry Potter wasn't good in a movie sense because the story was so convoluted, and it skipped out the funny parts to make room for the important parts, which to me, ruined it a bit. Lord of the Rings [i]could[/i] cut out a lot -- there's so much description that Peter Jackson knew exactly how to create the look of Middle Earth. The books were so filled with description that the main events were there. At least, that's the description I've gotten from friends. I started to read the Hobbit before it came out and got to page 88, all of which was described in one of the first scenes in the movies. I'm am not, however, knocking Lord of the Rings, the books. I have no opinion on it either way. I have not read it, and I cannot judge. I just dislike the two being compared.[/size]

[size=1]Hrm. I see in your profile that you're thirteen years old, so you've hit this stage almost exactly on time. Almost every writer goes through this 'angsty' period -- all their writing is dark and depressed and full of doom and gloom. And that isn't necessarily a [i]bad[/i] thing. Some truely [i]brilliant[/i] poetry has been written in these stages, and some of my favorite poetry I wrote was when I was in my teen angst stage. It's also good for you, because you can learn and grow in this period. Most writers I know went through this, and their poetry and stories are fabulous. And once you get past the angst, you start to write happier stories, or get a mix of the two -- believe me, you'll be better for this. Anyway, onto the poem. Short and sweet, perhaps, although it could have been longer -- to draw the reader into the emotion. There's a powerful statement in there, but it needs to pull the reader in so that they can feel the emotion too. All in all, it's a neat little poem, but it's so short that the reader doesn't have time to connect with it before the poem ends. [i]However[/i], I'm very glad you wrote this and posted it on here, for several reasons. The [i]first[/i] is that you're exploring as a writer -- teen angst is often the most personal (and even, in my case, the least true!) of writing. The second reason is that you've come to this community, and the first place you've posted in is Poetry and Fanfiction -- you've no idea how happy that makes me. Anyway, when you wrote this, you were most probably angry, or depressed so...cheer up. The teens only last another six years! And teenage angst, well, only about a year. Gah, I've rambled enough. You may not have gotten this out of what I've said (I say odd things and confuse even myself), but I did like your poem. Congradulations. You've done well. ^_^[/size]

[size=1]Heh, don't worry about it. I remember when I first came to OB; every time I posted, I always saw the black dot on the envelope afterwards, panicked and deleted my post, because I thought it meant I'd started to 'unravel' the thread! :p[/size]

[size=1]When the two boys reached the break room, Rae was sitting on the bench and swinging her legs, twirling her hair and looking at her crossword puzzle. "What's a word that means 'Thin Nail.' Four letters. Starts with a B." She demanded without looking up. "Oh, never mind...'BRAD'." Liam walked over to her, and Rae ignored him. He stood for a second, then lifted up her legs to gain access to the cupboard below her. Rae stayed where she was, waiting. When he bent down, she ploncked her feet back where they had been, and grinned at his outraged cry. "Speaking of which, how are you?" She asked Brad. "Those bloody injections hurt something chronic. I'm so glad I don't have to get one." "Well, actually Rae..." Liam started, standing up. Rae ignored him. "[i]Like[/i] I was saying, I'm so glad I don't have to get one, and anyone who tells me that I do will be a lot of trouble, even for my temper." "Besides which, I have a tracker implanted in my earrings. As long as I don't take them off, someone will know where I am." Rae held out a soda to Brad, who took it and then sat himself next to her on the bench. "Thirteen down. Seven letters. 'Skin at the edge of the nail.' Cuticle." Rae examined her own hands. "Gah. What have I been doing with myself?" She sighed and picked at her nails, pouting slightly. "Hey Liam," Bradley asked, checking his watch. "When do we need to get going." Liam grinned sheepishly. "About 5 minutes ago. I wanted another Soda, though." He balanced the can on his head. Rae sighed and shoved him, causing the soda can to clatter to the ground. "You could have told me. I'm not nearly ready enough! I haven't yet packed my bags!" And she turned and pretended to cry on Bradley's shoulder.[/size]

