ADISC - Stories in Progress http://www.adisc.org/forum/ Work on your stories and get comments here. en Fri, 20 Nov 2009 22:39:36 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.adisc.org/forum/images/misc/rss.jpg ADISC - Stories in Progress http://www.adisc.org/forum/ American Idiot (working title) TV-14 DLV http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16720-american-idiot-working-title-tv-14-dlv.html Fri, 20 Nov 2009 05:58:34 GMT A while ago I was looking for a topic to write a new story and Green Day's American Idiot came to mind. I know it's been made into a stage play I just wanted to try this and see what I came up with. I just listened to the record and tried to wrote what I thought it all ment and this is what I have so far, please read and tell me if you think the same or think something compleatly different.

American Idiot

American Idiot
A nation under an idiot leader controled by the media. America hates fags and is ran by red necks. Country is ran by propaganda which is driving it's citizans to extream paranoya.

Jesus of Suburbia
A boy with a father full of rage and a mother full of love. Boy doesn't feel loved so he searches for answers thriving on soda and ritalin. Falling in love and in debt he looks to alcohol cigarettes and pot. Living in his own world of make believe were no one belives in him. Meeting up with his friends at the local 7-11 were he has learned all of his life leasons he reads the writing on the walls as if they were holy scripters with the answers to his questions. Studing the walls he sets his eyes on this:

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave
We are the kids of war and peace
From Anaheim to the middle east
We are the stories and disciples
Of the Jesus of suburbia

Takeing a rusty razor he cuts his hand and leaves a bloody handprint on the wall as to leave a signature. Taking that as his new name he packs up his things and leaves the town for which he has no feeling for off to find the answers to his questions.

Holiday
Leaving his small town behind he soon finds himself in a big city of which he finds impressive for being in a small town all his life. Walking around the city taking in all the sights and doing some partying alone the way he finds himself at a rally and comes face to face with what America is really as oposed to what he learned in his small town. Joining in the croud he looks at the stage above him.

Sieg Heil to the president Gasman
Bombs away is your punishment
Pulverize the Eiffel towers
Who criticize your government
Bang bang goes the broken glass and
Kill all the fags that don't agree
Trials by fire, setting fire
Is not a way that's meant for me
Just cause, just cause, because we're outlaws yeah!

The boy decides to follow this groups teachings in hopes that he may find the true amongst the hollow lies.

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams
After a night of partying the boy finds himself alone in a dark ally and continues his journey to find true and his sence of perpuse in the world. Believing that no one loves him he thinks to himself.

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

Are We The Waiting?
One night sitting on a hill the boy looks up to the sky and wonders if he will ever find what he is looking for. With a heart of pain and sorrow he looks up at the Heavans for answers, watching the stars as they shoot through the sky he things to himself.

"What the fuck am I doing? The Jesus of Suburbia was a lie."

Feeling the anger rage inside of him he cries out to the city.

"It was a lie! It was a fucking lie!"

Angerly he pounds the dirt then tired and face down in the dirt he says to himself.

"Rage and love, the story of my life."

He opened up his last bottle of booze taking long heavy drinks thinking of all that has happend to him in the last few days and the past out shortly after finishing the bottle.

St. Jimmy
"Hey! Get the fuck up!"

The boy awakes to see a figure standing infrount of him, once his eyes adjusted to the light he see's it's a guy of about 17 wearing dark blue jeans, combat boots and a black shirt with the sleeves torn off.

"Who the hell are you?"

The guy smiled and said
"You can call me St. Jimmy, I run an gang called the "Forty Thieves" and your in our taratory shithead."

"I don't give a fuck who you are your nothing compared to me."

"Is that a fact?"

Jimmy lunged at the boy and started to beat the hell out of him. After several minutes of pounding the boy's face into the dirt Jimmy gets up and looks at the boy smiling.

I really hate to say it but I told you so
So shut your mouth before I shoot you down ol' boy
Welcome to the club and give me some blood
And the resident leader at the lost and found.

Give Me Novacaine
Knocked out by Jimmy the boy dreams of back home and sense of his childhood run thought his mind like an old movie real, including the first time he laied his eyes on the holy writing on the wall at the local 7/11 and the first time he lit up a joint, letting the embrace of the smoke take over him and for that moment nothing else mattered, not the broken home, not his continues battle to servive, nothing. He had found peace for the first time since he last saw his father all those years ago. Waking up several hours later he wakes up on the side of the road just like he had been after the beating. He continued to walk on his path to try and find the answers.

Drain the pressure from the swelling
the sensation's overwhelming
Gvie me a long kiss goodnight
and everything will be alright
TEll me what I won't feel a thing
So give me novacaine

She's a Rebel
As he walked he thought back to his childhood and a real bitch he had to put up with. A perfect saint to all the adults but when the weren't around you better watch your ass. Unforchentaly for him as time went on she started to take a shine to him. Always following him around, always right there ready with a fresh new insault or a bag of fire ants to dump on him. He could never figure her out until that one day when he realized "She's just like me..."

Extraordinary Girl
On the surface we were two very different people but unterneather all that we were the same; two nobodies wanting to belong in this world and have someone who cared about our existance. We both spent our nights crying ourselfs to sleep. That all changed one day at school. We ended up running into eachother and something fell out of her note book, a note. I quicly picked it up and stashed it in my pocket and read it during class. I confrounted her later at lunch.

"Is this really the way you feel?" I asked her all she did was look at me with a blank stair and then nod her head. I sat across from her and started to tell her everything I had been going through and that's when she got the message; We were the same and eventually fell in love.

Letter Bomb
Nobody likes you, everyone left you, their all out without you having fun.
After a few months the relationship failed and she ended up leaving me a note saying it wasn't going to work out and that she needed to leave this town and find her own path.

Wake Me Up When September Ends
Continueing on his path he remebers his father and how he died on an oil refinery fire when he was only 10 and the hardships he had to face with going through his early teens without a father figure in his life.

Homecoming
Boy comes to terms with what has happend to him on his journey and what has happend in his life and decides to return home to try and set things right but once he returns home he finds a newspaper with the headline reading:

THE DEATH OF ST. JIMMY

The boy is happy to see that Jimmy finaly got what's coming to him but is soomewhat sadded at the fact that he feels they shared a commen goal, to find out who you are and where you fit into the world.

East 12th St
Nobody Likes You!
Rock and Roll Girlfriend
Where coming home again

Whatshername
Remebering his first love. ]]> Stories in Progress Takashi http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16720-american-idiot-working-title-tv-14-dlv.html <![CDATA[This is who I have become... [PG/13]]]> http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16660-who-i-have-become-pg-13-a.html Tue, 17 Nov 2009 22:19:25 GMT [This story is fiction based on true events that have happened in my life. I don't want to continue unless people think this has some potential and hey even give me ideas to make it better. I also want to add there is more than just what it seems going on here]


My name is Nicholas and I am a seventeen year old student from a small midwestern town. Some people look at me and just see your normal A & B honor roll student since grade school. I've never done drugs and I guess you could call me the perfect son. Though why would anyone want to hear about that? Doesn't really make for a good story now I know that, but there is definatly more under the surface.

“That's it! I'm fed up with you constantly pissing yourself every night!” I'm ten years old, and I've honestly heard this for the upteenth billionth time, and honestly I know just how to react to it. I quiver my lips a little bit and look down like I'm ashamed and say with a really small voice.

“I'm sorry.” It works every time, my dad backs off tells me to stop drinking at about 6 rags on me for a week about it and then we continue the cycle. This time something was wrong.

“Nicky, you are ten years old you should not be having these accidents. At your age I would be ashamed to be caught in a wet bed every morning.” That was my step mom, she may seem kind and caring right now but she's ultimately my least favorite person in the world. Her son, he can't do any wrong in the world. Especially since he's five years old and hasn't had an accident for two years while I go at least 6 nights a week peeing all over myself. I get ragged at so much for that fact.

“Nick we need to do something about this we can't be constantly washing your sheets and having you make the house smell like ammonia.”

“But... at least they are clean when I go to bed!” I tried arguing, thinking hey each night I have clean sheets I can't get sick.

“You can't be sleeping in your own piss Nick!” My dad was angry, I honestly had never seen him so angry in all my life. His entire body stood up in front of me glaring down. He was six foot three his blonde buzzcut made him look like a general. His blue eyes were crossed in anger and I could literally see how fast his heart was beating by watching the veins burst from out of his skin.

“You are going to get really sick one of these days sleeping in your urine. Your little brother can't sleep because he wakes up in the night smelling the ammonia from your piss! Then Marissa has to wake up at some random ass hour in the night to try and calm him down and make the room smell a little bit better so he can sleep, because honestly there is no way we are going to come up to you and pull you out of your bed half asleep trying to get you out of your pissy clothes and change you into some clean ones because then we'd be covered in your piss you're ten years old damnit!”

That entire time all I could see was his face right up against mine, I could feel the heat coming from each exhale. Spit flew from his mouth and into my eyes, he was angry. I felt so childlish so small, no so infantile standing looking up at him because he looked like he was on the verge of beating me with a belt, I honestly realized that this time he wasn't playing around. I felt that if he wanted to he could have held me in the air with his left hand and spanked me with his right.

“Now James please relax, even though he's been doing this all his life it is still an accident. Accidents happen babe, but there are way to prevent accidents.” I sat down on the floor looking at them both wondering what she meant by “there are ways to prevent accidents.” She walked over to me from where she was sitting in the living room and lowered herself to my height. Some may say she's pretty but she is all hick. She wears boots, flannel shirts, and bootcut jeans and has her hair in a ponytail pushed through a john deere trucker hat. “Remember that conversation I had with you a few months ago?” I really was starting to not like where this was going.

“Well Nick I know we said we'd try to keep you from being embarrased in from of Will but you have not improved one bit. So me and your dad have decided we are going to start making you wear diapers to bed.” It happened I actually felt tears come to my eyes I couldn't stop them I started bawling.

“But I'm... I'm... te-ten years old!” My dad then stood up over me looked down pulled me up and said straight to my face first without any emotion and then instantly ignited into a fit of rage.

“Then you shouldn't be... PISSING... YOUR.... BED... LIKE... A TWO... YEAR... OLD!” ]]> Stories in Progress Smileboxcarbaby http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16660-who-i-have-become-pg-13-a.html <![CDATA[Beware of Spam! [Title may change]]]> http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16618-beware-spam-title-may-change.html Mon, 16 Nov 2009 02:43:21 GMT First attempt at this kind of story, if only just. Title will hopefully make more sense later on. Right now I only have the prologue finished, so... First attempt at this kind of story, if only just. Title will hopefully make more sense later on. Right now I only have the prologue finished, so tell me if you would like for this to continue or not.
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Prologue

It had all started with a rumor.

Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. It had official started because of one person: Catherine Gordon, also known as Cathy or Catti to her friends. Cathy was the resident “popular girl” at her high school, the girl that every guy would love to have and every girl would kill to be. They way she walked down the halls, her red hair bouncing behind her with every step as if to tempt anyone in sight. She was the best thing in this school, and everyone knew it, including herself.

Another thing that was common knowledge was that Cathy was the school’s…uh how can I put this delicately…resident “call-girl”. You see someone; chances are she’s slept with them. That jock in gym trying to work on his biceps every period? Slept with. The student council president? Yep. Even that nerdy and sweaty guy who could calculate pie to a millionth place off the top of his head? Surprisingly, even he got a chance at the booty. It had even been said that she had started to sleep with some of the female students, the non-lesbian ones!

But it wasn’t till the start of her senior year, that things started to get strange. Stranger than usual. Now, Cathy wasn’t one for schoolwork. She would maybe spend about 15 minutes tops on an assignment or paper, then hand in whatever she had. You wanna know what she got on a 1500 word essay paper, despite the fact that she turned in not even a page of writing?

A+. No joke. Not only on that, but on everything she ever worked on! Papers, tests, even on an assignment that looked like it had been made by a 3rd grader! Every single one of them would have a bright red A+ staring back at her when she got it back. Everyone was shocked, to say the least. There were many theories to where these magical A+’s were coming from. Some thought that maybe her father, who was the stereotypical millionaire tycoon with a spoiled princess, had bribed the school, paying them a large sum of money to ensure that his daughter would always get straight A’s. An opposite theory to that was that she had somehow discovered some dirt on the school board, and had threatened to reveal it if they didn’t follow her demands. One more radical theory was that Cathy was a space alien from mars, and that she’d brainwashed the teachers into give her great marks!

Yeah…no one listened to the resident alien nut job. Whatever the reason, Cathy continued to get perfect marks straight through the first semester. When the second semester rolled around though, things suddenly changed. Why is this you ask?

