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myOtaku.com
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Birthday
• 1988-03-15
Gender
•
Male
Location
• in a small room, with a bed and computer, rocking back and forth in my chair, 'must be the best.'
Member Since
• 2003-10-21
Occupation
• student
Real Name
• sam, so now i guess you think you know me, do you. well yep you do thats all ther is to know.
Personal
Achievements
• writing first book (still writing it)
Anime Fan Since
• anime is that what they call it.
Favorite Anime
• dunno, ninja scroll, trigun, outlaw star, vampire unter D, you know the usual.
Goals
• to some day escape from this room and actually meet people.
Hobbies
• i loove listening to music and doing other stuff, i.e surfing, writing, drawing.
Talents
• its pretty hard being me it takes a supremely talented person. (head swells up) what can i say im just gifted.(floating now) most people will pay me a fortune just to be seen with me.(there i go off into space somewhere)-_-#
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Wednesday, May 19, 2004
This is the second part to my story.
An arrow cut trough the air and the silence was released from the night by the 'twang' of a bow. The archer drifted back into the shadows as sharply as he had left them. The samurai turned a sharp sidestep back. As the 'whir' of the arrow sped past him. His hands already gripping the hilt of Naryusha. A cry of shrill excitement, obliterated the nights strange, tranquility. A group of bandits wearing brown and black cloaks, stood on the range. From the slits of their eyes, silver mad iris's peered out. These were a fierce race of men, called 'faurls' and they were the sole purpose, to most of the regions prolems, they are vicous and cold. Often associated with thievery and torture.
At least five to six of them stood now queit on the ranges top. Their beading, silver flicks, darted over the samurai, assessing their prey. A moment os stillness followed. Then three of them began to run down the slope, the rocks and dust scattering, as if running in fear. The three men carried sabers, while two of the three remaining, on the range carried a whip and short sword each, the last a Bo-staff.
The three circled the samurai, while taunting and mocking him. They laughed like jackals, wild and rabid, continuosly juggling the swords from hand to hand. The samurai remained still, he seemed to be ignoring the three jackals as he stared up at the man with the Bo-staff. The mans arms were crossed, as he watched his 'jackals' dancing.
Suddenly one of the jackals, raised his saber, releasing a high pitched scream. He hurtled forward though his sudden, advancement was cut short by Naryusha. The blade splitting him open across the abdomen, the cut ran deep, the man collapsed, a dark puddle formed at the wound, seeping onto the ground. Naryusha hung, by the samurais side, a trickle of blood ran its length, its thirst reawakened.
The mans last departing breath released his soul, it rose, invisible to the naked eye, but not competely. You could still sense the cold stale trace, it left in the air. A vibrant humming filled the air, like the humming made by not just one be but a hundred bee's. The talsiman vibrated, radiating a hue blue, its thirst to, had been reawakened. Startled and highly optimistic about what they should do. The two men leapt at the samurai.
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