[size=1]My teacher has since informed me that she doesn't mind about length, as long as it's over 600 words. So I've taken some of your suggestions -- thank you so much for your help! -- and left some others. Comments on my rough draft: [list] [*] Scots don't wear pink frills, and you wouldn't climb a tree in frills, either. [*] James needs to be described. [*] The branch needs to be described. [*] The scene in the tree needs to be more believable. [*] What are the ages of Emily and James? [*] Why are they up a tree to [i]begin[/i] with? [/list] Now, in my opinion, Terra's comments were much more helpful, but I've taken into account Mnemolth's suggestions, Terra's suggestions, and my teacher suggestions, and this is my second draft: [center][b][u]Past Tense[/u][/b][/center] Emily trudged down the narrow lane, her whole body projecting an air of forlorn determination. The muddy path weaved after her like a snail?s trail. The green hedges on either side brushed her bare arms as she passed them, almost as if they were real people. Spring had just begun; the Hawthorne buds were already blooming. It had rained the night before; the path was muddy and the hedges still held droplets of water in their green depths. The blue, black, and green tartan of Emily?s plaid was smudged with dirt, and the hem had long since started to unravel itself on the hedges. She was about a mile from home. It wasn?t much longer until she reached her destination. When she arrived at the clearing, however, she had to be certain of her footing. While the feud had ended in the Lowlands hundreds of years ago, up here in the Highlands, the feud was still rampant. Her mother had confronted her, face red with rage. ?You, Emily Síne Campbell, are not to consort with a McDonald. A McDonald boy, no less! Do you know what they did to our ancestors, Emily? Have you no family pride?? Emily had stared at the ground. She didn?t understand the old feuds; But the part about family pride did needle at her conscience. She was proud of her roots ? who wouldn?t be? Nonetheless, she was friends with James McDonald. She wouldn?t, however, be friends with him for much longer. If her mother found out she was still friends with him, she?d take away Emily?s books. James was just like Emily ? he?d understand. He knew how precious Emily?s books were to her. But he also knew the folly of the family feuds. He was sombre and wise, something she assumed he?d picked up from his boarding school. His clothes were old-fashioned, something that delighted her every time she saw him. He wore trousers, white shirt, braces, and a jacket everyday, no matter what the climate. He spoke of current events, of school competitions, and far away places, like Edinburgh and Glasgow. Emily was rapt. At just 11, she had found her soul mate. So Emily walked the path that separated the McDonald and Campbell properties. Callum McDonald ? a widower ? lived on one side of the hedges, while Enid and Kieran Campbell lived on the other. A month ago, Emily had never heard of James McDonald, but apparently he?d just come home from boarding school in Edinburgh. When Emily had pointed out to her mother that he couldn?t be that bad, really, if he was civil enough to go to Edinburgh, Enid had sniffed that a proper Highlander would never send their children to the lowlands to be educated, and if Callum McDonald was really as posh as that, then she was glad she?d never associated with the likes of him. Emily had given up at that point, and agreed to tell the boy that she?d not see him again. The clearing was just up ahead. She could feel its tranquillity washing over her, like a breeze rolling through the trees. Just being in the clearing could make everything in the world seem perfect. It wasn?t as if the clearing was particularly pretty; except for the occasional wild flowers, there were only high, twisted mulberry trees ? someone?s futile attempt to civilise the region. There was no bench, just the limb of one of the trees that stood like a fortress to the children throughout the decades. It protected them from the outside world, from the forces that would tear them apart. The ?Meeting Branch? was almost 8 metres off the ground. To get there, one had to climb the trunk, and edge themselves up the limb of the tree until it was flat, where one could sit on it. Emily had just scrambled up the branch and adjusted her plaid when she heard James? voice behind her. ?You?re early today.? ?I can?t stay long, which is why I?m early.? She looked around, astonished as always to see him in the middle of the clearing. He was always appearing out of