Catti suddenly disappeared. One day she just, POOF, up and vanished into thin air. Her parents were panicked beyond belief. They called in everyone: police, FBI, National Guard, everyone you could possibly think of! Neighbors were questioned, schoolmates, even Catti’s ex-boyfriends (and believe me, that alone was a long list.). All they ever found out was the same story: she had left home one day and hadn’t been seen since. A nationwide search began, lasting for over a month. Her father did everything he could think of, even posting a reward of a half-million dollars for her safe return! But, nothing turned up. No body, no evidence, not even a call from kidnappers. It was like she had just…vanished off the face of the earth.

Then, about halfway through the second semester, several senior girls started to disappear. They just didn’t come to school one day, didn’t answer their phones or even reply to their MSN or Facebook! When one asked either their parents or the authorities, they always got the same BS of “School Transfer”, “Wasn’t feeling well” or “Had moved.” For some, that last one was true. Some families did just suddenly get up and move away, without any explanation or reason.

THAT was when the rumors had started. One such story was that the person who had kidnapped Cathy was still at large and hunting more girls, while another said that it was some kind of government epidemic, while both said that the police were obviously hiding information to avoid a mass panic. Whatever the case, girls continued to disappear at a steady rate. At least half the student body were freaked out of their minds, claiming that they were next. One girl had even went as far as to commit suicide, saying in her final letter that “She couldn’t take it any more” that “They were coming for her” and “They’ll never get me!!”.

But a few still lived like they didn’t have a care in the world. One of these girls was Samantha Cougar, Sammy for short. She was the head of the Cheerleading squad and had been the second prettiest girl in school next to Cathy. With Cathy gone though, she had taking no time in usurping the throne of popularity in her school. At the moment, all she had to worry about was the upcoming cheerleader, not some random thing as girls disappearing. Less competition for her anyway.

As she made her way to the football field for practice, Sammy had no idea what was about to befall her. For soon, very soon, Sammy would follow in her schoolmates fates.

As the next victim. ]]> Stories in Progress Flipside4 http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16618-beware-spam-title-may-change.html Reprimands... http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16573-reprimands.html Fri, 13 Nov 2009 23:23:47 GMT This Is A Story I'm Writing At School In My Spare Time. It's About An FBI Agent Who's Kindof Like Me... Each Chapter Will Be The Size Of 1 - 2x A4 Sheet Of Paper, Lined. Anyway, Enough Rambling... Here's The First Chapter.

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[1]

As I looked up at the desk, I tried to remember why I was here, under a desk. Under my desk, actually. I needed some rest, so I headed back to my office… I don’t remember what I was doing before that, when I got to my office, I went to sleep under the desk, as usual. I climbed out from under the desk, picking up and holstering my Glock 23 as I did so. I grabbed my jacket from my chair, and put it on, as I walked to the door. I stopped just by it, and listened to the conversation two men on the other side of the door were having.

“Is the floor clear yet?”

“Yeah, other than this room.”

“You start clearing the next floor. I’ll finish this one.”

I moved to one side of the door and un-holstered my Glock 23. I held my breath as the door opened and an armed man walked in, and up to my desk. I crept up behind him, and smacked him on the back of the neck with the butt of my Glock 23 - hard. He fell onto my desk, dropping his UMP .45. I stuck him under the desk, and holstered my Glock 23, and grabbed his UMP. I left the room, and walked down the hall.

I stopped dead in my tracks, Alexandr was on the floor in a puddle of blood. It can’t be. Alexandr can’t be dead, he can’t be, it’s just not possible. He taught me everything, he was my partner for 10 years. I’ll get them for this. I’ll kill them all. I shall never forgive, and I shall never forget. I swear it. They will pay.

I stood up, and walked down the hall to the stairs. I walked out the door, and down a flight of stairs onto an execution. Without a second thought, I sprayed the two executioners with the UMP. They dropped like stones. I walked down the stairs to the FBI Agent and threw the UMP at him.

“Get out of here! Now!”

He nodded, and ran down the stairs, while I turned and walked up the stairs. I’ll clear the building from top to bottom, then I’ll hunt down their leaders, and kill them too. It will be my revenge. I un-holstered my Glock 23 as I went, then there was shouting, I froze. A shot rang out, followed by silence. I stood still for a second, before walking on.

I walked through the door on the sixth floor, and headed down the hallway. I noticed a shadow at the corner, so I jumped round, and yelled,

“Freeze! Federal Agent! I’m armed!”

He spun around and fired a few shots at me, and I returned the favour with a 9mm hollow point to his neck from the Glock 23. I walked up to him, and picked up his P90, holstering my Glock to do so. I walked away, leaving him to bleed out. I headed to the Assistant Directors office, and looked through the keyhole, counting about 5 men, I decided on my actions… ]]> Stories in Progress Laram http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16573-reprimands.html This Broken Hearted Lover’s Nightmare http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16502-broken-hearted-lover-s-nightmare.html Tue, 10 Nov 2009 15:41:04 GMT -Angered Soul- 2/29/09 “This Broken Hearted Lover’s Nightmare” By: Lorent K. Akagi Stay Away! Never mind about the things that we shared in the... -Angered Soul-
2/29/09 “This Broken Hearted Lover’s Nightmare” By:
Lorent K. Akagi
Stay Away! Never mind about the things that we shared in the night. Lay it all out for you and for what…for nothing, only to see that you spit it out. So here’s your closure, I hope you think about it every night. The anger hurts me, all was thought to be mine but only tears belong and are found. All that remains, all that was left is now gone. Hope you enjoyed all your time because it will never be right, us never take flight. All this I remember, everywhere we’ve gone, the time we never spent away, it’s all so clear. But I so last, I’m barely here, I wish the disappointment would fade. No more to say, nothing is here, everyone disappeared. Scars of my past lay everywhere and all on the plains of those that became softened with the thought and memory of war. Scars of my past lay silent in daylight and speak their mind to come fall. Worthless answers from friends that aren’t mine, this feeling leaves me all torn up inside. I’m so annoyed by all those words that used to shine in a place I’d once hold so kind and close to my heart. I resisted all that I didn’t want to see; now everything strains me to emptiness and the nothingness that plagues those dark deep places where all that are consumed by lies that shade away from the truth lay. These pictures fall, of you and me, then I realize that this broken life will consume me and turn me to denial that takes the rest of me to suffocate inside. Now I’m walking around with a grudge on my face and anger clenching my fists and clinging to the whole part of my soul.
It feels like I’ve lost everything that I once loved, but time after time our love just turned to hate. I guess all that we tried so hard to keep safe in our minds ended up being corrupted and tainted turning our loving feelings dark from the inside out.
Blasting my music hoping that my ears will shatter and bleed till the rest of them cry and send their merciful words after me with false comfort and empty emotions. All the looks they throw at me, disgusted by their presence let alone the looks. Day dreaming of a nightmare where a rampage is what I’m enveloped in through forced emotions with tearful pity consuming eyes. A dream in my eyes, but it must be a nightmare in theirs. Pace quickens as does thoughts of war come force through the minds of night fall come and start overpowering me. Deceiving my love, I force into the abyss my heart to enter a realm of destruction where I stricken those who challenge me. Suffocating my soul to where the tears fall faster like raindrops in the tropics of a dark forest night. My emotions become stone as I’m shunned by those that had let me go. Only one tried to save my crazed and distempered soul. The one I spent my life with for her sake. Now my strings feel cut like my wrists from that depression filled night but no more numbness arising in my body. You claim it’s not your fault, you say you’re sorry, now you’ve sealed your own tomb, sealed it for another eternity without comfort and silence that was so wanted at the end of the night. You’ll be waiting for the end of the night for the broken hearted lover to come back and unseal the tomb that chained you to yourself with sorrow that speaks its own name. ]]> Stories in Progress BabyLovePoetLorent http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16502-broken-hearted-lover-s-nightmare.html Pursuit for Happiness http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16459-pursuit-happiness.html Sun, 08 Nov 2009 23:16:37 GMT Something new that i've been working on. It's "slightly" different from anything i've done before so i'm hoping to catch some people off guard XP

For those of you that have read Brainwashed, i'm not stopping the story, i'm just dual wielding, if you get what i mean :rolleyes:.

As always, comments, critiques, and general grievances are appreciated.




Prologue

I am a story teller, it's my job. I've preformed this task vigilantly for years. It wasn't until I came across this young boy's journal that i became enraptured with a task - even loosing nights of sleep. I've done my best to retell the events of his life as accuratly as possible. Before you begin to read, i'd like to share with you the first lines of his journal, in hopes that it will help you understand.

Who am I? I wish I knew myself. Chronicled within these pages is my journey;
a journey which has taken lifetimes, yet only moments...and somehow in reverse.
Perhaps you can make more sens of it than I.
-Adrian



Chapter One

A furious clicking filled the room as Adrian's hands flew over the keyboard, effortlessly crafting words and sentences; he hated every minute of it. In his opinion, Shakespeare, although an excellent writer, inspired the most tedious of essays. Or, maybe it only seemed that way because he'd waited until night before it was due to start on the assignment.

"Adrian!"

Adrian swiveled his chair around to face his mother as she opened the door and walked into his room.

"Are you almost done?" She asked, striding over to where he sat.

"N-" He interrupted himself with a yawn. "No. I've got a couple of paragraphs left."

She shook her head. "Maybe you'll finally learn not to procrastinate." Before she turned to leave, she added. "You better get up the first time i call you in the morning."

Sighing, he swiveled his chair back around and resumed typing, jumping as his door slammed shut. An hour later - the clock on his computer showed twelve - he typed the last word and ended the final sentence with a deftly placed period. Wearily, Adrian waited for the pages to print, put them in his bag, and crawled into his bed. Sleep came swiftly and he easily slid into its dark abyss.

It was his room, or at least that's what it looked like. Everything was in its proper place: the bed against the wall, computer desk under the window - but something was wrong. A purple collar? What was that doing on his nightstand? He walked over to it. Reaching down, he felt the nylon brush against his fingertips.

"Adrian!"

The call pierced his dream and he woke with a start, his head felt as though it'd been kicked repeatedly during the night - a common occurrence since he'd begun the I.B. program at school. Adrian rolled out of bed and stumbled through the darkness of his room. Light blinded him when he opened the door.

"No computer for a week." Adrian's mother said. She'd waited for him to come to the door, it seemed, to deal out punishment. "I had to call you three times. Go get ready for school before I make you walk, I've got to be at work in an hour."

"Yes, ma'am" Adrian responded, holding his hands out in front of himself to feel his way down the hall to the bathroom.

He let the water flow, starting from his face, all the way down to his toes. As he stood, he reflected on the past few years. It was though he was constantly on his mothers bad side, and he didn't know why. It started when he began high school, three years ago. It was his grades, he thought. They weren't perfect, but he was trying. He hated the way their relationship was now - not that they'd been terribly close before. Fall had just set in and a cool nip in the air had become prominent. Adrian felt this nip and yelped in surprise when he shut the water off and stepped out of the protective steam that filled the bathroom. He strode to his room and quickly threw on his attire for the day: a pair of blue jeans, white tee-shirt, and a jacket that proudly bore the Georgia Bulldogs insignia, from when his mother used to take him to the home games on fall evenings, but that was a long time ago.

The sunlight had begun to penetrate his room and it was by that light that he walked to his nightstand to retrieve his watch. He froze when a familiar feeling brushed against his skin. His eyes caught the barest hint of purple.

_________


The clang of the bell, which Adrian found to be an annoyance, signaled the end of fourth period. Weakly, he stumbled out of the classroom and drug himself to the lunch room on the top of the hill. Adrian had never gone into the lunchroom, or 'cursed building' which he fondly referred to it, and that was something he was proud to say. His friends gallivanted around him in their usual manner of good natured fun. He laid back on the soft grass and let the sun warm his body, pushing the sleeves of his jacket up after a few moments. He shut out his eyes with a contented sigh.

His respite was interrupted as the flash of the purple collar was briefly illuminated in his mind. He didn't realize his hand strayed to his bag until he felt the cool metal of the zipper. Quickly, Adrian pulled his hand away. What was wrong with him? He never zoned out like that. Mentally shaking himself, he sat up and grabbed his bag. Unnoticed, he slipped away from his group and made his way to the next period ten minutes early.

Fatigue ripped at Adrian's body on account of his late night. He collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Without anything to attract his attention, his surroundings became fuzzy. He felt his hands reach down to his bag, felt them grab the zipper and pull. Yet, somehow, he was detached from them, he had no control. They reached inside the bag and grasped the collar. Instantly, like a shock wave, power surged through him. His hands pulled the collar out and brought it up to his neck. The cool nylon wrapped around him and with a decisive click, the collar locked in place. He felt himself dip forward into nothingness. ]]> Stories in Progress Little Tyler http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16459-pursuit-happiness.html what do you think of my poerty? http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16449-what-do-you-think-my-poerty.html Sun, 08 Nov 2009 17:42:56 GMT The forest walkers We are alone. That is the only truth that we have clung to. We will always remember and cherish that days we loved. You took... The forest walkers

We are alone.
That is the only truth that we have clung to.
We will always remember and cherish that days we loved.
You took our forest away from us, our forest and our sanctity.

