Echo

its that time again, lets clear out this mofo inbox

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 17:44:12 GMT

so thats where people learn how to guilt trip....

¬.¬ thank you stephen...

hatred of gay people makes me giggle

art ligaht designed to look like a rift in space time...every dark forrest needs one...i know i want one...

fifty years of nastalgia in one image.

another one...

now see, this is how capital punishment should be handled...the condemned is fitted with some form of harness, and from a lottery a name at random is picked and a box with a big red button is sent to their house, they have one 1000000 dollars, all they have to do is...put someone to death, not someone specifically, it may not even be someone from their own state, might even be some one innocent...and the condemned gets to live as long as guilt outweighs need...

plays with new toy

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 12:31:24 GMT

Very first impression, the touch actually works alot better then i thought it would...ill bet on two things, assuming that the next incarnation of the DS series doesnt involve an anal probe (this is nintendo we are talking about, you know, the "we have to totally reinvent the wheel for every new system) anyway..

i am predicting the next one will have a better graphics engine, though this one doesnt seem bad, a wireless g/n standard...both screens will be touch active, and you will probably have a force feed back (thing vibrates when you prod it) just for shits and giggles...

anyway, what was this? oh right... My very first impression is as follows, the fact that you cannot play mp3 files, or really, most audio formats, right out of box, is a MISTAKE... on nintendos part...i will probably have more fussing after a fashion, but for now, thats my main gripe

Birdy

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 11:34:26 GMT

iz you haz the new ds kh game yet?

looks at a watch..

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 11:33:30 GMT

*tucks it away into a pocket, and stretches...looks around...finds a likely looking brick wall, paints a target, and stands far back...* hmmmm *holds a thumb up and sights down along it* okaaay.....hmmmm, right then...well... *bends over double, and charges head first.....thunk*

huh, wonder how i missed this...

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 14:08:11 GMT

A discworld movie (colour of magic, might as well start at the beginning, though i think they mixed colour of magic with the light fantastic) staring Tim Curry as one of the villains...yeah, gonna need to see this...

Astroboy where the wild things are...spoilers

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 11:46:35 GMT

so, i went into macon the other day, stopped by the mall, and the theatre...went to see astroboy, and where the wild things are...also sorry i didnt cut the last chapter...id do it now but i think its a bit late

Astroboy...good movie actually, better then it had right to be...could have been better if they didnt go out of their way to neuter the drama... and the villain wasnt going out of his way to be an idiot...and people like that just dont get elected...basically a boy is killed, as it, utterly decentigratred, and his father uses some leftover cells (hair >.<) to extract his memories and implant them in a robot made just like him...then wants him shut down because he apparently is different then his original son, though you wouldnt know this cause you never get to really learn much about about the original son's personality, and just get the idea the father enver really knew his son at all...boy runs away, and the president, who ultimately is at fault of the original boy's death, finds out he has a core of incredible power and wants it, and yada yada yada...

where the wild things are...good enough movie, about what i expectes..not a movie kids would like, or get... based around homunculi, creatures of raw human emotion. and the way people interact with each other...put me in a bottomless pit of a depression that im still clawing my way out of, but it was a good movie...anyway...thats all i guess...later.

Echo/ouT

my argument as to Sora's age.

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 12:05:05 GMT

okay, the general consensus in kingdom hearts circles is that sora is about 14 years old, and flashback sora is likely about 7 or 8...i can see this...but...

i maintain my argument that Sora is in his preteens, probably somewhere between 10 and 12...

my evidence for this is comparing him to other characters in the game. Yes a child goes through alot of growth in a short period of time durring their teenage years, but if you compare sora to Aladdin, or Tarzan, Aladdin being likely about 16, tarzan perhaps 17, or, the general height of any character in the game, you will see what i mean. Case and point, the quintessential confirmed 10 year old, peter pan, the boy who will NEVER grow up, is, if anything, BIGGER then sora, i know that generally speaking you guys dont agree with me on Soras age, but to me it just doesnt make sense that hes anything over, say, 12...

by the by, does the dsi pack an mp3 player?

digs around in the box of stereotypical villains

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 02:45:35 GMT

Yessss...you will do...the mad doctor...and i shall name thee Midboss...well, actually his name is Doctor Idu Yeda Hatu...which in my mind translates to "he who sins without regret or hesitation in pursuit of knowledge"

got it written up, going to sleep on it and give it a reread in the morning to see how i like this chapter, then will post, be prepaaaaaaaared (yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared)

sighs irritably and drums his claws

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 00:41:50 GMT

okay, im ticked. WORK brain, WORK! i cant progress my story line any untill i figure out the direction i want this to go...........hmmmmmmmm

i really need to play once more through all four of the current games (well, the ds one i just need to play period) i need to confirm what was actual physics of the universe and what is just that i walked away from it with

Ebay

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 23:24:05 GMT

Just listened to someone fuss about getting pwned by a fraud on ebay and having to get through to paypal about it

someone explain to me why this cant work.

You buy, the money is debited from your account, and placed in a holding account, paypal makes a special ebay deal with fedex ups, person comes in with a paypal issued number, when the ups fedex guy puts it in he gets confirmation of what the item is supposed to be and the status it is suppose to ship in (such as, a laptop, you have to plug it in and boot it to show it actually works if it is stipulated to do so) and then, upon completion of processing the money transfer is moved from limbo, and into the sender's account

well?

Holy invasion of privacy Batman! We're inna Yotta trouble this time!

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 16:24:12 GMT

So, the NSA wants to keep track of all E commerce apparently, all emails, phone calls, txtmsges, chats, E reader book downloads...basically everything that goes through the tubes...nothing new about that, they've been after that for a while...

I...object to this on principle alone. Screw you big brother, I'm not doing anything thats any of your business, and while i have no idea exactly who it is you're looking out for, it sure as Hel aint me.

That said...a Yotta...a YOTTA?! WTF? Are you kidding me?! Why not just say "We're storing all your info, period"? A Yotta...im not sure there even are a Yota gigs OF data that could be stored...in the entire world! I was just thinking of the Hubble ultra deep field image a few minutes ago, and that puts me in a good frame of mind to describe what you are talking about...a Yotta gigs....if you had a warehouse, and filled every single inch of it, floor to ceiling, with terrabyte hard drives... maaaaaaaybe, yould get somewhere near to a yotta gigs...

I mean to say, you cant even say they are doing it to defend us against terrorist attack, or protect kids from predators, that much data cant even be monitored...it would take more electricity then salt lake city to run, and aside from adding to peoples general paranoia about the government, and wasting even more money, would acomplish nothing >.<! why? why? this 10 to the 24th bytes....hard...