nowhere to surprise her. It was as if he knew beforehand where she?d be looking. When she peered at him again, his eyes had taken on the lonely cast they?d had when she?d first met him. She smiled; hoping to delay the inevitable. His eyes brightened to their normal jovial smile, and Emily relaxed. ?Why don?t you climb the tree and see if you can beat me this time? I barely took two seconds.? James scoffed. ?It was more than twenty seconds. You?re always so slow. I can climb much faster,? he boasted, and proceeded to demonstrate his talent. Familiarity had increased his speed, and he shot up the branches. Emily shuffled her body to make room for him. They sat silent for a while; Emily swinging her legs, James fiddling with a leaf and staring at her. She became uncomfortable, fingers tracing the tartan lines of her kilt. ?You want to tell me something. What is it?? This was it. Emily bit her lip, looking everywhere but at him. ?Look, James?you?re a McDonald. And, well, I?m a Campbell. In Edinburgh, where you go to school, things might be different, but here,? She glanced up, desperately hoping that he?d understand. ?Well?here, the feud is still going on. The Highlanders, they ? we ? remember things longer. And well?I can?t be friends with you any?? she didn?t finish her sentence. James? eyes hardened, anger etching itself into his features. It wasn?t the anger of one child towards another, but something decades old. Something that had years to bubble and boil to the surface, like a slow-burning furnace. His eyes hated her, contempt and scorn evident in his entire being. ?I thought you were different. I thought you didn?t care about century old feuds.? He advanced, and Emily shuffled backwards. He kept coming toward her, as graceful on the branch as a tight walker who?d had centuries to perfect his art. His arms shot out, and he shook her. Emily screamed and knocked him away. He flailed for a second, eyes showing shock and helplessness. His body hit the ground with a sickening crunch. His neck was bent at an odd angle. Emily stood there for a second, panicking, then scrambled down the tree and took off at a run. The hedges rushed past; streaks of white on green. She couldn?t breathe. Her lungs were screaming in pain. Her kilt was whipping her legs, so she lifted it and kept running. The hole in the fence was just up here, so close, but if she passed it then she?d have to go back and find it, and all the hedges look alike, and why wasn?t there a gate? But she knew the answer to that; to keep the Campbells out. Emily gave up, instead scrambling up the Hawthorne hedges. Her hem shredded itself on the green claws. She was almost at the house; if she could just make it, she could save James, but, oh God, what if Callum McDonald shot her on sight? ?Mister McDonald!? Emily called, her Scottish brogue ? already barely understandable to outsiders ? thickening itself with her panic. ?Mister McDonald!? McDonald walked out, a shotgun live in his hands. ?What is it you want, Emily Campbell? Come to spit on my lawns, like the rest of your cousins?? Emily nearly sobbed; she so overcome with panic and short breath she could barely think. ?There?s been an accident. Your son. He?s?? ?My son? You, girl, are just like your shifty ancestors. But you should at least get your facts straight. I have not, nor will ever have, a son.? ?But Sir, James, your son. He came home from boarding school at Edinburgh?? His face ? so like an older version of James ? twisted into contempt. ?Well, you certainly have done your homework. Listen to me, Emily Campbell, and listen well. If you or any of your relatives ever mention James, and his death ? at Campbell hands?? Emily cringed, ?I will personally see to it that your family never forgets that your Grand mammy killed my brother!? ?I don?t care about your brother!? Emily cried. ?But James just fell out of the tree!? ?Listen to me well, Emily Campbell. I don't know what games you're playing at, but you and your family know full well that I do not, that I cannot have a son! Not that that is any of your business! Heed my words, girl. When I was twelve, my brother fell out of a tree ? because of a Campbell. You and your kin know full well that since that day I can no longer have any children! What is this? Are you here to rub further salt into the wound? Are you and your family not satisfied with what you have done?" The old man shook her violently, filled with anger and hatred. "What is it girl? What's your game? Tell me!!" His eyes bored through her soul but Emily remained strong. She ripped her arm free, then started pulling him by the wrist. ?Look, I can show you. James fell underneath the Mulberry trees. He?? Callum had gone pale. ?You were playing in the Mulberry trees? Don?t ever go near that place again.? ?Why?? ?It?s haunted. By my brother?s ghost.? Emily understood suddenly. Why James wore old clothes, why he appeared out of nowhere, how he climbed the tree so well, like he?d had years to practice. ?By James.? ?Yes,? he whispered, still pale. His eyes were glistening with tears. ?By James.? [center]_________________[/center] I'm still not happy with my explanitory paragraph: the one that starts with [i]"Listen to me well, Emily Campbell.