We must walk now,
And find a new forest to call home.
Our search, treacherous and futile, is decided not by us.
Foretold by ancestry, and lived by us,
We mirror their struggle.

Memories…
They are all we have left.
Memories,
Of a time when we were safe
As we walk we remember, to raise spirits

We can remember,
Our days of yore,
Days, when things were simple,
Days, when we didn’t live in fear.
Days, that are now gone

Our precocious sense of adventure,
Trampled on by the impending urban sprawl.
The voice of the people, such animosity yet so armature,
Sprayed on our walls with pointless aggression.

When trash began to coat our paths,
It became intuitive our immigration was imminent.
The modern youth created our disdain for the humanity we helped create.
With this discontent, how can we advance as a race?
Now that our haven is gone,
Virtues are all that’s tangible.

Our homeland turned desolate,
Only we will know the depression that hangs over us,
Like a rain cloud, we will never know happiness again,
But we prepared for it
And so we walk, on and on, to find a home
We are…the forest walkers! ]]> Stories in Progress r4di0sensitive http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16449-what-do-you-think-my-poerty.html Two Worlds http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16426-two-worlds.html Sat, 07 Nov 2009 19:16:34 GMT This is my second attempt at writing a story. My first attempt (a TB story) just wouidn't work right. So now I'm doing a non-TB story (sci-fi in this case, but don't forget the fiction part). It's written from the perspective of two characters (the second of which won't be introduced for a while)

------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
"In the last 50 years, humanity has progressed beyond any expectations of those in the 21st Century. Genetic engineering has been at the forefront of this progress. Today's humanity can do more, live more and live better. Would you get rid of all this progress?"
-- Dr. Douglas Clarke, known as the father of genetic engineering, in response to the Sub Revolts (2104)

"Ironic really, isn't it? The world ring, mankind's greatest achievement, looking down on the ruins of Earth, mankind's biggest failure."
-- Source Unknown (Date estimated: 2160)

Michael
*BANG* *BANG*. I wake up, just as my mum barges in. "Wake up, young man," she shouts, "You have school in 30 minutes". I look at the alarm clock, and it shows 8am. With a groan, I open my eyes and stretch my arms. "Don't give me that attitude! You chose to stay up all night.". And with that comment, she left.

I look up. My screen is showing a repeat of last night's show. I must have fallen asleep during it. Another one of those "Millennium so far" shows to celebrate the start of the 24th century in a few weeks. Oh well, hopefully I can distract the History teacher by talking about it for a while.

"Computer?", I call out.
"Computer? Would you like me to call you ape? I am far more advanced than any computer", replied Zero, the house AI. It was always fun to wind him up.
"How much was left on the show when I fell asleep?", I asked.
"About 40 minutes, Ape"
"Remind me when I'm back. I want to watch the rest of that".

And with that, I headed to the kitchen. My mum had already prepared the breakfast. I ate quickly, thanked her, left the room. As usual, I went the scenic route. A few corridors away was the edge of the ring. When it was built, this room had allowed people to look down and admire the Earth. Of course, in it's present state, most people hated to look down on the planet, but I always wondered what it was like for those who had lived there.

After staring for a few minutes, I moved on to the train station. The school area was quite a bit along the ring, so I usually took the train. As I entered, I spotted my classmate Nina Clarke sitting down on a bench waiting. That was odd. She didn't do History or Genetics, the two subjects I had this morning, so she shouldn't be here. I walked over to her.

"Fancy seeing you here ," I said, sitting down beside her.
"My dad is coming home. He's been down to the surface again for the last few weeks," came the reply.
"It must be tough on you, since he's gone for weeks at a time."
"It is, but he tries to make up for it. He says he is going to show me some of his nanotech work."

It was always odd talking to Nina. Her family was well known around the ring, having been among humanities leading scientists since before it was built. Her grandmother had been behind the development of true AIs. Her great grandfather had designed many of the automated systems that gathered materials from the planet for use in the ring. Back much further was Douglas Clarke himself. And now her father is making the first major progress on Nanotech. While all I saw was the girl I had grown up with, other people expected great things of her. It's a wonder that she never cracked under the pressure.

Ok, that's not all I saw. I fancied her as well, I admit it. I also admired her for her caring personality and her brains. But I was always too shy to tell her this, even though some of the looks she gave me at times looked like she felt the same way.

My train arrived. I got on, and in a few minutes, arrived at the school. It was History first. My history teacher was interested in the earlier events of this millennium. Unfortunately, the reason for his interest was because he could give the class an essay on "Decline of the Nation State". That was a boring hour.

Genetics class was more interesting, at least for the first half hour. The teacher talked about how the variety of human appearance had been drastically reduced since the advent of genetic engineering. While the total genetic information was the same, the amount of it in use at any one time depended on the fashions of the previous hundred years. Then he made us write an essay on that too.

After school, I headed back home. I got to the viewing corridor, when a huge flash appeared at the bottom of the nearest space elevator...

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2 will probably be done by the middle of next week. ]]> Stories in Progress Dreamaker http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16426-two-worlds.html Not so Savage After All: A KH fanfic http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16410-not-so-savage-after-all-kh-fanfic.html Sat, 07 Nov 2009 06:51:03 GMT Ah yes, I finally got around to writing something for once in my life. For my first act, I bring you a piece of AB/DL themed Kingdom Hearts... Ah yes, I finally got around to writing something for once in my life. For my first act, I bring you a piece of AB/DL themed Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, featuring a Larxene X Namine pairing and infantilism. We can thank RF Switched for inspiring me to write the story with this adorable picture right here:



Yeah yeah, the first section doesn't really have much content save for emotions and exposition, but it's pivotal to the rest of the story, so enjoy the ride before part two gets posted.

Larxene: A member of Organization XIII. For the most part a callous and cruel person, combining this with deadly combat skills and a short temper, you do not want to end up on her bad side. Strange as she is, Larxene's true intentions are nearly impossible to read. But is the Savage Nymph all that she makes herself out to be? It might not be so when her sweeter, more innocent, and much cuddlier hobby is brought into light.

Namine: A sweet young girl who finds herself in a situation most sour. Held captive by the sinister Organization XIII so they can take advantage of her special powers, Namine dreams to find at least one friend within the castle walls. When forced to stay under the close watch of Larxene due to a duty switch, will this dream finally be realized, or will it be destroyed when she discovers a secret that Larxene desperately wanted to keep to herself?

Organization XIII: Villainous organization de jure. Rawr.

So, after you read, this being the first thing I've written in frakking monthes, tell me what you think!

Personally, I'm not too fond of it. But they do say that the author is her own worst critic :/

~*~

Certainly it wasn’t easy being a member of Organization XIII, but certainly the rewards of joining were more than incentive to get certain beings to perk up and follow in suit, for if you followed orders and completed missions, certain beings that were incomplete would once again become whole. For those beings, the Nobodies, who existed with no Hearts to speak of, the promise of becoming a complete being in exchange for their hard work was enough to keep even the most easily distracted members on task. Not Larxene, however. She wasn’t inattentive like Xigbar or Demyx; Larxene always followed her orders to the letter, especially missions that involved eliminating an enemy of the Organization (Perhaps something that she enjoyed a little too much).

Ah, but it was all for its own sake. While other members were in it for their hearts, Larxene really had no idea what the hell she had gotten herself into when she first joined. Xigbar’s quick recruitment of the blonde haired vixen was enough to grasp her attention and focus on what the Organization wanted: The Hearts of humans to make themselves whole beings once again, though the magnificent power of Kingdom Hearts. Larxene would take these missions, follow their orders, chant the Organization credo, but whenever she did so, it did not seem as real as it should be. Where other members felt fervor for their cause, Larxene simply felt the missions as something to occupy massive amounts of time that would otherwise be spent bored out of her skull.

This dispassionate view of her line of work had started as soon as she had joined. Initially assuming that the Organization would be more cooperative than it turned out to be, Larxene found nothing but cold shoulders amid the members, save for the few that replaced the phrase “cold shoulders” with “gaping morons.”

Because of these so-called comrades, Larxene quickly developed a rebellious attitude, one that led her down a rather ghastly road to be sure. The Savage Nymph had underestimated her superiors, and after a few missions disregarded because she found them “boring,” the subsequent beatings and other forms of punishment produced the angry woman that we all know and love, and with a lack of entertaining assignments, Larxene turned to people, or the verbal and physical assaulting thereof, for her amusement.

Although Larxene felt little for the cause of the missions, she still took the aftereffects of the missions just like any of her comrades. Exhaustion from doing several missions straight in a row with no time spent at home would be just as taxing on a brick wall like Lexaeus as it would be for a curvy tease like Larxene. Regardless of her grace, her lithe, supple body, and her devastating skills in combat, nearly getting killed every week was something that certainly called for a break.

Downtime is something that most people value greatly. It’s that special period in which you can forget about whatever you’re supposed to be doing and get around to things that you want to be doing. For Larxene, what she wanted to be doing was lying in her room alone, turn on some music, maybe read a magazine, and drift off from the troublesome lifestyle that she led.

As soon as she heard that her next slew of missions was being taken by the new kid, Rocksis or whatever the hell his name was, she was as ecstatic as someone who still had a heart. The new kid taking her score of assignments meant two full weeks of time off with no ire from the Superior, who, quite frankly, could care less about what his subordinates did in their downtime as long as they delivered where he required them to. It was the perfect opportunity to relax and enjoy indulge herself. At least, that’s how it should have gone.

You see, Larxene's colleague Marluxia had his share of missions to complete, and as such he would be pulled away from his more regular duties around Castle Oblivion. Normally Larxene would be more than happy for Marluxia to be as far away from her as possible. From the moment they first met Marluxia had been making fruitless advances towards Larxene, something that she found insufferable after the umpteenth freaking time it happened. Passing winks, love notes left her bedroom, attempts to get as close to Larxene as possible, whenever possible. Sure enough Castle Oblivion was huge, but living as the only female amid eleven males and a Marluxia? Things tend to get a bit claustrophobic.

Furthermore, with Marluxia gone, it meant that someone in the chain-of-command had to assume his duties while he was gone.

The foremost of those duties being guarding the Prisoner.

Namine, a young witch that was formed from a strange conglomeration of the body of a girl named Kairi, and the heart and soul of Sora, a child that Larxene was aware was of particular interest to the Superior. For one reason or another, that meant that Namine was also of his particular interest, supposedly pivotal to his plans for making the members of Organization XIII whole once again. More boring speeches and lectures about the nature of the universe and something else long winded that Larxene didn’t particularly care about. Either way, now that Marluxia was absent from the Castle, it meant that someone was going to have to keep an eye on Namine.

Marluxia was intelligent to be sure, perhaps even one of the smartest members of the Organization next to Vexen, Zexion, and the Superior. Strangely however, his intelligence was lacking in a certain, very important field: He couldn’t take a freaking hint. For some reason he assumed that his romantic inclinations, hell, even inclinations of friendship were reciprocated by the Savage Nymph. No such luck, Pinkie. No matter how many times Larxene turned him down, Marluxia would always be back the next day as if nothing had happened. Of course, this meant that Larxene was the first person that Marluxia asked to cover his duties, and with him being even just one rank higher than she was, Larxene was forced to begrudgingly agree.

Great. Half of all that downtime meant having some kid in tow, lest she draw the attention of other members for shirking her duties. If she was anything like the last young member that had joined, the following week was going to be a royal pain in the ass.

As Marluxia was leaving, he directed Larxene to Namine’s cell near his quarters. After a few instructions that you would easily gather if your brain was located inside your skull, Marluxia departed. He handed her the room key, and, with a blown kiss and a flirtatious wink, he vanished into a Corridor of Darkness. After the last wisps of darkness had evaporated, Larxene stuck out her tongue in the direction of the portal.

“Douche.” She muttered, still annoyed that she was being forced into such a remedial task. Larxene flipped the key around on her fingers with the grace of an acrobat, a bored tick that she had developed when lacking the presence of her signature vermillion kunai. She slid the key into the iron lock and opened wide the door.

The room looked incredibly sterile, to say the least, with nothing in it being any color other than white. The only noteworthy feature was a petite blonde girl that sat off at a small desk, feverishly scritching and scratching a drawing onto a sketchpad.