Keyblade

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 12:36:02 GMT

Meet Stardancer. So Pablo Picasso im note, Sue me.I was working with dime store mechanical pencils and notebook paper, what do you expect?

What do you think? Too flashy?...I figured, black portions are, well, black, to the tune of obsidian, white portions are...kinda that glowy color you get when you put white things under black light...which is the color that comes to mind for me when ever i hear the word "octarine", the four holes around the star are empty space, the floaty bobbles, are like spherical windows into space, and the keychain cord is like blue lightstick cording, pulsating, and capped with a golden crescent moon.. Lighting effects for swing are similar to waving a glow stick with sparkles to the tune of crossing that blueblack of blacklights with those fiberoptic pompom lights, strike effects are blacklight planetoids, blue moons, and starfield stars . Sound effect..im thinking crystal chimes...

best i could think of...

Jack says hi.

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 10:30:35 GMT

oh what the fuck..

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 10:05:46 GMT

they moved the time back an hour on Samhain night of all fragging times? A: why does nobody tell me this, and B are they actually TRYING to fuck with people? this is like a halloween prank gone bad! like the us GOVT snuck into peoples houses throughout the country and set their clocks wrong while they were all passed out drunk...

to every law there is an exception

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 18:05:26 GMT

and that would be one. Episcopal Bishop John Shelby can be found quoted as saying:

"...The world has moved on, these elements of the Christian Church that cannot adjust to new knowledge or a new consciousness are lost in a sea of their own irrelevance.

They no longer talk to anyone but themselves. I will no longer seek to slow down the witness to inclusiveness by pretending that there is some middle ground between prejudice and oppression. There isn't.

Justice postponed is justice denied. That can be a resting place no longer for anyone.

I will particularly ignore those members of my own Episcopal Church who seek to break away from this body to form a "new church," claiming that this new and bigoted instrument alone now represents the Anglican Communion.

Such a new ecclesiastical body is designed to allow these pathetic human beings, who are so deeply locked into a world that no longer exists, to form a community in which they can continue to hate gay people, distort gay people with their hopeless rhetoric and to be part of a religious fellowship in which they can continue to feel justified in their homophobic prejudices for the rest of their tortured lives.

Church unity can never be a virtue that is preserved by allowing injustice, oppression and psychological tyranny to go unchallenged."

huh...well, just goes to show, i guess...

sigh damnit...

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 16:30:40 GMT

i cannot for the life of me think of what happens next...everything i write just sounds wrong...i need antagonists besides the heartless and i just am not managing to come by anything...a bit of an idea here, bit of an idea there, but nothing solid...and its driving me round the bin....

well, specifically, i can think of what happens next, but really the next chapter needs to be dedicated to something...elsewhere...

Explenation please...

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 02:00:16 GMT

*Circles a claw thoughtlessly on his desktop, not a shrill scratchy sound, more like a point of glass being drawn over a mostly smooth surface..looking off into the distance* huh, ya knoooow....i suppose it shouldnt surprise me, i mean, a few years ago you just absolutely could not buy something if it wasnt encrusted with..oh, oriental calligraphy...tribal designs...dragons...or oriental calligraphied tribal dragons...

*kicks back , upending his chair on two legs and propping his feet up on his desktop, he adjusts the overlarge headphones about his neck then crosses his arms behind his head carelessly, twitching one ear and glancing back as if to look at it* but, seriously, where have all the crosses and skulls and...other such crud come from? i mean, i know the goth thing has been officially mainstreamed...which kinda defeats the purpose if you ask me...but thats the thing of it..its not goth...im not sure what it is.

And for that matter...why is it always on polo shirts? polo shirts aren't cool, and they shouldn't try to be, polo shirts are for dicks, and people who lack the fashion sense to realize that they are clothing's equivalent of a mullet..only less attractive...i mean..i guess what I'm trying to say is its all just stu..@.@ *flails wildly - CRASH!* owwwwwww...

Things...

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:43:54 GMT

That make you go "need"

that make you go "ooooh"

that make you go "WANT!"

that make you go "ugh"

</div>
that make you go "...what the?"

and that make you go ".....AHHHH!" cringe, and run away with your tail tucked between your legs...for protection...

this thing was less then cleverly named something that punned "succubus"...im sure you can imagine its intended use.

by the way, is it just me? or does anyone else thing that male sex toys are...well...sorta sad...and and a little pathetic...

oh, also, note about the fanfic thing..

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:15:40 GMT

i did some cosmetic surgery on it and re-uploaded, hopefully it will be slightly more to your liking Sprinkles...

Birth by sleep...

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 22:37:05 GMT

Excuse me, but if you need me, ill be over here

creaming my pants...

Chapter 4: In which Echo spends the entire chapter in the midst of an uncomfortable draft

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 20:56:57 GMT

which the author is too much a bastard to allow to go unmentioned. also, i seriously need to decide on a few antagonists, if im going multi genre...i need Hades, i like him, and, along that theme, i might involve Eris, from Sinbad... but im also going to have to figure out a midboss...and a final boss...in the mean time...i also need to run this all through a word processor...until then...

It is, contrary to the musings of the typical bard, not true that most dreams have deeper meanings. In fact most dreams have no meaning what so ever. Many a highly trained, paid, and educated person has dedicated a great amount of his or her training, pay, and education into unraveling the fact that, with very little exception, the process of dreaming is simply the brain doing what could be likened to defragmenting the hard drive of a computer while in standby mode. For example, you would assume Echo, passed out in exhaustion after his first dance with darkness, would be having labored dreams involving reliving his recent combat, his family being devoured by formless monsters, or some prognostication of things to come. As it happens, he is dreaming about something that happened to him nearly 19 years ago at summer camp, which seems to have happened a few weeks after his employer told him that he was being "let go", which Echo thought convenient because it meant he would be free for summer vacation...which for some reason was taking place in the dead of winter this year.

Echo licked his lips, such as they were, slowly, he was ever so vaguely aware of the fact that the world was rocking and swaying slowly around him, on occasion there was a distant howling of a throaty whistle, or a click click, click click, there were even times that he heard foot steps, or voices, but he never quite woke from his sleep. Finally, after several minutes of sitting motionless, his eyes loathe to open and accept consciousness, he yawned audibly "HHaaaru" and stretched "MMMMMmmm" oh that feels good..a simple pleasure, one he had not noticed as much for quite some time. Shortly afterward a number of things began to sink in, among them being how odd it was that he was sleeping sitting up, also odd was the fact that he wasn't in a bed, and his bedroom certainly wasn't supposed to bounce and sway every little bit. It was at this final realization that he finally opened his eyes, shut them again, then opened them a good deal more slowly and carefully, and found him self to be sitting in a train car, wider then he would had expected, a long bench, padded, lined with red felt ran down one side, stopped at the end of the car, there was a door, and a similar bench ran up his side as well, beneath him, and onward to the other end of the train, where there was another door. Set at intervals were brass poles that ran from ceiling to floor. He found him self thinking passingly of the polar express, one of his favorite Christmas movies. The windows were black mirrors, though not for virtue of being mirrors, he could see occasional lights passing in the distance, as though towns, far far away, the lighting in the cabin wasn't the harsh false light that came from fluorescent bulbs. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure where the light was coming from, it certainly wasn't from the lamps, each burning with, he blinked, rainbow colored fire, not that each lamp was burning a different color, each lamp was burning a rainbow turned flame, he mused a moment as to what kind of fuel could cause that, before realizing they didn't seem to be burning anything at all.