[/i] It seems jumpy. Any help with that would be greatly appreciated.[/size]

[size=1]From what I remember, posts don't count in Suggestions And Feedback, Your Picture, or the Banners and Request forums, although, that may have changed. Either way, don't worry much about it. People don't really mind if you're a newbie or not. It's more about whether or not you post [i]well[/i], then how much you post. I know that gets said a lot here, but I have to say it's true. [/size]

[size=1]Rae walked out of the bathroom, towelling her hair down. "That Liam I just heard? If he's poking his nose in too much, tell him to shove off. Can you chuck me that shirt?" She pointed to a sleeveless black shirt lying on her bed. Bailey threw her the shirt, and Rae retreated to the bathroom to dress. When she came out -- dressed in cargo pants and her shirt, Rae sat on the floor and started stretching. First she went into a simple back twist, wincing as the vertebra clicked back inot place. She rolled her neck and cracked her fingers working out the kinks there. Rae grinned at Bailey. "That's what working with Liam will do to you." "I've got my fair share of kinks, anyway." "And you've only just met him!" Rae exclaimed, winking and then going back to her stretches. Rae grinned at her a couple of minutes later. "I'm goign to go get something to eat. Want to come? Liam tends to hang around the break room, because he's a lazy bum who doesn't like to speak to people. "Me, I go to the mess hall. You pick up interesting things there. Agents talk to each other, if not civillians. Come on, I'll introduce you to a few people." Rae grabbed Bailey's hand and pulled her along. "Besides, I need to keep my mind of things. Oh, I'm so nervous. I hope everything goes right for Matt tonight!" [b]I have to go. It's my mother's birthday and we're going out.[/b][/size]

[size=1]Rae's eyes flicked open, her usual morning stretch abandoned in favour of glaring at the bathroom door. Shower was taken, which meant she'd have to fill in time. She hated filling in time. It was a bad trait; her impatience. Had almost gotten her killed a couple of times. Perhaps she'd take a walk around the grounds. She hadn't yet familiarised herself with the hostel part of the base. Rae rubbed her eyes, then pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Perhaps she'd struck gold, and Zharra was as good a hairdresser as Jaudiar -- it would certainly be convieniant. She hadn't unpacked the night before, so Rae pulled out her non-crushable top and all-purpose cargo pants. She checked her things, then strapped her watch to her wrist, and slid a bracelet onto the other arm. She'd go check on the others; she was used to babysitting, after all. Liam was walking towards her, using a...survival knife?...to shave. Rae stopped just as they were about to pass. "Liam...I'm almost afraid to ask, but why are you using that?" Liam shrugged. "Because I couldn't find my razor." Rae nodded and went to walk past, then stopped and glared at him suspiciously. "Liam...is that [i]my[/i] knife?" He put on an innocent expression. "I only took it to shave." Rae huffed and snatched the knife back, then stormed off, colliding with Bradley on the way. She smiled at him. "Hi. It's nice to meet you, informally. I'm Rae." She stuck out her hand, completely forgetting about the knife her fist was closed around. "I was actually on my way to check on Zharra and the two Russians, if you'd like to accompany me. Liam's being...well...Liam, and my roomie's having a shower, so I'm pretty much alone." She looked down at her hand. "Oh. Sorry." She blushed and slipped her knife away. "Let's go check on the Russians, hey?"[/size]