Larxene made her way over towards Namine, taking in the simple features of the blank room. As she approached, Larxene couldn’t help but notice the strange beauty about this girl. Her hair was the same color as Larxene’s, as were her eyes, the ocean blue and light blonde mixing together with delicate and gentle facial features to form an overall pleasing, if not down right beautiful face. Her clothing was about as diametrically opposed to Larxene’s as one could get: A simple white dress with an infantile feel, running halfway down her thighs as opposed to Larxene’s ensemble of an ankle length black hood and cloak, with black tights and boots worn underneath the mysterious garment, all capturing the blonde vixen’s figure in a most stunning fashion.

Larxene shook her head at the thoughts, her otherwise pale face showing the ever slightest tint of light pink. Why was she thinking about the apparent beauty of the person that was taking away her free time? Larxene would have to think about this matter later, for doing so now further prevented her from going back to her room and figuring out ways to get back at Marluxia for this nonsense.

“Namine. Up, now,” Larxene ordered, her voice suddenly breaking the silence of the room. The girl at the desk looked as though she’d just been shot, falling backwards off of her chair, sketchpad and pencils going flying. The look on her face was that of silent humiliation, like that of a student who just landed in an awkward position with their token crush, as she clamored about to collect her scattered medium and tools. Larxene couldn’t help but think the scene was cute in a sort of messed up way. She thought that if Lexaeus were here, he would have a word for it. “Moe” thought Larxene, “From that manga that he’s always reading about those four girls in high school.” She wondered for a moment why the main character had blue hair, and furthermore why she grew it nearly as long as Sephiroth, but was jolted from her inane inward debate when Namine spoke for the first time.

“He-hello, Miss Larxene. Marluxia said that you were coming by for some reason?” She was trembling, but not enough for it to be from terror. Larxene knew that kind of trembling, so often she induced it in people herself. The fall, she decided, when she tipped her chair backwards.

“Yes, he might have mentioned that. Not that I particularly want anything to do with you, of course. Thanks to you, my time off has just been thrown out the window, so you had better not…” Larxene trailed off when she noticed that Namine seemed like she was making quite the effort to conceal the contents of her most recent drawing. Perhaps she could have some fun tormenting this burden after all.

“What have you got there?” Larxene said with a sadistic smirk. After a second or two, Namine realized that the Nymph was talking about her sketch pad, and made even more of an effort (And an increasingly obvious one at that) to hide the fact that she held anything.

“I haven’t got anything; no idea what you’re talking about!” The girl said with a nervous smile. Surely she couldn’t think that Larxene was that stupid, could she? Namine was hoping for Marluxia’s impatience with trivial matters to be shared with her new caretaker.

No such luck, as always. Larxene had been called fast before, in fact, she could easily outrun and outmaneuver any other member of Organization XIII. Even Xigbar, who could defy gravity just as easily as he defied the ability to think, found himself outclassed by Larxene’s grace and agility. It was in less than a second that Larxene had closed the short distance between them, moved behind Namine, and grabbed her sketchpad. The short girl had little time to react as Larxene started to examine her drawings.

“No, give that back! You can’t see that!” She cried, grabbing for the sketchpad that Larxene held aloft, just beyond the grasp of her delicate fingers.

“Ooo, what do we have here?” Larxene commented, looking over the drawing. It was a tad crude, but with a charm that was quite appealing to Larxene, and the scene depicted even moreso. It seemed to be a drawing of Namine eviscerating Marluxia with the very same pink scythe that he used in combat. If the idea wasn’t funny in itself, satisfying all the same, then the crude, yet expressive faces drawn on the characters were. Larxene couldn’t help but release a string of satisfactory laughter, “Oh Namine, do you have any idea what Marluxia will do to you if he finds this little masterpiece?” Larxene continued admiring the simple drawing, laughing once more when she noticed that Namine had even included speech bubbles containing some very colorful language. Even though it was clear that her artwork was well received, in a strange, sadistic sort of way, Namine continued to claw for the sketchpad, knowing full well the kind of punishment she would recieve from Marluxia if he scanned the pages of her sketchpad.

Although her efforts were to no avail, the mad grasping managed to cause one of the “antennae” that Larxene so meticulously styled her hair into every morning to come loose, accidentally being pulled down by Namine’s stray hand. The following minor discomfort of her hair being pulled was nothing compared to the following back hand that Namine received. Larxene twirled her former masterpiece impatiently around her forefinger and middle finger, looking as irritated as ever.

“Now see what you’ve done?” She asked to the stunned girl, still holding her cheek, “I already have to put up with enough bullshit from all the moronic men around this place that I think another girl would at least…” Larxene was cut off again once she had begun to read Namine’s expression.

Rather than shock or grief, anger or sadness, or any other emotion that Larxene would normally have solicited by slapping someone across the face, Namine’s eyes showed what seemed to be a lack of emotion altogether. Moreover it seemed that Namine was expecting more strikes, the look in her eyes even going so far as accepting the inevitable beating.

Larxene bit her lower lip at this defiance, finding it both aggravating as all hell and intriguing as the girl was attractive. This hesitation caused Namine to speak up, this time in a very meek tone.

“Aren’t you going to hit me again?” She said, not even trembling as she did so. Larxene had gathered that in her time spent as a prisoner under Marluxia’s guard had probably given her some kind of tolerance to this abuse. It was a strange feeling, but for a moment the Sadistic Sprite felt a surge of sympathy for the girl in white. Indeed, she brought her hand down to Namine’s face again, but this time she caressed her cheek instead of striking it. Larxene had never felt this strange sensation when dealing with someone. It seemed that, if only for a moment, the Savage Nymph cared about someone’s problems other than her own. Namine’s expression was one of confusion and anxiety, for she knew full well that the members of Organization XIII were masters of manipulation and subtlety, so she was cautious to the possibility of a trap.

“No, no. I’m not going to hit you again, Namine.” Larxene said, taking her hand away from the girl’s face.

“Why not?” Namine asked, clearly puzzled. Seeing an Organization member show mercy was a rare sight indeed. Namine’s tone stuck with Larxene at that statement. Larxene loved to torture and interrogate prisoners, it had even become one of her permanent positions on the Organization job chart, but for some reason, she felt that Namine was, well, different. A strange connection between the two seemed to spark for a moment, before hiding itself away.

“Because, I suppose I can understand what you’ve been subject to here,” Larxene said, casually, bringing up her gloved hand to examine her fingernails as if they weren’t covered by black fabric, “I can sympathize, at least somewhat. Neither of us seems to be very well treated around here. I’m kicked around by every other member of the Organization, and you’re kicked around by Marluxia, that annoying cunt.” Larxene paused a moment to look angrily towards the ceiling, imagining Marluxia becoming a permanent storage container for her kunai, “So I guess that means that we need to stick together, or so the cliché goes.” Larxene finished, looking at Namine with a wry grin. In most situations like these, if Larxene ever said anything like this to some annoying brat that she had just met, it would most certainly to manipulate the hell out of them for one reason or another, to toy with their emotions. This time however, if even just the tiniest part, it was genuine.

Namine herself brought a small smile to bear. Was Larxene actually being nice to her? Offering the hand of friendship? Namine lit up at the thought. Anyone within the cold walls of Castle Oblivion that wanted more than to beat and manipulate her was good enough to be given a chance in Namine’s book. Namine wandered in the thought for a few moments. That is, before she was quickly cut off when Larxene was again upon her. This time the girl was in a headlock, Larxene’s rogue length of hair dangling down to Namine’s cheek. Larxene took Namine’s arm at the wrist and twisted it around to her back, suppressing her in a painful police-hold. Larxene kept her here for a moment, long enough to whisper “You still owe me, however.” Into the sweet witch’s ear.

Namine was visibly in pain when Larxene released her, her knees buckling slightly and her free hand busied with rubbing her left arm in its entirety. Looking up with the eye that wasn't watering from the pain, she saw Larxene holding herself victoriously, staring intensely at the fragile girl.

“We may be alike, but that doesn’t excuse you from stealing my free time; don’t expect some kind of special treatment just because I like you, kid.” She said with a gentle bite in her voice, “Now get your crap together and follow me. If you’re going to be staying in my quarters, we need to find some place for you to sleep.”

Namine complied, the noogie now losing its effects as she busied herself collecting her sketchpad and pencils. While doing so, she couldn’t help but steal a glance at Larxene, her slightly haughty walk causing her hips to sway in a flirtatious manner. Larxene was strange, alien almost in her sadistic charm, thought Namine. She was a being of so many conflicting emotions, ironic to the fact that, if what is said is true, Nobodies weren’t supposed to have emotions in the first place.

Larxene was a strange creature in every sense. That was the best description Namine could put together. Naturally distrusting the abusive and genuinely malicious intentions of most Organization members, Namine was flustered. The Savage Nymph was as sadistic as they come, wearing a shell of malevolence and spite, taking joy from Namine’s suffering and annoyance, and feeling victorious from giving her a dead-arm. But underneath this shell, Namine mused, was that sympathy that Larxene held out to the blonde girl.

Namine could tell that in their respective situations, Larxene was no better off. The young witch was very good a reading people, and although she had just twisted her arm almost to breaking point, Namine felt that wasn’t acting out of genuine animosity, rather, she was acting on this power. Larxene was finally in control of someone, so of course she was going to savor that position. At least, this is what she hoped for.

Namine wanted to believe this, that there may be at least one decent member of the Organization in the castle, that amid all of the dark figures that fate imposed upon her, Larxene may not be as much of a bitch as she makes herself out to be.

Namine walked through the door, meeting Larxene with as much of a friendly smile as she could muster. The Sprite was surprised, considering her assault on Namine only minutes before. The look on Namine’s face was inviting, friendly almost. Not understand exactly how to approach this foreign situation, all Larxene could do was brush her slightly flushed face with a gloved hand and as she closed shut the iron door behind her, angrily motioning for Namine to follow, an order that she complied to with a smile.

Wait, she wasn’t dreading having to spend time with the person that had so clearly shown that their ideal use for Namine was more along the lines of “punching bag?” Larxene shooed away her questions, deciding to simply see how the events before her were to fold out with the strange young girl beside her.

"This is going to be an interetsing week," both girls thought simultaneously, their footsteps unknowingly falling in sync as they walked the distance through the castle corridors, both wondering exactly what was in store for them over the next few days.

~*~

Love it? Hate it? Want me to write more? I can't blame you if you said yes to number two (Thrice-Damned self hating author T_T), but if you said yes to one or three, you're in luck, because this thing is far from over! ]]> Stories in Progress Milla http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16410-not-so-savage-after-all-kh-fanfic.html Enigmatic Consciousness http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16373-enigmatic-consciousness.html Fri, 06 Nov 2009 02:17:07 GMT Hey guys. So this is another story I started writing a year or two ago. There's not much to it yet, and I kinda ditched the project after two chapters, but I'm thinking about finishing it up by working on it now and then. Kinda depends on whether you guys think I should finish it I guess. Anyways, full credit can't go to myself because the idea for this story came from a guy named Jimmy, who asked me to write this story after he read some of Farsight. We kinda workd out the basics together, and I wrote it down. I haven't really talked to him in a long time, but I still consider this story at least half his. So yeah, if you ever run into him you can tell him what you think, though I guess that's unlikely. Anyways, here's the first of two chapters so far, if you guys like it maybe I'll do some more.

Also, this chapter kinda ties into my other story, Farsight, though the connections are built on more in that story, so maybe read both if you've got the time. So yeah, I look forward to hearing what you all think.




ENIGMATIC CONSCIOUSNESS


By Slang and Jimmy Twist

... we came in?

So ya
Thought ya
Might like to go to the show
To feel the warm thrill of confusion
That space cadet glow
Tell me is something eluding you sunshine?
Is this not what you expected to see?
If you'd like to find out what's behind these cold eyes?
You'll just have to claw your way through the disguise


-Roger Waters



Chapter 1
Deja vu was undoubtedly one of the strangest and most incredible phenomena in the universe. It had been ages since Luke had felt such a pull towards something. He stared down at the diaper now clasped in his hand with so many different emotions it was nauseating. This one thing represented an enthrallment he had since overcome. There was a time when this thing had been his whole world. It had been a part of him; removed only through sheer will and something a lot like anguish. But now, gazing at the remnant of a time past, his deepest passion was again aroused like a lion by the morning sun. His heart accelerated and his palms began to sweat as euphoria crept through him; and then it was gone. Like nothing had ever happened Luke simply tossed the youth diaper into a nearby bag labeled as 'trash'.



Over the next several minutes he cleared the rest of the junk out the bottom of the closet that would no longer be in his in a few days. Luke and his family were moving from the crowded city of Hammer Bay to a small, isolated town in the mountains. Naturally, Luke was unhappy, but he knew that there were circumstances far out of his control causing this and that there would be no stopping the inevitable departure from his current residence. Returning to his closet, he soon cleared out the last of it and, after one last check over the now barren room, tied up the garbage bag and left.