"The...Hell" he said simply. It wasn't a question. It wasn't a statement. It was merely the fact that when you wake up to visions such as these, something simply needs to be said, and it was the first thing that came to mind. It did how ever draw his attention away from everything else, and focus it instead on him self, as his voice had changed, the pitch was wrong, higher, smoother, something a kin to going from a scratchy record to a singing crystal in its vibrations. He swung his feet idly as he sat, they weren't coming directly into contact with the floor, and scratched at his throat, trying a few times to clear it to no avail, his voice remained encoragably the same, but as he did so he thought passingly he was in need of a shave, then he realized he shaved the day before, and in any account human facial hair simply doesn't grow into the silken fluff he felt at his fingertips. He held his hand out in front of his face, at first he thought he was wearing a glove, it was covered in white, he turned it, and in the palm was leathery pink flesh, with corresponding dots running up his fingers at intervals between each knuckle, and being tipped with a glassy black claw "uhmmm" looking down he saw his feet, while still being human like, were in a similar state, and, in doing so, realized he wasnt wearing shoes. Or pants. He was in fact, only wearing a tshirt, which he had bemoaned earlier that day being a bit snugger on him then most in that size range, and lamented not having tried it on before buying it. It went down almost to his knees like a night shirt. "UHMMMM!?" He leapt to his feet, almost falling flat on his butt at overcompensation, he seemed stronger then he should had been, he darted across the car to look at him self in the window. Luckily, he was alone in the car so there was no one there to tell him to "keep it down, or at least stop screaming like an idiot." though it would had been good advice, which he came to eventually on his own.

Different people do deal with trauma in different ways, its just nature. Some people in Echo's situation, I.E. suddenly finding them selves in an unfamiliar situation, in an unfamiliar place, and in an unfamiliar form, to say not a word of having lost more then a fair number of years along the way, might had passed out in shock, others would have screamed them selves hoarse, still others would have taken it somewhat poorly. Echo is not, let the record show, different people. Or, more precisely, Echo was him self, rather or not he was, in fact, different people, is a matter of psychology and rather beside the point. The point, as it happens, is that he was handling it okay, or at least as well as could be expected anyway. After screaming like a frightened child, a description both fitting and accurate, pacing to work off the panic, and tugging out the neck of his dress sized tshirt, peering past the puppy fat, and making sure that, if you will forgive, "the more things change, the more they say the same", which in his case, they were, for the most part anyway being that different mammals tend to be built in different ways, he was beginning to calm down. What he had seen in the reflection after all was not human, but rather, something he first imagined as a sort of a cartoon character it wasn't, but its what his mind could handle at that moment. What it actually was could be described as a more perfect union combining traits of a human, and an animal, in his case a snowy white wolf, but not in a way that likely would have evolved naturally.

After several moments, and once he finally calmed to take stock of him self, he honestly thought the part that bothered him most were the eyes...ignoring the oddity of it, the form rather suited him, it was cute, it was fluffy, and he could have grown to like it, but something of his adulthood lingered in the eyes that he just could not seem to shake off, the kind of heavy, long suffered, empty and overly calculating look of someone who was very intelligent so not at all dull, but while having not been through hell, had been none the less miserable for it. It bothered him for reasons he couldn't quite identify, and did so greatly. Perhaps it made him look that he were up to something, maybe it just looked out of place on an otherwise youthful face, what ever the reason, he didn't like it at all. This quite aside from the fact that they seemed to be glowing amber like a pair of roadway caution lamps on their own accord. He paused to consider that maybe it was because of the nature of what he was using as a mirror, he loathed things that were black and still had the audacity to be reflective, and it was his personal superstition, like wizards and the number that is twice four, 7A, and for much the same reason, to never come with in an arms length of anything as such. The theory being that if he couldn't reach it, it couldn't reach him either, he hoped that to be the case at any rate. His musings were interrupted by the sound of squeaky wheels rolling, the doors on old trains slid instead of swinging for obvious reasons, a loud rush of passing wind, another squeaking, silence, and a voice that sounded ever so slightly familiar, only slightly because it was filled with panic and dread when last he'd heard it.

"Oh...your awake..uhm..good" he said slowly" he spoke slowly as if he were speaking from a memorized script that just feel apart on his tongue and he was hunting for something to say "did you sleep well?" He grimaced. Echo's head turned slowly, eyed the youth up and down, and was ever so slightly irritated to find him self slightly shorter then the boy, who him self couldn't had been more then 12, he frowned, almost pouted, then composed him self. The boy had short, recently, but not freshly trimmed auburn hair, eyes made of rust, and a few freckles about his cheeks on tan caucasian skin, he was dressed in a Ben 10 jersey and shorts and not cheap but not expensive shoes "Yeah, pretty good" he'd have thought his mouth wouldn't work right, but aside from change in pitch his voice and speech sounded as normal as it ever did. He tousled his hair thoughtlessly and frowned, glancing up as his bangs fell into his eyes "how about you? your sister okay?" he had assumed it was the boy's sister he was running with. The boy blinked "Sis? oh, yah, shes fine...cried for a while, you know how girls are, but i bought her a toy from the...uhm" he looked like he was trying to remember something "moo..gal? something like that anyway, shop" he would had called it a gift shop, but it wasn't one, he wasn't sure WHAT it was, but it certainly was something "and that cheered her up.." at this he looked somewhat embarrassed as if he'd done something wrong. Echo nodded "well, long as shes okay...hey, can I ask you something?" The boy looked pleased to be on another subject "shoot!"