[size=1]Well, I was sitting here, wondering which writing style you prefer; First person, Second Person, or Third Person. For those of you who are confused, first person is from the eyes of the narrator. [i]"I watched as he picked up the vase and hurled it at his mother."[/i]. To me, while it's my most used, I find that it's rather limited; the reader only knows what the character sees. Second person is from 'your' viewpoint, and is usually written in present tense. [i]"You watch as he picks up the vase and hurls it at his mother."[/i] I find this to be almost sloppy, and I haven't yet used it to write any of my pieces, although I'd love to read a well-written piece! Third person can be third person limited, or third person omniscient. Basically, in third person limited, the story follows a main person, but occasionally shows other's feelings. Third person omniscient doesn't follow anyone specific. [i]"Janie watched as Matt picked up the vase and hurled it at his mother."[/i] Of the three, I think I prefer first person, because I can explore the character better. So what is your favorite person, and why? What are your thoughts on the other options in the Point of View decisions?[/size]

[size=1][b][center]ASSIGNMENT[/b][/center] Okay, here were the terms of my assignment; write a short story of 600-1,200 words. There were other criteria, but just general ones. There were no sentences to respond to, and there was no given situation. Basically, we were given free reign. However, my story is 1,457 words. I need to cut it down. Any help would be appreciated. [center]_____________________________________[/center] [u][b]Past Tense[/b][/u] Emily trudged down the narrow lane, her whole body projecting an air of forlorn determination. The ground rolled beneath her gaze, the muddy path weaving after her like a snail?s trail. The green hedges on either side brushed her bare arms as she passed them, almost as if they were real people. It was the very beginning of spring; the Hawthorne buds were already blooming. It had rained the night before; the path was muddy and the hedges still held droplets of water in their green depths. Emily?s pretty pink dress was already crumpled and untidy; the ruffles had long since ripped and shredded themselves on the hedges. She was about a mile from home, and it wasn?t much longer until she reached her destination. When she arrived at the clearing, however, she had to be certain of her footing. While the feud had ended in the Lowlands hundreds of years ago, up here in the Highlands, the feud was rampant. Her mother had confronted her, face red with rage. ?You, Emily Síne Campbell, are not to consort with a McDonald. A McDonald boy, no less! Do you know what they did to our ancestors, Emily? Have you no family pride?? Emily had stared at the ground. She didn?t understand the family feuds; it had happened ages ago, but the part about family pride did needle at her conscience. She was proud of her roots ? who wouldn?t be? She loved the Campbell?s, and their existence. Nonetheless, she was friends with James McDonald. She wouldn?t, however, be friends with him for much longer. If her mother found out she was friends with him, she?d take away Emily?s books. So Emily walked the path that separated the McDonald and Campbell properties. Callum McDonald ? a widower ? lived on one side of the hedge, while Enid and Kieran Campbell lived on the other. A month ago, Emily had never heard of James McDonald, but from what he?d told her, he?d come home from boarding school in Edinburgh. When Emily had pointed out that he couldn?t be that bad, really, if he was civil enough to go to Edinburgh, Enid had sniffed that a sane Highlander would never send their children to the lowlands to be educated, and if Callum McDonald was really as posh as that, then she was glad she?d never associated with the likes of him. Emily had given up at that point, and agreed to tell the boy that she?d not see him again. The clearing was just up ahead. She could feel the tranquillity of it beginning to wash over her, like a breeze rolling through the trees. It was sometimes spooky; the way just being in the clearing could make everything in the world just perfect. It wasn?t as if the clearing was particularly pretty; except for the occasional wild flowers, there were only high, twisted mulberry trees ? someone?s futile attempt to civilise the region. There was no bench, just the limb of one of the trees that stood like Atlas to the children throughout the decades. Emily had just scrambled up the branch when she heard James? voice behind her. ?You?re early today.? ?I can?t stay long, which is why I?m early.? She looked around, astonished as always to see him in the middle of the clearing. He was always there before her, always appearing out of nowhere to surprise her. It was almost as if he knew beforehand where she?d be looking, although she always tried