As he struggled though the hallway with the overfull bag, he heard shouts coming from his brother Lane's room. This was commonplace, as Lane suffered from autism, which was a large part of the reason they were moving. Luke's younger brother by four years (Luke was fifteen), he had been put into overly crowded classrooms year after year and he had never really got the attention he required. Luke and Lane's parents had finally had enough and decided to leave for a new beginning out in 'the wild'. Luke's dad had already secured a job as town development planner. Lane's cries continued as Luke saw his mother attempting to pack his brother's clothing into a suitcase. Luke decided to lend a hand.



"I DON'T WANNA GO!" Lane screamed from atop his bed.



Luke's mother was doing her best to sooth him but her frustration was apparent.



"Come on buddy," Luke said as he walked in "It'll be fun in a new town."



The words had little effect and Lane continued to jump around and cause havoc.



"Lane, please!" His mom pleaded, but it was futile.



"Mom," Luke started, "Why don't you go downstairs and check how every thing's going with the movers and I'll get him." He nodded in the direction of his brother.



A half-smile and something that was similar to a sigh of relief was the thank you he got. His mother could normally keep more control over Lane, but her current state of stress and his new found level of energy made this difficult. Luke took a seat on the bed and stared up at his brother, making sure there was eye contact before he started.



"Lane, you wanna sit down?" Luke asked his sibling.



"NO!" Lane shouted as he kicked over the suitcase, whose contents spilled across the already disastrous floor.



"Lane," Luke said sternly, "Sit down please."



The younger paused, gazing back into his brother's eyes and considering before taking a seat next to him. Luke was glad it had been so easy. He was pretty close to his brother and he could often get him to calm down if he could grasp his attention, if only for a moment.



He began "Now listen Lane, I know that you don't want to leave. But you gotta look at the bright side. You're gonna meet a bunch of new friends and there's a lot more things to do up in the mountains. We'll actually have a backyard that you can play in, and I think they've even got some horses out there."



Lane, who had been playing with his thumbs perked up at this. If there was one thing that he liked, it was animals.



"Really Luke?" he inquired "Will there be horses? Can I ride one?"



"I think so," Luke continued, "But that's only if you act grown up get your stuff packed up. Okay?"



"Okay Luke!" Lane said ecstatically. He leaned over and hugged his older brother, who at 5'5" could only barely see over his younger sibling's head.



"Here, I'll give you a hand." Luke offered and together they packed up all of Lane's things.



About a half-an-hour later the two of them came down the stairs to find there once cozy living room nothing but four walls and a window. Sort of depressing, thought Luke.



"Are you boys all ready?" His mom shouted from the kitchen.



"Yeah, we're good!" Luke replied.



He glanced at the clock, which read quarter-to-twelve. He still had time. Leaving his brother on his own, Luke struggled between stacks of boxes into the next room where his mother was overseeing the moving of a cabinet.



"Hey mom," Luke said as he approached, "Is it cool if I head over to the school, just to see some of the guys. I'll be quick." He added as he saw his mother's uncertain look.



"Fine," she agreed absentmindedly, "But don't be too long."



"I won't." he promised as he dashed from the room.



He exited the front door and found his skateboard waiting for him against the house's exterior. He grabbed it and rolled it out of the driveway as he hopped on. He accelerated along the street, taking in what would be some of the last memories of his hometown. He knew the neighborhood well. The houses had become familiar as had their inhabitants. He crossed in front of his old teacher Mr. Gibbon's house. That guy was something else, the only person in the world who could make science interesting. He continued past more houses and laughed as he rolled by Carly Green's house. The first girl he had ever kissed. After they broke up, she dated three different guys in about a month to try to make him jealous, which had gained her the title of class whore. A little harsh, Luke had concluded, but the truth often could be.



Luke took a right turn so he could go past the beach one last time. The smell of the ocean swept over him like the tide that it rose from.. He was already missing that scent, and he had never really enjoyed it much. It was just a part of him, and it would soon be gone. He rode in front of all the small restaurants and surf huts that in one way or another had acquired most of the money he had ever had to spend. The wind picked up and he was glad that he had recently cut his long hair or he would be awfully concerned about pulling it out of his face right about then. His now dyed-black-with-white streaks hair lay untidily atop his head. The fact that he had not tended to his hairstyle had unintentionally given him a whole new hairstyle which he thought suited him. He reached the point where he had to turn and did accordingly.



As Luke coasted up the sidewalk, he allowed his mind to wander off. Seeing that diaper had been so weird this morning. He recalled back to when he first had wanted to experience his younger life again. Lane was about five, and he was still in diapers. He was slowly managing to get toilet-trained, but it was taking some serious time. This and other matters relating to his autistic brother had caused the boys' parents to spend a lot of extra time with Lane, and Luke had begun to think he was getting the cold shoulder. He was selfishly wishing for a time when it had just had been him around the house. His mom and dad had spent time with him then. Through some strange psychological twists, Luke had found himself desiring diapers. At first, it had been a sort of numb longing in the back of his mind, but as time passed, and his passion increased, he soon had something inside him that was ready to rip through the flesh and take the lost piece of his childhood back.



Then it happened. As he was home alone one day, a nine-year-old Luke snuck into his brother's room and into the bottom drawer where that which he wanted most lay. He moved as quietly as possible, even though he was the only one home. Luke grabbed the pull-up out from the dresser and merely stared at it. He felt a curious sensation of accomplishment, fulfillment and that rush of doing something you think is wrong but feels so right. He scurried back to his own room for whatever reason and almost tore off his pants. Luke slipped of his boxers and subtly pulled the diaper open. He stepped his feet in one at a time and as he pulled it up his legs. He felt phenomenal. The reminiscent touch of the pull-up gave him an erection, which confused him a little but Luke just continued and he pulled the protective underwear over his boyhood member. Luke felt amazing. He was overjoyed that he had finally been able to get into one of Lane's diapers. He walked around just to take in the feel of it. It wasn't too small, but it was tight. Luke didn't mind, he actually enjoyed the pressure of it around his groin. The puffy white and blue outlining and Buzz Lightyear designs completed his mental trip back to his young childhood. He lay on his bed and relaxed, the pull-up giving making him more comfortable in some strange way. He was truly happy for the first time in a long time. Luke considered wetting the diaper, but he was much too scared. The adrenaline rush from the whole thing already had him jumping at even the slightest noise, and he thought for sure that his parents would come charging in the door at any given moment. And what if they did, Luke had thought. Would they be angry? Would they punish him? Maybe they would force him to wear the diapers just like Lane. Luke had mixed feelings about that idea. Sure, he wanted to be a baby again, but he definitely didn't want anybody finding out about his secret lust. Luke decided that he wasn't going to tell any one about his love of diapers. He got up off his bed and started playing with his toys absentmindedly, all the while sitting contently in his brother's pull-ups. He stayed in the diaper for an hour or so, then removed it while promising himself that he would do it again soon.



That was a long time ago, Luke concluded mentally as he took another turn on his skateboard. For so long diapers had been his reason for going, but now the thoughts of regression to a less complicated time in his life were gone. He still got a quick yet mild buzz when a commercial for goodnites or something like that came on, but aside from that Luke was over it all. He wasn't really sorry either.



The skateboard and its rider came to a sudden stop at small path that led off the sidewalk towards a set of stairs that shot up the side of a hill. Luke took what would probably be his last march up the staircase. This was something that he would not be missing. Exactly 67 steps later (they had been counted by Luke daily for the past few years), Luke stood triumphantly at the top, gazing onward at what was now his old school. He continued forward through the small crowds that had elected to spend there first lunch hour outside. That day was indeed the first of school in California, but fortunately for Luke school started a week later in Colorado, the state he was leaving for. Entering the door, Luke tried to navigate through the masses. He attempted to slip past a rather large person, only to be nudged aside and into some poor passerby. Luke turned to apologize to find the face of a guy he was pretty sure was named Dave.



"Better watch it, fag." Dave threatened rather loudly.



Only a few people noticed, including the posse of about eight that surrounded him. There was a small silence, and Luke knew that if he wanted a fight, he could certainly have one. But he decided to decline a potential confrontation and he merely backed away, saluting Dave with his two favourite fingers. Dave looked ready to come after him, but he was restrained by one of his friends.



Luke continued down the hallway, not letting any of what had just occurred linger in his mind. He was used to the name calling. He wasn't actually gay, he had had a few girlfriends over the past few years. But Luke dressed in a way that most people assumed he was homosexual or emo or something. He basically only wore black, today it had been his favorite long black shorts and a dark tightish shirt which showcased one of his favorite bands, Avenged Sevenfold. His lower lip was pierced and his black and white hair lay unkempt and at mid length on his scalp. He wasn't skinny, Luke was actually kind of ripped. In fact, his slightly dreary appearance in no way reflected on his calm and eager personality. Luke had begun to alter his appearance to this current state when he had begun to hangout with his current group of friends, who all fashioned themselves in a similar manner. Most of them just liked the look, but a few acted moody and depressed quite often. Unlike his clique, however, Luke enjoyed being outside and skateboarding, and he was also on the school's basketball team, or at least he had been. Anyway, he thought to himself, it didn't matter what he looked like, and he would tell that to Dave or anybody else who pissed him off. Looking back, Luke decided that he wouldn't have minded a fight.



Finally managing his way past yet another group of giggling girls, Luke finally approached the area where he and his friends hung out at lunch. It was a pretty much a circle of benches situated outside of the drama room doors. His closest friend Kurt, who had been entertaining the small circle of people with his guitar, looked up as Luke arrived.



"Well well welly well well," said Kurt in his best Alex de Large impersonation, "look who has decided to grace us with his presence one last time."



"You're welcome," Luke said through a smile, ignoring the sarcasm.



"I still can't believe that you are going to go live in some hick town in Colorado. What the hell am I supposed to do here by myself?"



"The same sad thing you do when you're by yourself any other time." The comment came from a guy named Zack, who was sitting off to the side. Laughter followed this.



"I'm not even going to dignify that with a comeback." Kurt declared as he glared at Zack, then turning back to Luke, he continued, "So, what time do you leave?"



Luke glanced down at his watch and replied "In about an hour."



"Holy shit!" Kurt exclaimed, "We should do something, like, I dunno, epic."



"I got an idea," Zack said after a moment of silence. "Luke say your goodbye to everyone and then follow me."



"Um, okay." Luke agreed and did so.



A few of his friends were crying (mostly the girls) and the sight of this almost caused him to do the same. Eventually, Luke was allowed to go after one last hug. He quickly followed after Zack with Kurt in tow. As they walked down the hallway they came across a couple making out beside some lockers.



"Jimmy," Zack barked, "Let's go. It's important."



Jimmy, as the guy was named, quickly discarded the girl and after a quick apology was on his way with them.



"This had better be good," Jimmy said in an annoyed tone while brushing his hair from his eyes.



"It's Luke's last day here and we're gonna have a good time." Kurt said as the group halted in front of a locker.



Jimmy, who has a little bigger than Luke and a year older, looked sad as he said "I totally forgot!" He proceeded to pick Luke up in a bear hug and spin around, all the time screaming. "DON'T GO! DON'T GO!"



"Quiet down man." Zack said firmly. "We don't want to be drawing attention to ourselves right now.



"Ohhhh" said Jimmy as a look of understanding dawned over his face as they soon arrived at Zack's locker..



He had obviously deduced what they were up to. Luke had a pretty good idea of what their celebration would be and his thoughts were confirmed when Zack pulled a bottle of Sour Puss from his locker.



"Not the strongest stuff," he admitted sheepishly, "But it tastes good and it does the trick."



"You shouldn't have." Luke exclaimed in a purposely melodramatic voice.



"You sir, have a problem." Kurt said as he took the bottle from Zack's hand. "It's like twelve-thirty. And why do you even have this shit in your locker."



The conversation continued as they walked out a side entrance and towards the beach, careful not be noticed.



"Are you complaining?" Zack questioned flatly.



Kurt continued "No, but-"



He was cut off by Zack "Then stifle yourself would ya. It's for special occasions... and dealing with math class."



Jimmy and Luke began to laugh, but they stopped suddenly when they were cut off by some sixth-grader on a bike who had obviously just botched a jump off of a nearby bench. The kid tumbled off his bike and landed on his wrist which was already enclosed in a cast. He got up, nursing his injury. As he turned to see the people he had just about taken out, a look of absolute fear overtook his face. He was obviously traumatized to be staring at four apparent seniors.



"S-sorry," he said almost trembling, "I uh, didn't see you there ."



"What the fuck do you mean?" Jimmy began screaming at him "You could have fucking killed us! Don't you have any decency? I guess common courtesy isn't so fucking common after all!"