Echo shrugged, turned, looked back into the dark window, licked over the row of sharp little teeth that filled his mouth, reached up a paw, and tugged gently on one of his pointed ears testingly "this is going to sound stupid..but...what do i look like to you?" the boy looked at him in confusion "I mean...well..i mean what i mean, i seem different then i remember. And i want to make sure I'm not mad." This last part wasn't said out loud, but inside the words bounced around inside his skull as if he'd screamed them. The boy considered him another moment, seemed to decide he had been beholden to enough odd things already so why not "you look like some kind of animal, like a dog or something, with white fur, glowing yellow eyes, can talk, walk on your hind legs and are very nearly naked, i don't know why" the boy seemed to think being nearly naked made nearly no sense, a person, animal or otherwise, should either have the common decency to be fully dressed, or the common indecency to be fully undressed, being somewhere in between just didn't make sense. Echo rather agreed and said simply "I was afraid of that" and shook his head, the boy continued on. "Name's Zack, by the by, an' my sis's name is Cass, you?" Echo was ever so slightly amused, by posture and tone he could tell the boy was trying to sound cool, there tends to be a protocol between boys, coolness must be established on the onset if it is to be established at all. Zach was failing and Echo didn't have the heart to tell him.

Echo instead merely shrugged, tilted his head in the window, then turned "I lost my name." to this the boy looked down as if embarrassed "oh..sorry i...wait...what?" Echo smirked a bit...he might have intended that, just a little "well, its a long story and i dont even know if i understand it. Those..things, that attacked you...well, they caught me." He didn't elaborate further...from the look on the boys face he didn't need to, he had probably seen what happened to things that get caught "So, everything was dark" he skipped the next part "and then i was like this...no name, different body, and i had a weapon that actually worked on them..." the boy interrupted "you mean that freaky axe you had?" Echo shrugged "sword" he corrected automatically in the way one would if he heard someone call a shoe a butterdish "sword, then" Echo nodded "that's the one...anyway, then i heard you guys yelling, and came running. Call me Echo, its a good a name as any and i like how it sounds." The boy, Zack, nodded, smiled, and inwardly wished he'd thought to make up some cool new name for him self too, but it hadn't occurred to him at the time, oh well. "So, those things tried to kill you" the boy started, Echo interrupted automatically, though he regretted it, it seemed rude "not kill...they don't kill". The boy stared "then why..." Echo reached out a clawed finger and touched the boy ever so gently in the center of his chest "they wanted that" Zach looked at first alarmed at having this nearly naked beast boy reaching a paw out toward him, but some how knew there was nothing to be afraid of, and relaxed "what..? my heart?" the wolf boy nodded "your heart..your soul...the thing that makes you..." he struggled for a word, failed, and settled on "the thing that makes YOU not THEM. Its what they are called, Heartless..beings with no heart..devourers of hearts, so forth" which made Zack fidget awkwardly. "And...you saved us?" Echo nodded. "Why?" Echo shrugged and said "What else could i do...i heard you screaming, and came running" he repeated "...fought them off, and passed out...i was pretty tired by that point." Zack nodded, he could see that. "It seemed the thing to do, saving you i mean, not passing out" Zack nodded "I could help you, you needed help..and then i woke up here...speaking of...where is..here?"

Zack opened his eyes wide in realization he'd failed to mention this "OH!...well, after you took out those things..." "Shades" yawned Echo.. "or Shadows...don't ask, i have no idea why i know that, its just there in my head alluvasudden..anyway, sorry, go on" the boy Zack looked thoughtful, that was a cool name for them, he was musing about how cool it would sound, telling this tale later, about how hew as aved from soul devouring shadows from a sword wielding werewolf cub...he would leave out his lack of apparel.. he shook his head to bring him self back on topic "yeah, well, when you beat them up and they disappeared, they dumped this shower of little yellow things..like dots, or marbles...that kinda spun around you and disappeared..the conductor said..." The boy stopped, and rolled his eyes back, looking like he was trying to remember what was said, he liked telling stories, this didn't bother Echo at all, bards are rarer then they should be, but he interrupted the other boy's thoughts yet again "Conductor?" Zack nodded distantly "yeaaaah...oh, ill get to him in a minute..real up tight guy, anyway, he said they were called Munny, and were used as money." Echo blinked "Munny?" he had thought it sounded somewhat redundant, money being used as money, what else would you use it for, but having said it aloud, he realized for no apparent reason the difference, like saying "Yen" or "Euro" it just happened to sound comically the same. "Yep...anyway...you were passed out annnnd...you're going to think this is weird.." Echo almost laughed, and said "weirder then what exactly?" and grinned, he was feeling considerably better now, and was actually growing to like this Zack, Who paused, looked at him, smiled, and said "Fair 'nuff."

And so, Echo sat the better part of an hour leaning back on the bench, head tilted back, paws behind his head, occasionally scratching his tummy, or flicking an ear, or tousling his now naturally mussy hair...which suited him, or making sure his shirt was covering him properly, and listening to Zack talk. He went into great detail about how they had just sat there, the three of them occasionally hearing a distant scream, or yelp, or yowl, and watch his sleeping form, and how startled they were when suddenly what looked like a tunnel of earth and asphalt erupted out of the ground and an old man in a clerks hat with a railroad lantern stomped out of it, looked around, then started cursing at them for just sitting there when he was already running late to Faeoak, which he gathered was a town. Apparently the conductor had been loathe to go near him, and kept calling him a nobody, this offended Echo greatly, but Zack assured him that the man was saying it in a similar way that he used the word "Heartless", like the name of a thing he dreaded, not that he didn't think he was important or something, and probably didn't mean it cruelly. Apparently after some fuss, and because he apparently was the only one of the three who had any "Munny", the conductor pressed Echos thumb to a receipt for three tickets on a clip board, a golden 600 with a stylized M in front of it appeared, and helped Zack carry him down the stair way at the mouth of the tunnel that opened as if the road had grown sleepy and were yawning. It was apparently awkward having to carry him over one shoulder and his sister who was still fussing over the other.

"I still say this conductor sounds like a jerk" said Echo, with crossed arms. "He is one, but he let us on, he didn't have to, i guess" yawned Zack, and it occurred to Echo he probably hadn't slept, taking care of his sister, and probably keeping an eye on him...being older means responsibility, something he was well aware of. "So...this thing we're in is the Ghost Train?" Zack was, at this point, as alert as a three toed sloth, but wasn't the type to be grouchy about it "yehhhp.." yawned the boy, and Echo was loathe to keep him up any longer "ss'whut da mmm conductor said anyhow.." Echo stood and stretched "you said this train had a shop on it?" to which Zack took a moment to reply, then realized he'd been asked a question "mmmmmmhmmm" and looked nearly zombified "off to bed with you, go find your sister and lay down with her, shoo.." and Zack nodded "your not gonna disappear on us are ya?" he said slowly, sleepily, and Echo smiled, happy to have made a new friend, it had, after all, been some time sense he'd done so. "Im not going anywhere Zack, i promise, go, sleep" to which Zack smiled, nodded, and hobbled back up the car, the door squealed open, squealed shut, and Echo turned to eye him self in the window once more, looked down, tugged at his massive shirt and said 4 simple words. "Now, wheres this shop?"

sighs somewhat bitterly

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 10:07:13 GMT

It does never and shall never cease to amaze just how easily small things can utterly wreck an otherwise somewhat good mood.

