Ha! There's one job I wouldn't want.
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Ha! There's one job I wouldn't want.
Such is the tragic life of a nameless henchmen...
From a getting-to-know-you/flirting scene:
“What sort of parents name their child after Tycho Brahe?”
“Danes, I would imagine,” he said, “but in my case, amateur astronomers. They met over a telescope, they fell in love over a telescope, they claim they created me under an open sky of glittering stars.”
“Poetic,” she said. “And possibly too much information.”
onesecondglance--Just wanted to throw this out there. I'm arachnophobia and I nearly passed out reading your quote, but I just couldn't stop reading it! Very awesome.
Let's see... My line today (if anyone cares ) is...
'If I don't deliver, they'll kill her, but is that really a bad thing, at least for me?'
Yikes. My MC is a dick. Haha.
Great lines, guys!
The Perfect Soldier - Complete. Editing.
Afterlife Redemption (working title; formerly Realm of Fear): 47,500/80,000 -- ON HOLD
Post-climax, in which MC Lowell's sidekick Teddy killed a man for the first time.
He looked to Teddy, a million miles away. The guy was different. It wasn't in his eyes or face or shoulders even. It was his hands. They moved deliberately and Teddy watched their every motion with reluctant deference. He was something else now, something irreversible. And all because of the cataclysm of Lowell's obsession. He tried to tell himself this was what Teddy wanted, what he asked for, what he was paid to do. Lowell let it go. He had deceived himself too long. It only caused hurt and tragedy—to him and to others.
Wow. Very nice, everyone!
The MC has just (rather foolishly) tried to escape from the bad guys. It's foolish because he has just woken up in hospital having been hit by a car and he's in no fit state to run anywhere. Needless to say, he didn't get away, although he did manage to give the bad guys a bit of a runaround.
He felt no pain when the pistol butt smashed consciousness from him. There was only the darkness, beckoning him in blissful silence. He followed it down gladly, embracing it like a long-missed lover. His assailant spat and wiped his brow.
"Get this bastard out of here. He's got some fuckin' explaining to do."
Wow! Some awesome stuff posted in the past few days. There is definitely talent here!
To add to it, here is a brief scene from my current WIP. Kelli is down in Colombia with the new DEA Agent and his team. They are at the house of Miguel Garcia's girlfriend and her family, but what they find is not what they expected.
In all her years on the job, Kelli had seen some gruesome crime scenes, but this had to be the worst. Now she felt like a rookie, leaning against the front of the house, bent over and puking. She stood, wiped her mouth and walked back to the road. She needed to put some distance between herself and the carnage inside.
Police cars now filled the street in front of the house, crime scene tape hung loosely from one post to another, creating a makeshift boundary. Kelli felt a tap on her shoulder and jumped a little. She turned to see Larsen, a sick look on his face.
And glad you're back, Ken.
A few new lines, fresh off the press. Kelli got some information from a gang member turned snitch, who is currently in isolation at Rikers. The thing is, the guy destroyed the note he got from another prisoner and he wouldn't name his source. Kelli found out anyway.
Kelli had spent the rest of the afternoon talking to several of the corrections officers at Rikers, finally locating one who recalled the trustee working that night. The man was Victor Sanchez, a small time thief and part time drug dealer.
As she had expected, Victor had vehemently denied passing a note to Jesus, and she didn’t press it. His denial reminded her of a line from Hamlet, except for the fact that Victor was far from being Queen Gertrude, he was protesting a little too much.
Poor Frank. He doesn't even know I'm trying to think of a way to kill him off.Frank wandered out of the building avoiding eye contact with the bullish and the righteously angry. It felt good to feel the cold rain crawling down the back of his collar, felt good to shiver as that river trailed its fingers down his spine. He deserved it. Maybe it would wash the blood off him. Probably not.
Yikes! Poor Frank indeed!
Good stuff, onesecondglance. I could feel the rain running down my back. *brrr*
Alas, poor Frank has no idea what's coming.
Okay here goes...
My first proper post.
Here's the line (well two actually)
This line relates to a character approaching a pile of rags on a concrete floor.
As he neared the detritus on the floor he saw it visibly tense. He could taste the fear emanating from within the tattered fabric.
kirc! Nice lines. Are the rags sentient, or is there something lurking inside?
oh its a person under there... or at least what's left of the person if you know what I mean - still alive but barely.
Whatever his decision, if he didn’t make it out the ADF would ensure his closest relatives were looked after both financially and with counselling. Brett laughed at that. He was an orphan from birth and brought up in institutions. His mother died during birth and his father? Who the hell knew who his father was? He didn’t. The Special Services was the only family he had now. Perhaps the rest of the Team could have a party on the money then get counselling for a hangover?
Aw, poor Brett!
Just wrote this, and wrapped up a tough scene. Kelli is under protective custody, per her Lieutenant, as the word is out that Miguel Garcia is either in NYC or on his way. She slipped out to meet with Dan Davis in Central Park, after receiving a text from him
As she started to turn, something slammed into her chest and she was thrown backwards, hitting the stone railing of the bridge.
She slumped to the ground and as her vision blurred, her only thought was of Kevin, and how pissed he was going to be that she got herself killed.
Here's mine for today:
Well, the genocide AND the three Angels I was suspected of harvesting while staying in Heaven had been enough to get me banished. That’s why Faith and I were here. She wanted to prove I was innocent of the harvesting charges. I was probably guilty of the genocide though.
She's not dead!
Just adding a line from a short story i'm putting up on DeviantArt. I would like to show my current talent instead of just saying "I write well".
"It's just after eight on a friday, and the quiet rumble of the dryers is starting to get to me. I could have made my stand anywhere in town, but choosing a campus laundromat felt like the best option. Having my last moments at a place frequented by drunken frat-boys and ramen noodle-munching skateboarders makes it easy to ensure no one is around to watch you die."
Might modify the "best option" line, but this is just an exercise. Great lines from everyone else!