After seeing that the kid was almost in tears, he began laughing and said "I'm just fuckin' with ya, I don't care. It's only because... holy shit look at the size of that seagull!"



Jimmy's current train of thought derailed as one massive seagull glided by. Jimmy quickly gave chase while screaming at the bird. The kid must have been somewhere between horrifically terrified and utterly confuddled.



"Sorry about him." Kurt said, awaking the kid from his state of shock.



"Its, um, alright." He replied, still favoring his broken wrist.



"Biking's dangerous." Luke said as he noticed this, "You should take up skateboarding. It's much more better."



"Actually," the kid replied, "I do skateboard, but yesterday it got trashed by some gang."



"They hurt your wrist and give you that shiner too?" Kurt asked.



The younger boy nodded. Luke noticed that the kid was casually eying the drink that Zack was carrying.



"Sour Puss" Zack said, apparently also noticing the kid's interest in the beverage that he carried. "Good shit. You want some?"



"No thanks," the boy said as though caught off guard. "I'm straight edge."



Zack just laughed at this.



"I'll tell you what," Luke said to the kid, "If you don't tell anyone what you saw here, then I'll give you my skateboard."



Luke passed the skateboard, which he had been carrying, over to the boy, who looked down at it in awe.



"Really?" he and Kurt questioned simultaneously.



"Yeah sure," Luke replied, "I don't think I'm gonna be riding it around up in the mountains. Maybe a snowboard, but who knows."



"Thanks man." the kid said ecstatically.



"Whatever," said Luke, "Now get out of here."



He picked up his bike and pedaled away with the skateboard being carried awkwardly by the injured arm.



"Such a giver," Kurt commented wiping a fake tear from his eye.



"What can I say?" Luke retorted, "I live to love."



"And I love to live." Zack added, "Now let’s go drown our problems."



Zack lifted the drink up above his like a trophy and they continued along down the path. The boys talked about whatever, and Luke was enjoying these last minutes with his closest friends. They were good guys and he would sure miss them. Eventually they ran into Jimmy again, who was sporting a bleeding lip and a handful of feathers.



"Successful hunt?" Kurt inquired while trying not to laugh.



"Hell no!" Jimmy roared, "I wanted the whole damn thing, but he was a fighter alright. Oh well, at least I've got proof that I tangled with the world's largest seagull."



They all laughed.



"So," Jimmy continued, "Did you give that kid what for?"



"Didn't have to," Zack replied "By the time you were through with him he had almost crapped himself."



Luke felt the same momentary tweak he always felt when such a topic was mentioned, put it quickly passed through his mind.



Jimmy laughed and continued "Well, what would the world be without the occasional terrorizing of those younger than us?"



"A good place." Kurt concluded.



"Well, I'd rather it be fun than good." Jimmy stated as the group began their descent down the hillside towards a private section of the beach.



They arrived promptly at their desired location to find it completely void of another life, which was perfect. Zack opened the drink and held it high in the air.



"To Luke," he toasted "may he not become some long-haired mountain hippy and that he may come back to visit us and end what will undoubtedly be months of whining from Kurt."



He tilted his head back and took a long swig before passing the bottle to Luke. Luke nodded in thanks and did the same. He then passed the bottle to Jimmy, who chugged about half of its contents and was only stopped by Kurt forcing the Sour Puss from his hand.



"That's pretty good stuff," Jimmy said while wincing.



"Thanks for sharing," Kurt returned sarcastically.



Kurt to a drink and the bottle circulated once again and soon there was only a small bit left. Luke was given the remaining alcohol, which he sipped slowly. None of them were showing much sign being inebriated, they were all pretty good drunks, which Jimmy claimed was from practice. This indeed wasn't the first time they had drank together, but, Luke solemnly reminded himself, it would be the last time for quite a while. The four friends stood quietly on the beach for a while, a silence that was disturbed by the ringing school bell in the distance.



"Should probably get back to class," Kurt said as he glanced at his watch.



"Whatever," Jimmy shrugged, "this is more important."



"Actually, I gotta get going soon too." Luke admitted.



"Well then, I guess this is it." Zack stated.



In turn, Luke hugged each of his friends. Kurt was pretty quiet, for a change.



"As soon as you leave, I'm gonna go out with Chelsea." Kurt said and he sounded as though he was holding back tears.



Chelsea had been Luke girlfriend until about halfway through the summer. They had been quite serious, but she had broken up with him after he had told her that he was moving. Luke thought it had been somewhat selfish, but he could also see the reasoning behind it. As least she wasn't going out with some other guy, he thought. It was common knowledge that Kurt wanted her, but he had decided to wait until Luke had left. Kurt had thought this had made him a gentlemen.



"I know," Luke said. "She won't put up with you for long."



Kurt let out a short laugh as Luke hugged Zack.



"I can't believe that I'm gonna have to put up with him without you." Zack said as he nodded in Kurt's direction.



"I've been saying for years that we should get him a muzzle." Luke joked. Zack smiled.



"Come here you!" Jimmy cried as he pulled Zack away and threw his arms around Luke.



"I'll miss you too." Jake gasped as Jimmy's grip tightened.



"You've been a delightful audience." Jimmy said wiping a tear away. He was referring to what he called the Jimmy Show, or rather, his life, which he considered everybody else (especially the government) to be watching.



"Whatever," Luke said as he released himself, "Well, I uh... I guess I'll see you guys later."



With that, he turned around and left his friends. He could hear them walking back up to the school. As he marched across the wet sand, the wind picked up and a dark sky was beginning to approach. Luke new it would be raining shortly, and he thought about how much he would be missing the rain when he was standing knee-deep in snow. He looked back, but his comrades had disappeared. Luke missed them already. He continued his trek slowly, knowing full well that his parents would be upset by the amount of time he had been gone. Maybe it was all the stress or the emotions or perhaps it had been the alcohol, Luke wasn't sure, but he was now feeling awfully tired. He let out a long yawn and he was now appreciating the distance between his old house and the school. When he had given that kid his skateboard, he hadn't been considering this. Oh well, though Luke, it was a good thing to do. Luke liked to make other people's lives easier. It was just something he did. Crossing from the waterfront to the street, he took a left and took what would most likely be his last walk down his street.



Luke arrived at his house to a level of anxiety he had never thought possible. The moving van was situated in their driveway. Glancing in the back, Luke saw that it had been crammed full. His car also looked to be overflowing with his families possessions and Luke knew it would certainly be a feat to get all four people into the remaining space. As he stepped through his front door, his ears were stung by the all to familiar piercing scream of his mother.



"Where have you been?!" she cried as she rounded the corner. "We're late."



"Late for what?" Luke snapped back "Colorado is gonna be there for a while. I don't think we'll be missing anything."



He almost immediately regretted his smart comeback, as his mother proceeded to lay down a verbal onslaught on him that seemed to take forever. He managed to catch something about how irresponsible he was and how he never considered anything before his own needs. Luke was hoping with all his heart that she didn't small the alcohol that hung on his breath like a fog.



"Luke, give me a hand in hear!" his dad's voice came from the kitchen.



"Go." His mother commanded harshly.



He rushed into the kitchen to find his father struggling with a huge box of cutlery and other appliances. Luke quickly grabbed the opposite side of the crate hoisted up to a balanced level with his dad.



"Thanks" his dad grumbled, "Let's get this to the car."



Luke slowly backed up, taking baby steps the whole way. He almost rammed into Lane as his younger brother carried what looked to a box of his most valued possessions out to the vehicle. Luke was forced to stop abruptly, much to the chagrin of his father. Luke grimaced as he heard some curse words flying from behind the delicate load. The pair had to wrestle the box out the doorway, a feat accomplished in no less than five minutes. They discarded the box in the trunk of the car, which could hardly contain the new addition to its cargo.



"Let's go get the rest." Luke's dad ordered grimly as they headed back inside.



After several more trips with almost equally troublesome crates, the family was ready to leave. Every room had been cleared out. The walls had been stripped down and the cupboards left barren. In taking one last look around, Luke concluded that there home was now just a house, left naked as he and his family departed for better or worse. It was almost heartbreaking to see the place where he had grown up reduced to nothing more than a shell. He meandered towards the door and saw Lane sitting on the stairs.



"Come on buddy," Luke said as he put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "It's time to go now."



Lane stared up at him and stood. They walked from the house and climbed through the chaotic mess into the back of their car. Their parents followed soon afterwards, only after several checks to make sure everything had been packed. The engine hummed as his dad turned the key.



"Alright then," his dad half sighed, "Here we go.".



The car slid from the driveway onto the road and towards the highway. The whole family sat in silence. Luke's mom was already attempting to fall asleep and Lane was preoccupied with his Rubik's Cube. He was really weird with that thing, Luke had thought. Lane could complete the puzzle in about three minutes, while Luke couldn't figure that thing out if you gave him a year. It often managed to keep Lane busy for hours, and other times he wouldn't give it a second thought. The car pulled on to the highway and began the long trip to Colorado. Luke leaned his head against the window and stared outside. The road twisted above the city and he gazed over his old hometown as the clouds continued to gather high above. He would miss it all. The people, especially his friends, the ocean, the city itself. He was leaving it all behind. The clouds darkened and in the distance the low growl of thunder could be heard. It looked like rain. ]]> Stories in Progress Slang http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16373-enigmatic-consciousness.html My Poetry :) wat do you think about it :) http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16334-my-poetry-wat-do-you-think-about.html Wed, 04 Nov 2009 13:44:20 GMT -Memories from The Heart-
2/10/09 “Keeping You Safe” [name removed for security reasons]

If you were near every night I’d make sure you were safe
With soothing words I’d give you faith.
I’d lock the doors and shut the windows
I’d cover you up and hide your shadows.
I’d give you a kiss and say goodnight
I’d leave on one light so you won’t get a fright.
I’d say I love you and walk towards the door
You’d want another kiss on the lips just one more.
So I’d do it again then smile in a light
I leave your room leaving some to shine in your sight.
I come to you when you scream in your nightmare
I’d lie next to you until there’s no more fear.
Then I whisper sweet words while you lie asleep
This so for the rest of the moon you make no sound nor any peep.
In this warm summer darkness you get hot and again awake
So I open up your window slightly as my heart you take.
You smile in the moon light and hold out your hand
I hold it in this moment but still in front of you I stand.
You pull me to your bed and lift up the covers
This angel opens her eyes as we become closer as lovers.
We cuddle unclothed in this hot room filled with memories
Now on this day I for fill your wishes and turn real your fantasies.
Your breath on me in this room feels so good
Like when we were in the rain by the bus we stood.
We face each other as you give me another smile
I don’t try to get up I guess I could lay a while.
You rub your legs in between mine and giggle then we kiss
Your eyes light up so beautifully with love and bliss.
You moved in quickly in the dark and didn’t miss.
You were moaning as you moved in and out
I whispered your name as were shifting pleasurably about.
I’d call you cawala bear in such a sweet gentle tone
You’d call me teddy bear and say never leave me alone.
I want this memory to last forever never ending tonight
You’d do this thing were you nibble on my lip trying not to bite.
This distant love is a long burden to bare
I’d keep you safe if only you were here. ]]> Stories in Progress BabyLovePoetLorent http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16334-my-poetry-wat-do-you-think-about.html Zom(g!)bies! http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16332-zom-g-bies.html Wed, 04 Nov 2009 07:26:53 GMT I thought the title was rather clever ZOM(G!)BIES! So I present to you a story that will have three main parts to it, not parts, three themes if... I thought the title was rather clever ZOM(G!)BIES!

So I present to you a story that will have three main parts to it, not parts, three themes if you will.

-How would an *B/DL react in the zombie world?
-How would a human survivor react to said *B/DL (I mean, what a let down. First human in ages, has a sexual fetish)
-In a world gone to the crapper, and with a limited power structure, will people behave good or bad? (Of course, there will be a mix of both, with a very nice guy, and one absolute evil person in Colorado.)

Anywho, this has zombies, so expect some blood, gore, and people getting their BRAINS eaten! Also some mature sexual themes later on, such as masturbation, sexual situations, nudity. There will also be a chapter or two with some abuse and evil acts, these chapters will be clearly marked.

Aside from that, I'm writing this for the fun of it, writing it shotgun style. Writing down a whole bunch of idea, and then writing another draft by picking bits and pieces of that. Because of that, the flow of the story may be a bit jumbled, and their may be some minor grammer/spelling errors. According to Microsoft word, I have no errors in this chapter.

'njoy

ZOM(G!)BIES!! Chapter 1: In where the story is told on the beginning of the world going to hell.

THUMMZPP

With the sound of a muffled crunch filtered through a layer of meat, and an arrow jutting from its eyeball, the zombie fell to the ground dead…again.

