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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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Malachi Perish
✓ A Fact by Death the Kid's Wife

A week has passed. Only a week.

And now I only have a day to prepare. Adrenaline, the sister of fear, courses through my veins as I breathe a shaky sigh, filling my lungs with oxygen as I anticipate the growing hours that will determine my fate here at the Academy, as though I were about to jump off the highest peak of the icy Himilayas with only a parachute to secure my survival.

Kid has taught me well, and I owe him all the credit in the world. If it weren't for him, I would not have this second chance. I have to make the best of the situation; I must seize this magnanimous opportunity...or I will be lost and all my work will be wasted.

I close my eyes and sit back on the dun-colored wall, my sketchbook in one hand and my pencil in the other. I've been drawing more pictures than usual lately. Normally, I only draw when I'm inspired, but this raw feeling of unabashed certainty and passion has been bubbling up inside my head for the longest time. Drawing is the easiest avenue I know to let it all out. Just me, my brain, and the gradient lead of the pencil on paper as it shifts like...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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✓ A Fact-Fiction by Death the Kid's Wife

It's a beautiful day. And right about now, I would start going off about how the pavement is soaking up the sunshine and I'm at ease, but that's not the case. In fact, sunshine is probably my worst enemy right now.
    I glare down at the ground, my hands on my knees. I haven't worked this hard in a while. That's for certain. My legs feel wobbly and weak, my entire being fatigued from all the exercises I've endured thus far here at the Academy. It's the end of the day. Everyone has retired to their homes. After my morning exercises, Kid asked if I would like to train after he got out of class at the end of the day, and I simply couldn't refuse the offer. I need the extra practice.
I choose not to complain. I'm not one to whine; however, if I keep this up, I'm sure I'll pass out from a heat stroke right here on the grass.
    "You're not going to stop now, are you?" Kid calls from the shade of a nearby tree.
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Opinion by blackpanther666 posted over a year ago
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I have had the opportunity to read many books in my lifetime, many of which have changed my perspective on life and have also influenced my own writing to a certain degree. As of 2013, my favorite authors are as follows:

L.E.Modesitt Jr
Anne McCaffrey
J.R.R Tolkien
Terry Brooks
Stephen King
Dean Koontz
George Orwell

Here are some of the books that have changed my perspective on life.

The first is the absolute first book I read from L.E.Modesitt Jr, which is called The Magic Engineer. I loved this book, because it surpassed my expectations of what a typical fantasy book should be like... Instead of the typical good vs evil scenario, this book deals how opinions and deeds conflict and cause fighting, and outlay how it has nothing to do with good and evil, but rather it shows that conflicting opinions and regimes are what causing fighting and wars.
In this book, the main character, Dorrin, is skilled in using Order magic, the magic which fuels life and keeps a structure to everything, even the air that they breathe and the cells of plants. Because, however, he is untrained and can't...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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✓ A Fact-Fiction by Death the Kid's Wife

I wake up to a swirling world. The room spins around me in a circle, and there's a massive pounding in my head. It kind of freaks me out. I don't like hearing the blood rushing around in my skull. It's not very comforting. My right arm feels like it's on fire, but I can tell that it's bandaged up, and bandaged well too. Some voices emanate just outside the door. It's bright. The sunlight leaks through the orange curtains, and I feel strangely at peace despite the circumstances. I wonder how long I've been out. I hope it hasn't been too long. I look around the room. It's tidy and very neat. The posters on the walls are cute and inviting with little chibi characters plastered all over them.
The door is slightly cracked. I hear voices, and they don't sound too happy. There's a silhouette of a person just outside the door, but I can't make out who it is. Then, after my ears calm the pounding in my brain, I recognize who's talking. It's Kid, a stranger, and Sid - the zombie man that came to our rescue in the supermarket. The stranger sounds stern but also a little silly. His voice is very high-pitched. I wonder who it...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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"Please, come inside," the teacher bids. "Take a seat and make yourself comfortable." The teacher is an old woman. Very old. Time has made its mark on her face, but she continues to do her part as one of the school faculty.
A short, beautiful woman steps through the door of the classroom, and she takes a lounging seat at one of the round tables. Her colorful eyes don't wander. She stays still and awaits what the teacher has to say regarding her daughter's behavior.
"As you may know," the older woman begins, "your daughter is very advanced. Her reading scores are exemplary, and her grades are off the charts. She's not in any trouble whatsoever."
The younger woman nods as if she's an experienced pastor hearing the Word of God for the nth time. "Yes, I know she's very bright. She's always been that way, even when she was little."
"And I do not doubt that," the teacher replies, sitting down at the table alongside her to rest her weary legs. "But there are a few things that I would like to bring to attention. The reason I called this meeting is because your daughter... How shall I put this? Your daughter is very...far gone....
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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“Life is for the living.
Death is for the dead.
Let life be like music.
And death a note unsaid.”
~ Langston Hughes, The Collected Poems

