Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Okay, so first things first, this article is hilarious. Just follow the link. ^.^ Barbecue Sauce Next, today is the seniors’ last day. Which means I have less than two weeks left of school. And because the seniors are leaving, the lunch line will be shorter!!! (Not that school lunch is really anything that good in the first place, but it is food, and usually at least half edible) FEAR ME!! I AM WRITING AGAIN!!!!!!!! I am re-writing “Without Name” but it’s gonna go under a different title. I’ve changed some major things for the first one, worked out most of my plot bugs, and furthermore, found what I think Nanashi’s “true” personality should be more like. So I think I’ll give you guys a little teaser, because that’s a writer’s privilege and us writer’s love to torment reader’s with stuff like that. So here goes… Seto re-entered the cell a dazed and broken man. He trembled visibly, and was unable to even glance in Nanashi’s direction. He leaned against the cold stone wall for support. Soundless sobs wracked his tall frame as he hung his head in silent shame. “I betrayed Mokuba,” he finally rasped. He looked up, finally catching Nanashi’s gaze. He appeared to have aged decades instead of minutes during his absence. His blue eyes faded into a flat, lifeless gray. “I betrayed my own brother.” The shame of it pressed down on him, causing him to slouch, suffocating him it seemed. He searched Nanashi’s eyes, looking desperately for some kind of reassurance this wasn’t true. She had none to offer him. “I know. I heard.” Compelled by some unknown force, Nanashi got up and walked over to him, setting her hand on his shoulder. “There was nothing you could do.” “That doesn’t change the fact that I did it.” His voice was thick and gravelly, laced with anger directed at himself. Seto Kaiba didn’t cry, but nevertheless he felt tears burning trails down his cheeks. “I know that too.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Seto saw the pain etched clearly in her face. He suddenly understood what her life was like, to be the one carrying the guilt of all those murders, even if the guilt was misplaced; she hadn’t known, had no way of knowing it was wrong. And so she still hated herself for it, to the point of fearing herself and what she could do. And there I shall leave you. Probably leave you for about half a year, until I manage to even work up to that point in the story. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Writer’s are evil. Later, Nanashi

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