One of the best things to accomplish it is disrespecting someone elses belongings.

Greg excells at this.

For one, any time he is on a road trip with me he takes delight in criticising my satnav, insisting its "a piece of garbage that wastes gas, and any idiot would be better off just using dead reconing". yes, you brainless sack of shit, you use dead reconning to navigate all you fucking like, its wonderful for getting you somwhere that you dont even know is there, let alone it being vuagly somewhere in this or that general direction. They call it dead reconning for a reason, it comes from the pioneer days, people who navigated by simply generally assuming that what they were looking for was somewhere..that-a-way...usually ended up dead...you come from a race of people who evolved on a group of islands that each was only a few miles across and thus missing your distination was no big deal, as if you continue walking in a zig zag fashion you are bound to find it eventually, so i could give a damn about your sense of navigation. Also, i told mom that i forbid him from eating in my car ever again, Angel is allowed, She is allowed, he is forbidden, owing to the fact that he shoved a bunch of packets of barbque sauce into one of my seat pockets which is now full of viscus goo...as far as im concerned he can drink his own piss and eat his own shit, as thats all hes bringing with him to fill him self when he goes somewhere with me.

Well...in this case specifically, he left my ps3 running, with a blue ray movie playing in it, leaving any sugnificantly advanced piece of hardware running continually in this day and age, with overheating and all, is a good way to shorten its lifespan conciderably, i told mom this...now im telling her if it happens again i am finding a way to password lock the thing in which case if they want to use it at all they will have to come to me on a case by case basis and ask my permission...if it happens again. Id rather not do this as it makes things inconvenient on everyone involved, but rather people respect me or not, they will respect my belongings...

fuck, and i was in a good mood till now...

Echo/ouT

Indecision.

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 00:01:02 GMT

I...am going to try to continue writing my little fanfic...at least for the moment...if nothing else its something to occupy my brain with....

I am...undecided as to how to handle magic...I was thinking...maybe an ether gun? its either that or something like pills or the like...i would rather avoid injections, for one, ewww, for two, too bioshock...and three, perhaps a bit too dark for kh base...

kh fanfic...

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:56:58 GMT

im still working on this, a good portion of the third portion needs outright rewriting..i would appreciate it if one of you guys could give atleast a bit of it a read and tell me if its the worst thing youve ever read so i can talk my self out of wasting more time on it...

UPDATE fixed some issues i think, spelling is still a problem though, i added a bit here, fixed a bit there, hopefully sprinkles will be ever so slightly more pleased with this version. *resolves to reread his work from now on before posting it.*

A tail of the Kingdoms of Heart

Chapter One: In which we hear the beginning of our story, all stories have one.

"My name is Ozymandias. Look on my works, Ye Mighty,and despair!" Percy Bysshe Shelly.

The world was not new, freshly wrought from, well, what ever it happened to have been wrought from, spoken into existance, or sneazed onto the tissue of reality, or built by sticks and mud, or perhaps the great winds of Causality were simply broken into existance from one tiny black hole, a big bang as it were, how ever it was created, this wasnt then. In fact, at this beginning, as there are many places it could be said it had begun, it was actually quite old. So old in fact that not only many creatures, but many species of creature, had been born, came to rule all the world, died, and been promptly forgotten. Three women stood upon a rope and wood slat bridge over a river, they were chatting <which is to say water is wet>. "So, it is to begin, then?" Said one of the of the women, a crumbled, ancient, wreck of a woman, so wrinkled and stooped and misteyed with age she could had been a gargoyl and passed without a second thought unless seen to move, in which case youd swear you were wrong or mad, as she was never seen to move. "And its about time too!" giggled another woman, this one was little more than a girl, her skin was fair and flawless, her hair perfect, she was dressed and carried her self impecably, her words were like the singing of angels and the chiming of bells, truly, she was perfection personified. "Patience, patience my little sister" said the third woman, but gently, and kindly...she looked care warn, and her body and face was rounded, as though she had reared and raised many a child, and was now facing yet another new mouth to feed...not that she minded of course. "Yes..it is to begin" she spoke gently, with caring in her voice.

"Sooooo?" muttered the chrone, the virgin looked on the old one with disdane, as she always did, but continued "yeah, what now?". The mother smiled at them both,lifted a fallen branch she had lifted from the path earlier that day, and leaned it, gently, and carefully, against one of the rope cords which helped support the bridge. "There...it is done". Her sisters stared. The virgin spoke first "Thats...thats it? thats what you dragged us all the waY out here for?" The mother smiled. "Yes...that is it...". They stood in silence a moment more, then the old one bunched her shawls about her hump and croaked "it is getting dark, and cold, and my bones are old, i want to go hoooome" this brought another look of revulsion from the child, who looked like she wanted to say what she thought of the old woman, but relented and said "well, yeah, i guess if we are done here..." and bussied her mind with thoughts of the market, to which the mother simply smiled. And then, as if they had never been there they were gone, the virgin, the mother, and the chrone.

Fate. It can be said it is a funny, fickle thing. You never really see it at work. It is, how ever, the small things that change the world, and, in the eyes of fate, the smaller, and more distant, the better. A butterfly flutters on a cactus rose in egypt, a hundred years and a thousand leagues later, there is, or isnt, a huricane in the atlantic as a result of that tiny little bit of turbulance in the vast engine of ordered chaos that is life. Our branch, left sitting haphazardly against the rope of a bridge, shall be found by a boy with a limp, who will call it the light of providence that he found it, and grow to be, against all odds, the chieftan of his small villege, where the staff its self will become known as the light of providence, and become the right to rule in his village as the rod of kings. His sons will fight over it. His decendants will rule with it. And kill for it. Build up a great city around it, and worship it as the holy staff and the man who holds it as though he were god. It is, how ever, as it ever was, just a stick, found on a path, and layed against the rope of a bridge, forgotten. And, as Fate would have it, and they do alyways get their way, all civilization is doomed to ruin. And so, many, many years later, some self stylized adventurer and archaeologist stumbles across it in a crumbled and ruined temple, brings it home, sells it as a trinket, it gets passed down through families, scratched, scuffed, broken in two, banished to the attic, and finally tossed in the garbage. Can gets knocked over, bit of a stick falls into the side walk, where a man in his mid 20s trips over it, goes down on his knees, and curses, loudly. Fate CAN be a bitch, after all.