If, upon the unfortunate event, I am to die
Let me lie in a sun-filled graveyard
Where I may share forevermore my darling
My legend, my song, my virtues

If, upon the unfortunate event, I am to leave
Do not weep for my empty seat, my empty bed
For we shall meet again my love
And honesty shall remain to take my place

If, upon the unfortunate event, I am to bleed
Let my blood be spilt for a reason
Let my life be taken so that one may live
Keep my eternal song and nurture it

If, upon the unfortunate event, I am to go home
Do not let me be forgotten
For it is of no consequence to you
To remember I who have passed

Let me die with crimson
To wash over my guilt, my sins
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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✓ A Fact-Fiction by Death the Kid's Wife

The bond Kid and I have established has kept me up all night. All through the late hours, I lay in my bed with only my thoughts and the soothing sound of my sister's snoring to keep me company. Ever since the incident in the sparring room, I've been feeling strangely different, especially around Kid. It's like every time I'm close to him, an electric charge courses through my veins and awakens the slumbering desire within me. I don't know what I'm yearning for exactly. All I know is that it has something to do with Kid. However, the yearning for whatever I am seeking is strong and cannot be ignored.
Before I know it, my alarm clock sounds and I force myself out of my bed. My sister and I cannot keep Kid waiting. I already promised myself that I will not let him down. I get ready, rousing my sister, and we eat breakfast together with the occasional banal comment thrown in to keep ourselves objective.
We're out the door at a decent amount of time, and it doesn't take us long to reach the Academy. Adrienne and I walk into the sparring room together, and I'm not surprised to see that no one is here. "Where's...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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✓ A Fact-Fiction by Death the Kid's Wife

“Hello, are you a new student?” the woman at the front office asks me.
    “Oh no,” I correct, “I’m just a temporary visitor. I think my name should be in the system, though.”
    “I see. Let me check the database.” She clicks on a few tabs with her mouse and pushes a few buttons here and there before she asks, “And what’s your full name?”
    “My name is Jordan Lunette,” I answer. My last name has always been something significant to me. Lunette derives from the moon. I’ve always regarded the moon as an elusive and mysterious mass. It has a bright side, and it has a dark side. It pulls and pushes the tides of the earth, choreographing the ocean like a skilled conductor, never having to do any more than it has for years and years long passed. It religiously sticks to one routine. In a way, I’m glad that life hasn’t taken to the same mode of schedule. Change is what makes the world grow. Change is what makes the world adventurous.
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Fan fiction by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it, a great Chinese teacher once said. Aesthetics have always been a part of the world - a part of the universe as a whole in its entirety. Beauty has always existed. Famous philosophers of older times were able to see such aesthetics, but as time wears on, people lose touch.
It is tragic to say that as each generation is lost, so are their abilities to see true beauty. They dwindle away like a weary flame. Truly tragic. However, I'm not so quick to lose this dexterity. You see, there is only one key component that plays a part in true beauty, and that is symmetry. As long as there is equality to every concept, then the universe is completely at peace. Unfortunately, I'm the only one that seems to understand that.
"Come now, Kiddo," my father placates. "There has to be at least one of these weapons that you're interested in. Show him the pictures again, Spirit."
At this request, one of my dad's Death Scythes, Spirit, spreads several obnoxious photos out in his hands for my observation. All of the girls - each and every one of them - appear to be posing for the camera in a very expressive way. I see a blonde...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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✓ A Fact-Fiction by Death the Kid's Wife