to trick him. When she peered at him again, his eyes were sad and taking on the lonely cast they?d had when she?d first met him. She smiled; hoping to delay the inevitable brush off she?d have to give him. His eyes brightened to their normal jovial smile, and Emily relaxed. ?Why don?t you climb the tree and see if you can beat me this time? I barely took two seconds.? James scoffed. ?It was longer than ten seconds. You?re always so slow. I can climb much faster,? he boasted, and proceeded to demonstrate his talent. Emily shuffled her body to one side to make room for him. They sat silent for a while; Emily swinging her legs, James fiddling with a leaf and staring at her. She became uncomfortable, fingers tracing the once impeccable ruffles of her dress. ?You want to tell me something. What is it?? This was it. Emily bit her lip, looking everywhere but at the boy. ?Look, James?you?re a McDonald. And, well, I?m a Campbell. In Edinburgh, where you go to school, things might be different, but here,? She glanced up, desperately hoping that he?d understand. ?Well?here, the feud is still going on. The Highlanders, they ? we ? remember things longer. And well?I can?t be friends with you any?? she didn?t finish her sentence. James? eyes hardened, anger etching itself into his features. His anger was decades old ? not the anger of one child towards another. It was anger that had years to bubble and boil to the surface, like a slow-burning furnace. His eyes hated her, contempt and scorn evident in his entire being. ?I thought you were different. I thought you didn?t care about century old feuds.? He advanced at her, and Emily shuffled backwards, trying to avoid his penetrating stare. He kept coming toward her, as graceful on the branch as a tight walker who?d had centuries to perfect his art. His arms shot out, and he shook her. Emily screamed and knocked him away. He flailed for a second, eyes showing his shock and helplessness. His body hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Emily stood there for a second, panicking, then dropped from the branch and took off at a run. The hedges rushed past; streaks of white on green. She couldn?t breath. Her lungs were screaming in pain, the breath panting out of her. Her dress was whipping her legs, so she lifted it past her knees and kept running. The hole in the fence was just up here, so close, but if she passed it then she?d have to go back and find it, and all the hedges look alike, and why wasn?t there a gate? But she knew the answer to that; to keep the Campbells out. Emily gave up, instead scrambling up the Hawthorne hedges. Her dress caught, and she tugged on it. Another ruffle shredded itself on the green claws. She was almost at the house; if she could just make it, she could save James, but, oh God, what if Callum McDonald shot her on sight? ?Mister McDonald!? Emily called, her Scottish brogue ? already barely understandable to outsiders ? thickening itself with her panic. ?Mister McDonald!? McDonald walked out with a shotgun. ?What is it you want, Emily Campbell? Come to spit on my lawns, like the rest of your cousins?? Emily nearly sobbed; she would have if she hadn?t been so overcome with panic and short breath she could barely think. ?There?s been an accident. Your son. He?s?? ?My son? You, girl, are just like your shifty ancestors. But you should at least get your facts straight. I have not, nor will ever have, a son.? ?But Sir, James, your son. He came home from boarding school at Edinburgh?? His face ? so like an older version of James ? twisted into contempt. ?Well, you certainly have done your homework. Listen to me, Emily Campbell, and listen well. If you or any of your relatives ever mention James, and his death ? at Campbell hands, I might mention ?? Emily cringed, ?I will personally see to it that your family never forgets that your Grand mammy killed my brother!? ?I don?t care about your brother!? Emily cried. ?But James just fell out of the tree!? Callum McDonald grabbed Emily?s arm, his old, twisted fingers digging into her skin. ?Listen to me well, Emily Campbell. I don?t care what sort of delusion you?re under, but I have not, and will never have a son, due to that fact that when I was twelve, my brother fell out of a tree ? because of a Campbell ? and while I was riding to get help, another of your relatives threw a stick into my wheels, and I then fell off and hit the bar on my bike. I have been sterile since that incident, which means, you little liar, that I cannot have children!? Emily ripped her arm free, then grabbed his wrist and started pulling. ?Look, I can show you. James fell underneath the Mulberry trees. He?? Callum had gone pale. ?You were playing in the Mulberry trees? Don?t ever go near that place again.? ?Why?? ?It?s haunted. By my brother?s ghost.? ?By James.? ?Yes,? he whispered, still pale. His eyes were glistening with tears. ?By James.?[/size]