The man growled and rubbed his knees, which were now somewhat skined, looking relatively ill tempered. Things, as it happened, had not been going at all well for him, not that they ever /really/ went well for anyone, but he was the type that was bothered by it. He scooped up the broken Light of Provedence, Rod of Kings and Holy Staff and moved to throw it as hard and as far as he could in his temper, and then he paused. It should be noted, a funny thing about a man, or woman, just to be pc, or, cat, dog, vampiric peacock..or anything for that matter, is that what hesheit looks like on the outside is a result of genetics, diet, and process of physical entropy, none of these things in any way are a reflection of the core of their being. And, while our foul mouthed and ill tempered friend looks like a man in his middle 20s on the outside, inside...

He rolled the broken staff between his fingers, feeling its smooth, though worn surface against his palm, it glistened dully in the mid afternoon sun, he held it by one end. It was somewhat stylized, funny markings or letts running down the length, with a s design near the head. Something doesnt pass through that many hands without being, shall we say, improved, upon, over time, and, upon glancing around to see if anyone was watching, grinned. "HAH!" he swung the staff a sthough it were a sword. "Hyyyah!" he swung it again, and in his heart was a child again, figting pirates, or dragons, or demons, or what ever have you, "whoosh" as he swung it yet again, feeling quite acomplished with it, he thought, he looked, of course, like an idiot, "OWW!" the stick "thwok"ed against a tree trunk and the vibrations shot up into his arm, which he shook to get feeling back to. "Well, i suppose i deserved that" he grumbled, sighed, glanced around again, looked at his watch, then looked at the bit of wood, smiled, tucked it under his belt, and continued on his way, a tad bit more merrily then a few moments earlier.

Chapter 2, In which things become very strange, very quickly, and a our hero falls into darkness.

One of the many things that had not been going in the way of our "would be" swordsman is that, for lack of being able to find adequate employment, he'd had to move back in with is family. This wasnt all bad, mind, he loved his family..most of them anyway, but, in a society where a man is judged by his work, people tend to view a man with no-job as no-thing, and it wore on his self esteem. But he did keep him self busy doing chores and running errands, driving his sister about to her thises and thatses, a soccer brother if you will, excluding that his sister didnt play soccer, which was sad as it was the only sport he had interest in, but tonight he had decided to just go out on a walk...something he would probably catch hell for later. He had become somewhat of a fixture, and while no one seemed to notice what he did when he was there, things tend to pile when he wasnt.

It had, judging by the street lamps flickering above, gotten a good deal later then he had anticipated, and there would be alot of work for him when he got home. Another funny thing about a man, is that depending on culture, he is often trained to ignore instinct, which is to say, its dark, the stars are out, its eerily quiet, it must be night time. He found him self not resting his hand on, but rather squeazing it around the end of the stick protruding from his belt, less in the way of a warrior gripping his sword, but more the way a child grips a teddybear when frightened. What was this growing sense of urgency, no, not urgency, he was having trouble placing it. The feeling was panic.

As if the silence could not stand its self any more, it was shattered by the sound of tin trash cans being over-turned, which startled the poor fellow and made him jump so badly he would not had been surprised to feel something wet running down his thigh. As it happened he did not. He did how ever see a cat, which wasstanding, arch backed, spitting and yowling furiously at something he couldnt see around the corner of a house. "STUPID CAT!" he called, as if it made the racket just to startle him, he shook him self, he was being stupid, and it was getting late. He continued walking.

It should be noted, conditioned to ignore instinct or not, a large black form lurking in the darkness will not go long unnoticed, and as he started to pass the cat, he saw what it was yowling at. At first he assumed it a dog, a doberman perhaps? Two, large, glowing dots in the darkness, like two amber light bulb that refused, paradoxically, to illuminate anything, and then it moved into the dim light. He didnt see where it was, so much as where it wasnt.. like ink had been blotted across a small portion of his vision, it had no texture or depth, only shape, which was, some what human, but somewhat not, it had two jagged lightning bolt shapes like antenna comeing off its head, he mused in passing that if he got around beside it it would be flat as a shadow, though it clearly wasnt the case...

He stood stock still, as though if he didnt move he would go unnoticed. It was one of those things you are taught as a child, dont run from dogs, they will chase you, and it tends to become so ingrained you use the logic for everything that frightens you, and he was frightened,wouldnt you be? The cat certainly was, it was creeping backwards and howling at the, well, the, the thing, what ever it was, as it drew closer, its face? if you could call it that, split into a grin, of sorts, and he caught him self thinking of Jack of the lantern, a jagged grin, lit by amber light from within. And then it pounced. The cat screached and howled and writhed as it hung from the maw of the beast, and then, something, if possible, more odd happened. As he watched, gripped in terror, clutching the stick, as before, not for defense but just in need to hold..something, anything, the thought of an incense burner, in reverse, insanely drifted into his head. The shadow being seemed to turn into smoke, and, rather then exude from the cat, be sucked into it, untill it was gone. The cat hung in mid air for a moment, then fell limply to the ground. He was never sure what possessed him, but the man, finally drawing the stick from his belt drew closer to examine the corpse of the animal, untill it twitched, and then twitched again, and rose back to its paws, its body deforming hideously as it moved, its tiger stripes becomeing jagged and lightning bolt like, glowing amber, and swelling up to the size of a tiger. And there was just nothing else for it, he ran, as if all the denizens of a thousand hells were snapping at his ankles.

He never knew he could run so fast, or so far, nor was he entirely sure where he was running to, or how far he had run, but, after some time, breathing hard, he found him self hiding under a porch and looking out. It had been some time sense he felt the ground quaking and the thundering paw beats of the monstrous cat chasing him, and he felt, for a moment, safe. Safe enough to take stock of what had happened at least, he looked out, looked up, and was nearly sick on the spot at what he had mistaken for the night sky. It was not a sky filled with stars, but rather, thousands, millions, of tiny yellow dots wriggleing and writhing and running together, could each of them be one of those monsters? how, where, could he run to hide from so many? The man, while not the bravest of creatures, did not feel him self a coward, but even heros know when to run, when to fight, when to hide, and when to scream like a little girl, duck, cover, and try not to mess them selves as to die with some tiny shread of dignity. This was definitely a time for the last of these things.

His musings were interupted when he heard something, yelling, and crying, children from the sound of it "C'mon! c'mon Cassy! its com- dont stop you moron they'll catch us!" He poked his head out to observe the comotion, and was surprised to see two children, one, a boy, dragging the other, a girl, along. "Buh i dwopped Thindy!" sobbed the girl, who was reaching back down the street, she was little more then a toddler, the boy was older, in his early teens maybe...probably not though...and looked mad enough to curse. As a matter of fact, he did just that, then said "I dont care about your stupid doll! c'mon, do you want them to catch us?! Look what they did to mom and dad!! OH!" the boy cursed again, and justly so.

