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Flight's Story: 1 of 10
Part One: Fearsome Future
There was a white duck standing in the doorway. The light behind him from the other room made it look like he was glowing. The green leather trench coat he wore swayed in a breeze lightly, though there was no wind in the room. He stood in front of the Fearsome Five with no fear. He knew what they were capable of, and it wasn't near what he was able to do. He then smiled to himself as Negaduck finally spoke.
"Who are you, How did you find my secret headquarters, and give me one reason I don't KILL you now." asked Negaduck as he walked up to the intruder. The yellow suited duck already had a sizable bazooka pointed at the stranger.
"My name is Flight, I'm from the future where everyone knows where the infamous Negaduck's hideout was, and I know how to get you all the..." As Flight said the next two words dramatic music played in the background. "*Ultimate Power*" The Fearsome, except Negaduck, looked around to where that music came from. Flight
A Glitch in Time: Chapter 6
Optimus noticed backup flying above him as his team rushed back to the shuttle. Ratchet was giving 'cover fire' by pushing the attacking bots into each other with his magnets. From above small Autobot stealth ships fired on the Elite bots.
"Looks like Cheetor blabbed to Goldbug," Ratchet stated. His tone was neither annoyed nor happy to see the help.
"Thank Primus," replied Optimus now glad there secret meeting with Ultra Jazzimus was found out. He then turned to face the fighting. Optimus made his axe handle extend longer before going into the fight. Prowl was right behind him throwing his ninja stars at the Elite soldiers closest to him. His attacks were precise. The blades landed right in the middle of the two bot's chests. They wouldn't damage their sparks, but effectively knock them unconscious.
Optimus fought the next soldiers to come their way. Prowl took the moment to look up and see what Jazzimus was doing. The Ultra bot was ordering some soldiers towards the
Without You: Part 3 of ????~Help me if you can
It's just that this, this is not the way I'm wired~
Quickstrike's processors compared it to the bubble wrap Vishal had first shown him two summers ago. However, He was not popping Vishal's yellow plates back in with the same force used then. Instead the insect bot gently rubbed each plate one at a time, til the tan skin under it became pliable and allowed it to sink back in.
If Strike had not been worried about Vishal's health he would of curiously watched how it worked. The armor literally liquidated through porous shirt the boy was wearing, and returned to his skin. He held Vishal still, not dare moving him from the fire escape. Quickstrike wanted to make sure the boy's breathing was regular before moving him again. Vishal's breathing had become stronger as Strike started to massage in the chest plating.
"Vish? Notch? Can you hear me?" Quickstrike tried to arouse words from his friend. He had no clue where their base was, or if he could leave the boy at a human ho
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More