From my crouched position behind a very large, three foot teddy bear, I slowly let the air out of my lungs. With a practiced flow of movements I grabbed another arrow from a quiver on my side, and notched it into place before getting up and walking over to the now redead zombie. I gave it a quick once over to double check it’s deadness for a second before placing my foot on its head and yanking my arrow out with a mighty tug. Putting the bloodied arrow into a flask attached to my quiver labeled with the words “DO NOT DRINK: SOM NASTY SHIT”, I grabbed a small notebook from my jacket pocket.

“Number 42.” I said, putting a checkmark on the first page, next to the 41 other checkmarks on the first page. I let off a single laugh at the reference.

“So, Mr. 42 Zombie, do you happen to have the question? The why did this happen? Or how you come to be? Cause I have the answer, the answer was the last four days of hell I just went through…but why did it have to happen? Things were just going fine till you all decide to show up…Well, I’m sure the lot of you would be glad to know that I will be leaving this place for good, and you no longer have to worry about me killing all of you, again” I said to the zombie, as I walked around the store to check all possible locations for a zombie to be in.

Finding the area clear I grabbed my set of keys and pulled down the large metal gate that locked the front part of the store. In the distance some zombies heard the noise, and began to shuffle my way. By the time they arrived, the metal gate had slid into place and they just banged up against it for a few moments before heading back into the groups they coagulate into.

I was crouching next to a large aisle of stuffed animals, my breath even and level, bow half pulled back with an arrow already notched in-case of the unlikely event of the gate breaking down. When the noise died down I let myself relax and look up.

A small, green, and rather fuzzy animal plush was looking back at me. He looked to be an octopus, but a quick count of his legs made him a hexopus, only six legs. He had the big, brown eyes, the kind you can only see on a fake animal. They looked extremely sad, but only when I was crouched down on the ground, when I stood up to move away, the eyes seemed to pick up and looked to radiate a certain type of happiness I hadn’t see in awhile.

Shrugging, I picked him up and plopped him right on top of my head. His limbs were the perfect length, and like a head crab, he seemed to be very comfortable sitting right on top of my head.

“Hello, good sir. The name is Andrew, Andrew Graves. What’s yours?” I said, partly because I wanted a response, partly because I liked saying things aloud to occupy my mind.

The hexopus remained silent.

“Blu? What a strange name for a green fellow. But these are rather strange times, don’t you know?”

Blu, as I had now named him, didn’t reply.

“You don’t know? Well let me tell you a story, it all happened four days ago…”


…


“Well the difference between the Samsung and the Sony TV’s you picked out
are pretty small. Personally, having spent a good deal of time around these TV’s, I prefer the Samsung. Other employees would pick the Sony. They both have similar warranties, specs, and maintenance records…so…yeah; they’re about the same really.” I said to my customers. The Brown’s were a freshly wedded couple just fresh out of college for both of them, and luckily they both had jobs in the pressing economic times. They had just gotten a house, and were looking to get all of their appliance and home electronics at my employer, Sears.

At the moment, they were talking to me, Andrew Graves, a 20 year old undergrad student in engineering working away at a summer job for some cash for the school years. I was dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a simple suit jacket. I didn’t have to wear a jacket, but I enjoyed having a large amount of pockets to store the numerous gadgets, and gizmos to entertain my hands when there was nothing to do.

“Hmm…What do you think honey?” Said Susan, the female half of the couple.
The two were standing right next to each, Henry’s arm draped around his wife as he looked up at the TV and moved thoughts around in his head at the important decision on which metal and plastic box would be his entertainment portal to the world.

“Samsung, I like the Samsung more. Has a sleeker look to it.” Henry said, with the finality of a proclamation of war.

“Alright, well I already checked on stock, so everything is good to go there. So all we have to do is ring it up.” I said with a clap of my hands. I quickly did some math in my head as I tried to figure out the commission of the sale in my head, and ended up with 120 dollars at the least. If I could get the extended warranty, another 60 dollars would be in my pocket come the next paycheck.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” A blood curdling scream ripped me out of my mathematical reverie as I turned around to see Susan pointing at a figure at the end of the aisle. My manager, a rather portly fellow who I described as a manatee given human form, was on all fours. This in itself would have been odd, but the blood and gore dripping from his mouth, and the insane madness that seemed to ooze out of his eyes sent a chill down my spine.

With a roar of fury my portly manager, who I never saw move faster than a brisk walk, pushed off and charged towards me and my customers. Henry jumped in front of his raging rush in an effort to protect his wife, and with a tumble of limbs the two of them were on the floor. With a mighty crack my manager cracked his fist into Henry’s forehead, dazing him for a moment. With a quick bite, Henry’s neck was torn out, the brief scream he had gone with it.

Susan ran towards her husband, a move I thought slightly illogical as I was running in the exact opposite direction. I heard the scream of several other people throughout the store, and then I heard the shout that would stick me for the rest of my life.

“ZOMBIE!”

Now of course, up until this point, zombies did not exist, and such a statement would have been ridiculous. But recent events, namely the last ten seconds, seemed to point exactly to zombies. I ran to the entrance of the Sears store, on the third story of the mall, my breath panting.

Instead of the pristine white tile floor, the soft gentle mall music and the lazy stroll of shoppers as they go spend their hard earned money. Utter chaos gripped the mall. People were running around, either chasing or being chased. Bodies leaking blood were strewn across the floor, in disbelief I watched as a person who shouldn’t be able to even move, get up and stumble around on broken or gashed legs, their face turned into the soon to be familiar zombie
visage.

A roar brought my attention back to a closer pressing issue. A zombie that was only a short toss away, his clothes were a bloody mess as parts of his flesh were torn out and leaking numerous fluids. He started to run to me, which caused me to unleash my girly scream and run away. I ducked into home appliance and yanked open a door of display oven. With a reassuring clank I heard something run into it, but I kept running into the side hallway where most of the offices are kept.

I ran into the side office where I usually take my breaks, the door itself was locked unless you had a simple code (12345), which gave me a degree of protection. But I was more interested in the access to the maintenance tunnels. Throughout the malls there were a series of tunnels that connected all the stores together, only the janitor staff used them really, along with some simple supply and storage. One of the access points for sears was in the employee break room. But very few people had the keys to them; I didn’t even have the keys.

But I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I reached into my suit jacket pocket and grabbed my lock pick set. It was a misdemeanor to carry a lock pick set in the district where I lived, but I figured if I had no ill intent I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I had lock picking as a simple mechanical hobby of mine, and it was a handy one for when I or a friend got locked out of a place.

The lock had five tumblers, simple really. With a practiced ease I put slight pressure on my L-bar and worked my pick back and forth. Five clicks later, I had unlocked the door and sneaked inside. I was safe, for now. The mall was a war-zone; otherwise I would have tried to escape, for now I’ll just wait it out, and hope I could survive.

**

“…and that’s how I was able to survive, I spent two days in the tunnels, scavenging for food and supplies from where I could find it.” I said to Blu.

Blu the hexopus, of course, didn’t say anything.

“How did I get here, with you? Oh that’s a different story; let me tell you that one while I’m at it…” ]]> Stories in Progress Babymullet Ver 9.8 http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16332-zom-g-bies.html <![CDATA[Our World [Warning: Violence & Sugesstive Themes!]]]> http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16290-our-world-warning-violence-sugesstive-themes.html Tue, 03 Nov 2009 03:24:40 GMT Author's Note: This is a short story that takes place in a not so far away future where AB's,TB's,DL's, and BF's have “come out of the closet” so to speak and their existence and culture is common knowledge. However, not everyone is happy with the development. What a surprise, right?

Part 1

A teenage boy ran through the dark alleys of a nearly empty street under the light of the full moon which illuminated his light brown skin. He was clothed in a set of black overalls with a cartoon skull and crossbones on the chest, underneath which a long-sleeved black and white striped shirt could be seen. His short, curly black hair moved with him, up and down as he ran faster and faster, pumping his legs, and making an all too familiar crinkling noise. His dark brown eyes shifted from side to side, trying to look behind him as he ran. The shoelaces on his black sneakers came undone and he tripped and fell, giving his pursuers plenty of time to catch up. What was he running from? A gang of thugs who didn't exactly agree with his choice of lifestyle.


“Go away, I didn't do anything to you!” he shouted, backing up against a brick wall as he reached a dead end. He hugged the teddy bear he was holding out of fear, and squeezed it tightly against his chest. The thugs simply smirked, some even chuckled. It was clear they weren't going to change their minds because of his cute attire.


The group of 7 quickly surrounded him. All of them were dressed in street clothing: tattered jeans, shirts, piercings, obscene tattoos, and unusual hairstyles each one of which was a different color of the rainbow. Armed with bats and chains, they had a look of blood-lust in their eyes, the kind of look that a wild animal has, just before they kill their prey.


“Please...just leave me alone,” he pleaded, as they edged ever closer to him.


But they didn't. A young man with blue hair and a pony took the initiative, running up and whacking the boy in head with a bat. The young boy fell to his knees and cried out in pain, causing him to drop his his teddy bear. The group of thugs just laughed, cruelly stepping on the bear as they advanced forward. A few jokingly offered him a pacifier. The boy crouched into a ball and covered his head with his arms, but that didn't stop them from coming. Instead, they assaulted him one by one. A girl with green pigtails whipped him with her chains. Others soon followed. Some used their weapons, others dropped their weapons and used their fists. By this time, the poor boy's clothes were torn, beat up, and stained with his own blood.


Suddenly, a young man with long, white hair walked up to the spectacle. His pale skin looked almost as though it was shining under the moonlight. Clothed in black jeans and a white jacket, he walked over to the thugs. They paid him no mind, probably thinking he'd even join in. Instead, he came up behind a thug with red hair in the style of a Mohawk and gently tapped him on his shoulder. When the thug turned around to see what he wanted, he was quickly greeted by a punch to the face. The others soon took notice and glared at the young man angrily. The blood-stained boy looked up to see why no one was hitting him anymore and quietly watched what unfolded.


Turning their attention away from the boy, they slowly began to walk towards the white haired young man. They spun their chains, and swung their bats, taunting him as they stepped closer. Taking the lead, a boy with spiky blonde hair charged toward him, furiously spinning his chain. The white haired young man ducked under the chain, and kicked one of the thug's legs, causing him to trip and fall. Finally, all of the ruffians charged in at once, no doubt hoping to overwhelm their new enemy. Instead, the white haired young man, picked up the fallen boy with spiky blonde hair and swung him in an arc, hitting the hooligans, one by one with their own comrade. They fell to the ground, yelling in pain. Seeing they were outmatched, the thugs scattered, fleeing the scene as fast they could. The young boy stared at the white haired young man in awe, unable to believe what he had just seen.

“T-Thanks...for saving me,” said the boy, as he breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned against the brick wall. “Who are you?”

“I'm Shiro,” said the young man coolly as he slowly walked over to the boy. He picked up the fallen teddy bear and handed it to him.

“I'm Kuro,” said the boy, dusting off his teddy bear. He gave it hug, looked up at Shiro, unsure of what to think of him. Then he tried to stand, his legs trembling as he leaned against the wall with one hand. But he quickly fell back down to the ground, looking sick. Blood ran down his forehead. “Dizzy...”


Without saying a word, the young man gently slipped his hands under the boy's armpits and slowly lifted him up. Then, he rested him on his hips, carrying him in the way you would carry a toddler. The boy quietly wrapped his arms around Shiro's neck and his legs around Shiro's waist, looking as though he was unsure of what to say. “This area of town is unsafe for people like you.” said Shiro with a sigh.


“People look at me funny when I use the main street,” said Kuro quietly. “...I don't like it.”

“I suppose you like concussions better then,” said Shiro sarcastically. “Don't fall asleep, I'm taking you to a doctor.”


Shiro carried the boy to the other side of town and walked along the side of the main street. Sure enough people looked at them funny. Some stared. Others pointed rudely. Shiro simply ignored them. A brown haired policeman walked up to them with a raised eyebrow. His mustache moved from side to side as he talked, as if it were hula dancing.


“Why are you carrying that injured child around town?” he asked boldly, in annoying -holier than thou- tone. “Did you do this to him?”

“No sir,” said Shiro with a sigh. Then he looked up and stared angrily into officer's eyes. “My little brother got attacked by a gang of thugs on the way home. I'm taking him to a doctor. If you're looking for someone to hassle, it should be them!”

“A-Ah, I see...” said the policeman, backing down. He held up his hands in front of him, giving Shiro a -calm down- gesture. “I'm sorry...please get him some medical attention as soon as possible.”


The two entered a nearby clinic. It was small, and mostly empty. But the few customers that were there couldn't help but eyeball the odd couple.


“Shiro, is that you?” asked a female voice.

“You know each other?” asked Kuro, turning his head slightly to try and see the stranger.