My alarm clock goes off at 6AM, and I groan in despair. I may be a budding meister, but if there’s anything that I can’t stand, it’s the mandatory strength that waking up demands of my body. I love sleep. I yawn and shake my sister awake. “Adrienne, get up. We need to meet Kid at the DWMA in an hour.”
    “No,” my sister moans, turning over on her side. She’s always one to sleep in, my sister. I can’t budge her from her bed, and there have been instances in which I’ve tried to wake her up but ended up getting punched in the face instead.
    I roll my eyes and turn on the heater. “Suit yourself. If you’re late on your first day at the Academy, it’s your fault. Not mine.” I look for my normal, everyday outfit, but it’s nowhere to be found. I must have washed it last night. This day is already turning out to be frustrating. I open the door as loudly as I can and walk outside down the hall. I hope that wakes my sister. As I turn the corner and enter the living room, I freeze. Frozen with shock, I can’t move. I can feel the blood rush up to...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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✓ A Fact-Fiction by Death the Kid's Wife

My future has always occurred to me as unknown – a blank piece of paper with nothing to be found on either side of the sheet. I have always tried to be strong. I have always tried to be brave, and I most certainly have always tried to be the best I can possibly be in this world, but is that enough? Is that enough to uncover the clandestine fragment – the one jagged piece missing in the puzzle?
What is to become of me? What am I destined to be in this world? What is my purpose? Why am I here? These questions rattle around in my brain, unhinged and unyielding. But I hope that today is the day that all of the questions – all of my uncertainties – are finally taken care of and answered once and for all.
The sun beats down on my tiny form as the platform beneath my feet slowly inches me up through the cylinder tube and into the wide expanse of the golden arena. The sky is amazingly blue – so very, very blue. The clouds lazily drift along, at ease with their own fluffy selves. I look up at the sun. It hasn’t changed since this morning: hyperventilating and greedily gobbling up whatever is in the...
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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*Note* This is a true story. Everything in this article is true, and if you're a friend of mine, you should be able to accept my past and who I am today. If not, then that's that. Get your fake ass off my club.

A long time ago, in 2009... I joined Fanpop for the first time.
Back then, there was a main chat that everyone could log into, and everyone could talk in one chat room at the same time. I thought it was interesting, so I decided to enter the chat. I entered multiple times, but nobody ever cared to talk to me, and whenever I'd say something, people would ignore me.
I don't have any friends. Well, I didn't have friends back then either. I haven't had friends since fifth grade. And so it hurt to be ignored in real life AND online. It hurt a lot.
Well... While I was in the main chat, I noticed that everyone talked to the boys consistently. I was jealous that they got so much attention...so I made a fake account. I posed as a boy in order to gain friends and to gain popularity with people.
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Fan fiction by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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Excalibur
The DWMA - a school for the most skilled meisters in all of the country. It is said that there is a lot of history that has to do with the renowned Academy. Its headmaster, Lord Death, has plenty of history all on his own.
From the corridors, to the classrooms, to the library filled with books upon books of knowledge, wisdom, and overall history of this great school.
One student makes his way through the labyrinth of novels, Arthur Kirkland (otherwise known as 'Iggy'). The British meister sports an olive-green tuxedo and appears before his fellow classmates in a military-like fashion.
His blond hair gleams in the sunlight as he passes from shadow to shadow, striding confidently along the shelves and casting his gaze from novel to novel with little interest.
"These books look so boring and aged... No wonder they have so much dust on them," he mutters to himself with his English dialect and rounds a corner.
The books hold no grandeur value in his eyes. He's about to leave when he spots one cream-colored book sitting alone on a table. "What's this?"
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Article by TheDirector posted over a year ago
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This is an article I have written for my sister, Adrienne. It's for her amusement.

The room is bright. Too bright. It's so bright that it seems bleached. Greyson Chance knows this.
"Too bright... Too bright! I'm blind!" He closes the shutters in his room and spins around in his desk chair. "Wee!"
There's a knock on the door, and he quickly composes himself with a small smile and a quick nod. "Come in."
It's his mother. She walk-skips into the room with a broad grin on her face.
"Greyson, I have great news! You're invited!"
"Invited?" He raises an eyebrow, still smiling but quizzically now.
"Yes! You know that big party hosted by MTV in Los Angeles? You got invited! All the greatest stars are going to be there: Jay-Z, Flo Rida, Nicki Minaj, and even a few television shows like The Big Bang Theory and The Springs!"
"The Springs? That means Adrienne's going! Book a table for me please. I'll be there. When is it?" He takes a quick draught of his water bottle.
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