| I am a writer who doesn't post much here, because it's a pain to upload stories here. Most of the things I've written recently are Transformers fics, but evey now and then I write something original or something for the Yoroiden Samurai Troopers fandom, so...Yeah. Enjoy! |
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ParallelParallel By Unforgettable-fireParallel
par·al·lel -noun something identical or similar in essential respects; match; counterpart.
-
“Put them in different cells-”
“-Far away from each other-”
“-So they can’t talk to each other-”
“-Or see each other-”
“-Or know what’s happening to each other-”
“Yeah, that!”
“Because…”
“…It’ll drive them crazy!”
-
It had seemed like a
by ~Unforgettable-Fire
Learning to FlyWordsLearning to Fly
Swoop didn’t understand the importance of words.
Grimlock tried to teach him, nudging with his metal muzzle, coaxing in his own way. “You Swoop talk.” Another nudge; Grimlock only wanted what was best for his tribe. “Open mouth, words come out. Is easy.”
Swoop shrugged, slender shoulders rising. He didn’t understand why Grimlock was so insistent he talk. He preferred to let his body do the talking; the way he carried himself, the occasional gentle touches…They said more than mere words ever could.
Swoop didn’t understand the importance of words,
by ~Unforgettable-Fire
First ImpressionsEverything was so noisy.First Impressions
Ryo glanced up, taking in the bright sky overhead and the office buildings stretching to reach the endless blue and trying to ignore the buzz of the traffic speeding by. Though he’d been in the living city for several years while attending high school, he was still having difficulties with becoming urbanized and always felt a bit uncomfortable being swallowed by a sea of iron girders and concrete.
Touma was a step or two behind him, popping M&Ms in his mouth and rambling about what he wanted to see first at the museum. He was beginning to grow impatient; they’d only been waiting fo
by ~Unforgettable-Fire
Full CircleRain; rain; rain.Full Circle
It spoiled everything.
Michel rolled over, staring out the window and watching the rain run in rivulets down the pane. Some of the droplets paraded across the glass and some seemed to dance erratically, rhythmic and swirling and all the things that made fine dancing. He wondered what ballet they performed, wondered at the music he conjured in his head. Wondered if he was their only audience.
As a small child, Michel had always been enthralled by the water carnival on the windows. His mother had been set against his playing in the rain, for the most part, and he had played about the win
by ~Unforgettable-Fire
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...And looking back, it really wasn't that good. It was too rushed and not very realistic. If I ever did anything with it again, it would probably include a rewrite.
--
Earth, sky, sea and rain; is she coming back again?
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