t11baf

July 13th 1970...            The heat of Glass Shard Beach is sweltering. The sun looms over the small area of woods, and beats over Stanley Pines and Carla McCorkle as she sets her stance up firmly with her guard. Keeping her fists up, she nods at him to do something other than a left hook for once, and his right fist comes close towards her jaw, but he wouldn't hit her unless she explicitly said to. The shot is sloppy because of his weather-induced haze, and she grins happily. He's doing really good. She lunges at him, and her fists batter on his fitter chest but doesn't damage him much at all. He chuckles at her efforts, glad to see he's

Prompt: It's Been a Long Time, Hasn't it?      Hudson stood in the deep corridor, fluttering his lids as he tried to adjust in the pitch dark. Light engulfed him from some short distance off, yet no matter how he chased the need like a fool, it receded further away the harder he tried to bask in it.  Some liquid trickled from the cavernous ceiling and echoed as it pelted the floor light as a feather. His ears caught the sound of scuttling feet, and his attention was enraptured already. From the first syllable uttered, Hudson knew the source of whom spoke.            "It's been a long time, huh, Hud?" The voice was

Squeakers walked into the former Little Seeds of Hope Orphanage, an arm bundled with things in it, only to see his best friend, Elizabeth, or as he called her, Elli, hanging Christmas lights from corner to corner. In the summer. "What are you doing up there, Doofus? And why are you hanging Christmas lights in the end of frickin' July?!" He barked, a frown crossing his face as the ex director, Ms. Foster, Elizabeth's adoptive mother entered and upon seeing the boy, her mouth opened in shock. "Don't you have errands to run, Squeakers, Hun?"  "Sorry Charlie, I slain all your 'errands'; drop your act, you two. What are you doing for my birth

Squeakers made it to the Slaton home early that day. He saw the door was shut, and twisted on the knob. Hm. Locked. Shit. And he'd forgotten his keys and the wooden one he'd carved in his room. But then he'd remembered Claire always kept a spare under the welcome mat. Apparently nobody was home. The grand piano stared at him, and as he sat at the bench, the door he'd forgotten to close slammed behind him "Honey, I'm home! D'ya miss me?" Squeakers head snapped, almost immediately recognizing the voice.  "With every bullet so far, Vera. Say, don't you have to go be stupid somewhere else anyways when school's still in?" She huffed, before op

76. Skin - Alphonse Elric I wait at the Gate of Truth for Brother to come. I'm sure he's happy for what I've done to give him back his arm- well, if you'd consider cussing me and beating Father to a pulp 'happy', he would be. And then I see it; my body. My real flesh and blood body. Sprinting my way for the tug of body and soul. We press hands together, so airy and light on his end, mine cool and heavy. I find it odd in classing us as separate individuals when we are the same one. Perhaps I'm irked by the molds of our skin, one real and prickling and so alive compared to motionless and automatic, brittle to the touch. But still, no matter w