Several more of the the dark shapes seemed to swell up out of the ground, two, maybe three, and there was a horrible scream as the little girl saw them, it was probably the screaming that atracted them, he reasoned. The two ran. "Come on..come o..no..not down there, thats a dead end.." he groaned under his breath as he watched them run. He shook his head. Any sinsible man with half a brain would know to leave well enough alone and leave the kids to their fate, it was them after all that were dumb enough to run down a dead end. Survival of the fittest and all. He got up and ran towards the coldesac the shadows had just vansished down. Well, there was no where to run, you see, and no where to hide, and hed be damned if he were going to just sit here and do nothing atleast it would be an intersting way to go. Just as he had remembered, it was a dead end, and he could hear the boy yelling, calling for help, cursing,shouting empty threats, and the girl screaming and sobbing. He shook his head. "Well...go not gently" he mumbled to him self, and, lifting the broken walking stick,and gripping it tightly, he Charged.

As he neared the creatures of darkness he roared in as intimidating a way he could, though he would have frozen mid step if he could when one turned to look at him, it was easily as big as he was...well, maybe slightly smaller. The look in its eyes, if that was indeed what they were, was dead, empty, like the buttons sewn onto a doll. Up close they looked even blacker, more void of depth and texture then ever, like seeing an image on a broken LCD, just a blot ofdarkness, with eyes, and a mouth, splattered across a background. It was too late now, though, and selfishly, he knew he would never be able to live with him self if he let something happen to these to save his own skin, so, he lept into the middle creature of the three, he was no martial artist, but he thought maybe tackleing the middle one to the ground might give the children a window to run, should they have the sense to leap through the hole and run, its amazing the things you can talk your self into when you dont expect to win, but alas, no such luck. The sensation of his body comeing into contact with these /things/ was indescribable, it made him feel cold, alone, empty, and worse, well, the closest thing you could describe it to would be leaping into a statue made of jello, only dryer, he just slid right through.

He groaned, as it occured to him he was laying on the ground, and, pushing him self back up to a crouching position he saw the boy was looking at him with a mixture of dashed hope and pity, as well as an expression that said frankly "i wonder if that made you feel as stupid as it looked". But no time to be embarassed, he shook his head and spun and swung the stick, still clenched in his now scraped and battered hand, as if to decapitate one the forms, and he very nearly tought he did, all three in fact, as the "sword" sank sickeningly through one neck, then another, then another, in the same exact way his body had earlier. The exact same way. He shook his head and continued strike after strike to no avail, the wooden sword just sinking through time after time. It was, after all, just a stick.

A note as to the nature of these creatures, which are known simply by their base description, Heartless, or rather, those with no heart, what draws them to people is the heart inside, the warm, gooey center if you will, and the stronger the heart, the more appetizing, something our white knight seems to have noticed, as the three shades were converging not on /them/, but on /him/ now that he was attacking them, and virtually ignoring the children, their hearts small and frightened, and so, he said the only thing he could think of. "RUN!, stupid RUN! take the girl and RUN! they are on me now!" And he pointed at the opening that had been left as the beasts bunched around him. "B-but!" the boy stammered "RUN OR I'LL WACK YOU INSTEAD! IT FOULD FEEL NICE TO FEEL THIS THING   CONNECT TO SOMETHING!" The boy looked at the bit of wood, and nodded "thank y-" "RUN!" he was interupted, and finally, did.

Distracted as you may be by the main course of a meal, you are still going to notice if the appetizers jump up on your plate and start to run away, and, their fleeing did not go un- noticed. One shade turned as they started to flee and moved to pursue, and the man acted without thinking "oh no you dont!" he wailed, and grabbed the form by the back of its neck, it squished revoltingly and suddenly he had a fist full of jellow, it seemed, atleast phased enough by this for the children to escape, but their departure was not without its price. He felt one set of jaws close into the flesh of his forarm, as another set sank into his shoulder. It was worse then he imagined, like ice water flooding into his veins. He thought passingly what it would be like, would he turn into something? like the cat? or would he just be eaten? And then, as if in answer to his question about what would come net, all became dark, and still, and silent.

Chapter 3, In which there comes a key moment, and a new path is unlocked.

Time passed, who can say how much, it could have been hours, days, an entire age of the world, or maybe it was only seconds, but time did in fact, pass.

"Peaceful here isnt it?" said the voice. "MMMMmmm" he moaned, as if someone were trying to rest him from his sleep, he didnt know where he was, he didnt care. "Sorry, did i wake you?" the voice came again, a little louder "yes..." he mumbled..then things started comeing back to him...he tried to open his eyes...he couldnt..or maybe they were already open, he didnt know, he tried to sit up, he couldnt, did he have a body to sit up inside of? "am i dead?" was he speaking? thinking? "No..not dead...the Heartless do not kill, though some have, on ocasion, died while fleeing from the Heartless." He thought about that, but wasnt sure to make of it.

"That was a very brave thing you did. Stupid. But brave." He would had shrugged if he had shoulders "I thought you said that the...the..." the voice helped "Heartless" he would have nodded "heartless...dont kill..." The voice seemed amused "but you couldnt have known that, you were willing to give your life for someone you didnt even know, quite the hero" He sighed, he would have shaken his head if he had one to shake "i was being selfish..i couldnt have lived with my self if i didnt do something" to wit the voice outright laughed. "You do overthink things, dont you little boy" he frowned at this "i am not a little b-" "you are nothing but a voice in the darkness, but you have the heart of a little boy, so a little boy you are" his head was starting to hurt quite badly by this point, which was odd because he didnt have a head, he wondered passingly if the voice was questioning his inteligence, but decided it wasnt as it continued "and quite a thoughtful little boy as well... saying a person is selfish is like saying the ocean is damp, if something has a self, it is selfish, it doesnt make you a bad person, if you were a bad person, we wouldnt be having this conversation, for a number of reasons, not least of all being that you would not be worth my time, nor would be bothered by being selfish, which you clearly are."

"So..wh-" he began "what now?" the voice finished...he would have nodded...and strangely enough, found he could, in fact, he found he could sit up even, and so he did, and then he stood. He was standing on what looked like an enormous stained glass window,it seemed to be glowing but put off no light, and had some kind of design, but he was too close to it to make it out, for all he saw beyond that he could have been a pair of eyes floating in mid air. "That, i fear, depends on you, and you alone." He turned to look at where the vocie was comeing from, a beam of light in the middle of the stained glass illuminated a floating crystal heart, nothing gorey or morbid, just more like a huge ruby. "What do you desire?" he took a step nearer the jewel, it seemed to call to him, and as he did, he heard...or felt, a soft beating, like a thud    thud    thud    thud on a bass drum, slow, sleepy.