[size=1][b]OOC: Just letting you know, I won't be here Thursday. Not sure about Wednesday, but I'll try to post then.[/b] Rae huffed her exasperation and walked off, muttering about 'The denseness of males', leaving Matt laughing and Liam looking self-conscious. They'd worked together often since the mission a few years ago, but Rae still hadn't gotten past how very slow Liam could be at times. She was one of the people who could actually banter with him -- without being shot -- but over the past few years they'd barely had enough time to say 'I can shoot better than you' before they'd been sent off on a new, separate, mission. It seemed the Head Honchos only wanted Rae and Liam teamed together when something big and bad was expected in the mission, which didn't bode well for this operation. Rae made her way down to the dorms, looking into the other rooms before hers. She'd chosen beforehand, knowing that the best rooms would be taken quickly, and wanting to get her own without fuss. She was surprised to see Bailey sleeping quite comfortably in the room. Bailey hadn't unpacked yet, but Rae wasn't going to allow herself to be lazy; chances were there'd be no time to once they got started. She unzipped her duffel. "What do you want, Liam?" Rae asked without turning around. He made a sound of approval. "I can never figure out how you know when someone's there." "Call it paranoia." Rae turned and sat on her bed, not bothering to unpack yet. "Looks like you've got a roomie. I checked out the other rooms before now; two Russians and Zharra seem to be sharing a room, and I'm in here with Bailey. It leaves you with Bradley, although, if you're really uptight, I'm sure there's enough room for you to be on your own." She grinned and gestured towards her sleeping comrade. "Think I should wake her up?" "Probably. You can be quite a shock." Liam leant against a wall. "Two Russians?" "Yeah. I spoke to one of the security as I was coming down. There was a breach, but it seems like Katarina has a friend who's decided to join us. Probably against KGB wishes, but since they sent their agent here, they report to us...I think that's the way it works. Or rather, that's the thinking around here." Rae went over and poked Bailey softly, having one of her lightening quick changes of topic. She drew back automatically after touching Bailey, ready to be shot at. "On second thought," Rae grinned. She slowly inched her hand under Bailey's pillow, looking for the gun that any good agent would have. Bingo. "Silver Beretta, 9mm." She listed off to Liam, absentmindedly touching her own pistol; a 9mm silenced Glock. "What's the best way to wake someone up?" "Dump water over their head, I believe." Rae glared. "Just because you think it's funny to watch someone splutter." "It's true. I do. What about that whole pressure point thing? Squeeze her big toe. Apparently, it wakes you up. If she kicks you, though, it isn't my fault." "It's never your fault," she muttered darkly, taking his advice anyway. Bailey woke up quickly and suddenly, arm automatically reaching for her gun. Rae grinned. It seemed that Bailey had seen more than she let on. "Liam," Rae ordered, "Close your eyes." Liam, not used to taking orders in any form, immediately ignored her, except to ask, "Why?" "Because. It isn't nice to watch a lady wake up." He laughed and didn't bother moving. Bailey took in the scene, and Rae smiled as her eyes became less wary. "I decided I should inform you that you're going to be my room mate -- just incase you woke up to my snoring." Liam snorted. Rae gave Bailey back her gun, once again absentmindedly touching her own. It was a habit she hadn't yet kicked -- she needed to have the security there; even after three years, she wasn't over her helpless feelings in Pizaro's mansion. "Anyway. Welcome to...Singapore. Liam's not as scary as he likes to think, and he isn't the best shot either." "I'm better than you, Rae. I always have been." "Only just. And I was trained in information, Liam." Her voice was terse, eyes revealing how much she resented Liam's gloating. He knew how much to push her though, and refrained from commenting on his background in Computer Espionage, simply muttering, "Bloody know-it-all." Rae frowned towards him. "I'll give you 'bloody know-it-all.'"[/size]