He shook his head "what do i desire?....you mean..what will make me happy?" To this the voice paused, as if concidering "nnno...people desire a great many things that bring them no happyness, and often find happynessin things they do not desire..what do you want...what do you need?" "Well, thats somewhat obvious isnt it? I want for none of this to have happened, to go home, for my family to be safe and unharmed...but...you cannot give me that" the voice sighed "no...and more, i do not think that desire would bring you happyness, about being back "home", i mean" He concidered "no...i guess it wouldnt...but i cant stay here." The voice paused "you could...if you desired, it would certainly be less painful then the path you are choosing for your self." He stopped...thought, then took another step toward the heart, the bass drum beating quickened thud thud thud thud.

"The boy...and the girl.." the voice knew what he was thinking, of course it did, how could it not "yes..they are still in danger." He nodded "then i desire..power..strength to fight...so i can protect them, can you give that to me?" "Power? Oh yes...power greater and more terrible then you can imagine, to protect, or to destroy." He took anotherstep, thud thud thud thud "tell me your name, little boy" he stopped at this "I...I dont remember my name" he looked down, as if ashamed, though he saw nothing there, just a empty space. "The person you were is gone, devoured by darkness...if you move forward you must leave the old you behind" He looked at the crystal heart, it was pulsating with light in rythem to the beat, he understood, he took another step, thudthudthudthud "you know your name, your true name, youve kept it inside all this time, speak it, and take my hand little boy, and we shall fight by your side, so long as you fight with all your heart." He took a breath, and as if hed known what to do from the very beginning, as if hed been waiting to do this his entire life, he reached out with his invisible hand, and closed it around the avatar of his own heart, and felt white fire flood into his body, and the darkness exploded around him, and light flooded every corner of his being, he flicked his wrist and there was a sword there, in the shape of an enormous key,and he spoke. "My name is Echo...and you?"

"Who am I..." as the voice spoke, the stained glass window began to crack, spiderwebs travled through it, as though it could no longer bare his weight "I am Me" the cracks spread, deepened "I am You" chunks of the glass collapsed, and he could see a writhing mass of darness and yellow pinpricks beneath it "I am the Avatar of your Heart, I, am the..." and then the glass shattered, atlast, and Echo fell, fell, fell. "Be not afraid, little boy, you weild the greatest power of all, for I am the.."

               **************************************************************

"HISSSSSSSSSSSS!!!" came a broken sound, like the whispering of the trees, or tumbleing of stones "Keeeeeeyblaaaade". Echo yelped as he felt the pain of three sets of jaws digging into him, and the rush of naked, raw, negative emotions flooding into him, but they did not overtake him. He snapped the hold one had on his forarm with strenght he didnt know he had, somehow they seemed more real now...he balled his paw into a fist, drew it back, and punched the thing right in the face, it yowled in pain, and was solid, and thus it didnt feel great to Echo either. He shoved the head whos jaws were clamped on his shoulderer away, and then kicked his leg free of the jaws that had locked them selves there. He was not bleeding...infact, once free, the pain was nearly gone. He looked down at his paw...something was different there, but he had no time to think, where the stick had once been, he found a magnificent enormous key in the style of an old skeleton key, stylized into a sword. It moved, and he was bound to it, so he moved with it. His motions were fluid, and natural, though they didnt feel it at all, it was like his body had stopped taking orders from his mind, and were obeying something else entirely. He destroyed, utterly, one, then two, then three, of the shades, and as his blade sank through them, they exploded with thousands of tiny crystal like hearts, which lingered for a moment, and then faded into nothing.

His ears perked as he heard a little girl's terrored screaming a universe away, and he ran off into the night, he was no longer afraid. His departure was observed by three sets of eyes which watched from the roof of one of the homes that formed the dead end,one old, one young, one inbetween. "So, guess we're all done, huh?" the girl was dressed in the latest fashions of course, she alwas ways. "YEEssssss," croaked the chrone, hunched, and cloaked in her shawls, she never changed at all, "one chosen by the keyblade exists beyond the strands of fate." The mother sighed, as though looking at one of her children, all grown up and no longer in need of her care "but that does not mean he is not in need of guidance..." "Or clothes" gigled the child. "Children today" croaked the ancient one "no sense of chastity at all" The child looked as if she wanted to stick her tongue out past her perfect lips, thought it was beneath her, and didnt, and they were gone.

Echo followed the screams, he would have cursed, but every time he thought about doing it te words seemed, he couldnt process it, some how thick, like trying to spit out a mouth full of peanut butter that had spoiled, they felt bad in his mouth and wouldnt leave it either, and so didnt, but he would had liked to, if the girls screaming was enough to draw his attention, his body already ached with exhaustion, but still he ran, and finally cought up.Somehow theyed managed to get trapped, again, in a semicircle, by a leigon of shades, the boy, who seemed somehow larger then when Echo had last seen him, was trying to fend the mosnters off with a wire rake, necessity being a mother and what not, and was swatting at them like flys. Echo had left fear to keep its self company back at the dead end, all was nerve and exhaustion now, and so, once more he allowed the mysterious power to overtake him. As he attacked his body moved with a grace and agility that he would not had thought possible of an adult body, especially one as exhausted as his own. And yet, tired as he was, one and two, and through and through, these required more effort then the first, he had a sense that these were better fed, they even looked a bit different, but only just, still, his blade knocked them back, and threw them into each other like rag dolls, untill one by one, they were vanquished.

Finally, Echo sank to his knees, panting in exhaustion, his tongue hanging out slightly, as seemed natural, his body felt strange in many ways, this was just another. "A...are you...one of them?" Echo blinked, and through his exhaustion looked up to the boy, they both seemed bigger some how, he propped him self up against the keyblade as he eyed the boy warily "one of what?" Echo responded a bit more testily then he'd meant, he usually prided him self on an even temper, but at this point he just didnt have the energy for it any more. "One of those...monsters...are you going to try to hurt us?" the boy said, raising the rake again "hurt you? i was trying to save you, dumb a....dummy..." he said sleepily, he was beginning to nod off "do i look like one of those..things?" "Well...kinda"..was the only reply he heard...but the keyblade disapeared in a flurry from his clawed paw, as though it were made of smoke, and Echo slumped over sideways...and the world left him once more.

Chapter 4: In which things become curiouser and curiouser.

HEY!! i was watching that!!

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 18:33:24 GMT

*grumble* i was in the middle of writing up a kingdom hearts fanfic when my muse up and left mid sentence...oh well, wha ti had here was probably pretty much crap anyway...