“She's a friend of mine,” replied Shiro.


He turned to see a young woman, with long, wavy golden hair. Dressed in a white nursing uniform she waved to him and smiled, until she saw the injured child he was carrying. She ran over to them, and inspected Kuro.


“What happened?” she asked in a concerned tone. “He looks terrible.”

“Attacked by some thugs,” Shiro replied simply.


The young woman gestured them into a nearby examination room. Shiro followed, being careful not to hit the already injured child's body on anything on his way into the next room. Kuro watched the other patients pretend to read their magazines as he was carried into next room.

In the examination room, Shiro gently sit Kuro down on a padded table, his legs and dangling freely. The young woman unsnapped his overalls, and pulled them down to his ankles, revealing the thick, plain white disposable diaper he was wearing. The boy blushed. The nurse smiled at him, then removed his long sleeved shirt.


“It's okay,” said Shiro, gently ruffling Kuro's curly black hair. “Goldilocks knows what she's doing.”

“That's Nurse Gold to you,” she said with an angry tone.


She quickly cleaned the dirt and blood off of Kuro with a washcloth and wrapped bandages around his arms, legs, and head. Then, she stood back to inspect her work. Seeing everything in order she gave Kuro a thumbs-up. Shiro helped him off of the table, and held up by his armpits in front of a mirror.


“Geez, any more bandages and I'd look like mummy,” he said with a frown. Shiro chuckled.

“Speaking of mummies,” said the nurse, putting away her medical utensils. “Where is yours?”

“I...” Kuro began, looking hesitant to answer. He looked at the floor. “I don't have any parents.”

“What about a guardian,” asked the nurse with a concerned look on her face. “Who takes care of you?”

“Well, I--” Kuro began, but was interrupted by Shiro.

“I do,” he said calmly. “He's my baby brother.”

“Ah, I see...” said the nurse. “I'll just put this on your tab then, Shiro.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said with an annoyed tone, twitching his eyebrow.


Kuro looked over at Shiro and stared him, but he said nothing. The nurse put Kuro's dirty and blood-stained clothing in a black duffel bag and handed him a large white t-shirt. He slipped it on and it was easily apparent, that it was two sizes too big. It's bottom reached down to his knees, covering up his diaper. He waved goodbye to the kind nurse as Shiro carried him out the door.

The two were an even stranger looking sight now as they walked down the street. Of the few people who were outside this time of time night, most of them pointed or made gestures. Some even laughed.
Eventually, they made their way to an apartment building. It didn't look like anything special. After heading inside, they came to a door with the number 10 on it. Shiro pulled a silver key from his pocket and stuck it in the lock, turning it to the right. The doorknob clicked, and he opened the door, carrying Kuro inside.


The apartment was simple and cozy, having mostly just the bare necessities. Shiro placed Kuro on the large, plush couch that was black in color and took the duffel bag into another room. Kuro examined the lonely looking place. All of the furniture was in dull colors. He squirmed in his seat.


“Ugh,” he groaned softly. “I really need to poo. Been holding it since those thugs chased me.”

“Then go ahead,” said Shiro, entering the room. Kuro jumped in surprise. “I don't mind.”


Kuro looked at him. He was holding a cigarette as he walked into the kitchen area. Turning his back to Kuro, he started up the stove. With a careful swipe of his hand, he lit his tobacco on the stove's flame.

Figuring this to be as good a time as any, Kuro slowly climbed off the couch, and onto the carpeted floor. He squatted, and started to grunt a bit as he pushed from the inside. A large lump formed in the back of his diaper and he breathed a contented sigh as he felt a flood of warm poo squish against his bottom.


“Do you really enjoy shitting yourself?” asked Shiro, now standing behind him. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up toward the ceiling. Kuro frowned, turning red with embarrassment.

“Only as much as you like suffocating your lungs,” said Kuro quietly, wrapping his arms around his legs, as he squatted, hugging himself.


“Is that so?” asked Shiro, not really expecting answer. He laughed loudly. Then he sighed, breathing smoke out of his nostrils. Then put out his cigarette on a nearby coffee table. He slipped his arms under Kuro's armpits and picked him up, carrying him over to a dining table, and sat him down in a chair.


Kuro squirmed a bit as he felt his own excrement mush up against his bottom. After turning off the stove, Shiro moved over to a refrigerator and pulled out a plate of what appeared to be left over pizza. He put it in a microwave and then sat down with it on the opposite side of the dining table after it had finished cooking.


“Dig in,” said Shiro, leaning back on his chair.


“...thanks,” said Kuro, reaching out to take a slice. He picked one up and tried to bring it over to his open mouth, but his hands trembled and shook. He dropped the pizza on the floor. He frowned as he looked over at the fallen food, then at Shiro.


“I see,” said Shiro with a sigh, “You're still pretty beat up.”


Shiro got up from the table and grabbed a small knife from the kitchen counter. He cut up the pizza into small, bite-sized pieces. Then he walked over to Kuro's side of the table and sat down beside him in a nearby chair. With one swift movement, he pierced a piece of pizza with a fork, and held it up to Kuro's mouth for him to eat.


“Um...” said Kuro, looking unsure.

“What's wrong?” asked Shiro, staring into Kuro's eyes with a bit too much intensity.

“What's that?” asked Kuro, pointing to the round black thing on the piece of pizza Shiro was holding.

“This? It's an olive,” Shiro replied. “What you've never had one before?”

“No...” said Kuro quietly.

“What, have you been living under a rock?” asked Shiro sarcastically, as he shoved the food close to his face. “Just eat it.”

“N-no!” exclaimed Kuro, pushing the fork away.

“You've got to be kidding me...” said Shiro with a sigh. “This pizza is going to get thrown away if someone doesn't eat it, and that's a waste. I'll make you a deal. If you eat all of the leftovers, I'll give you something good for desert.”

“Really?” asked Kuro, looking curious.

“I promise,” answered Kuro in annoyed tone, as if he was pissed off by the fact that Kuro was questioning his honesty.

“O-Okay, I'll eat them,” said Kuro with a look of determination in his eyes. Shiro held the first bite up to his mouth and Kuro ate it barely chewing, and almost swallowed it whole.

“Oi, chew your food,” said Shiro shaking the fork at Kuro as if he were scolding him. “I don't know the Heimlich maneuver.”

“Sorry...” said Kuro looking a bit embarrassed.


After he had finished all the pizza, Shiro gave a silent nod, went to the refrigerator, and returned to the kitchen table with bowl of ice cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a cherry. With one tight squeeze he squirted chocolate syrup all over the ice cream, and moved it in a circle, making a ripple design. Finally, he placed the cherry on top, and scooted the bowl over to Kuro, he happily began to gobble it down. Suddenly, Kuro's eyes widened, and it looked at s though he was in pain. He started to cough violently. He was choking. In one leap, Shiro jumped over the table to the other side, picked up Kuro, and patted him on the back as hard as he could without hurting him.


“Gwhack!” was the noise that came out of Kuro, as he coughed up a whole cherry. Tears were in his eyes. He was continued to cough for a few seconds.

“Idiot! Didn't I tell you to chew your food?” exclaimed Shiro in an angry tone.

“Hello?! Chew ice cream!?” screamed Kuro. Then he started crying, no doubt from the pain in this throat.


Shiro sighed, and walked over to the refrigerator as he carried Kuro, and looked inside. He pulled out a glass of milk. He held it up to Kuro's lips, telling him to drink it. He did, barely. Most of it got in his shirt instead of in his mouth. Kuro tried to help Shiro hold the cup, but with his unsteady hands he just made it worse. Finally fed up, Shiro sighed and carried Kuro and the glass milk down the small hallway into another room.

As soon as the door to this new room was opened, Kuro's eyes were assaulted with bright colors. He had to close his eyes for a moment so that they could take time to adjust to the drastic difference. When he re-opened them, he looked around what appeared to be a nursery. All of the furniture was extra large, big enough to fit even him. He examined the room in awe. Shiro set him down in a padded crib, then walked over to a nightstand and pulled out an oversized baby bottle. He left the room for a moment, but soon returned and tossed the bottle over to Kuro who juggled it for a moment, then caught it with both hands.


“Go to sleep,” said Shiro. “I'll take you home in the morning.”

“...But...” began Kuro, but Shiro was already closing the door behind him and turning the light off. He quietly put the nipple of the bottle into his mouth and began to suck on it. He laid back in the crib and stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, his eyes began to droop, then they closed, and he drifted off to sleep.


When he awoke, it was quiet except for sounded like sirens in the distance. It was also very dark, causing Kuro to hit his head on one of the crib bars. He whined as he rubbed his forehead.

“I need to pee...” he said quietly to himself. “Well...it's not like anyone's watching me.”

He sat back against the crib, and closed his eyes as he relaxed his body. He breathed a relieved sigh as he felt a flood of warm pee spread across his groin. He opened his eyes and peered into the darkness. He sighed and struggled as he tried to climb out of the large crib. He managed to get out, but because the crib was kinda off of the ground, he couldn't know where to place his footing. Of course, Kuro found this out only after he fell on his bottom, making the mess in his diaper even bigger. The poo in his diaper pressed up against his bottom, reminding him of what he had done earlier. It became gooey after coming in contact with his pee. It stank pretty bad.


“Ick,” said Kuro aloud. “I need a change.”


Kuro fumbled around in the dark nursery and it wasn't long before he started bumping into furniture. He heard something fall off of the nightstand and hit the floor. He crawled around on his knees, and felt for it with his hands. It was hard to see in the dark nursery, but it appeared to be a picture frame. He couldn't tell what the picture was. He continued to crawl around on the floor, avoiding furniture as best he could until he found the door. He reached up and turned the knob.

Without hesitation, he crawled out into the hallway. No lights were on except for one. He crawled over to it, and pushed open the door. Inside was Shiro, fully clothed, and sitting on the toilet seat, smoking a cigarette. He blew a cloud of toxic gas up toward the ceiling. It dissipated as hit it.

“What are you doing?” Shiro asked, raising an eyebrow as Kuro crawled over to him with a picture frame in hand.

“I couldn't sleep,” he said quietly.

“No,” said Kuro before taking another drag of his cigarette. “I mean, why are you crawling?”

“Oh! Um...I dunno? ...I wasn't thinking,” said Kuro blushing deep red with embarrassment. He looked at the picture he found. It appeared to be a picture of Shiro being hugged by a young lady. The young lady was wearing a sky blue blouse and a dark blue skirt. Her short hair was light brown and in pigtails. Shiro was wearing only a white t-shirt...and a diaper!?

Kuro looked up at Shiro as he continued to smoke. Then he looked down at him, inspecting Shiro's pants. There was no bulge. Kuro stared at him curiously.

“What's your problem?” asked Shiro, noticing Kuro's gaze.

“Um...how come you don't wear diapers anymore?” he asked in a quiet voice.


“What makes you think I ever wore diapers?” asked Shiro, raising an eyebrow.

“This picture...” he replied, holding up the picture for him to see.


Shiro's eyes grew wide and wild. They looked as though they were filled with a mix of anger and sadness. With one quick movement, he snatched the picture frame from Kuro's hands, and slammed it down on the bathroom sink's counter. He put out his cigarette on the picture, smearing ash all across the faces in the photo. He closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. Then he took a deep breath, and sighed.


“Whoa...” said Kuro, not believing his eyes. He fell back onto his bottom in surprise making a squishing sound as he sat down. “Um..sorry I asked...”

Shiro sighed, “It's nothing you need to worry about. Go back to bed.”

“O-Okay...” said Kuro quietly, crawling towards the bathroom door. Shiro glanced at him, seeing his diaper sag. He put his palm to his face and sighed as he watched him crawl away.

“Wait,” said Shiro, standing up. He walked over to Kuro and picked up. He carried him back to the nursery, kicking open the door on his way in. He clapped his hands, and the lights flicked on.

“No wonder I couldn't find the light switch...” said Kuro observantly.


Shiro placed Kuro on a white padded changing table and pulled off his t-shirt, exposing his diaper. He slowly untaped it, and was soon assaulted by the smell of poo and pee. He cringed. Kuro blushed.


“It's not that bad,” he said defensively. “No worse than those cigarettes you smoke.”

“Oh, really?” said Shiro sarcastically. “Then I guess you won't mind staying in this diaper until morning.”

“N-no!” Kuro yelled. He pressed his index fingers together in embarrassment. “Please don't leave me like this. …I'll be good.”

“Heh, I guess there's a cute side to you after all,” said Shiro with a smirk. He gently ruffled Kuro's hair.


He reached under the changing table and pulled out a tub of wipes and a container of baby powder. He wiped Kuro down with the wipes, using both sides. When it came time to clean his bottom, he lifted Kuro's bottom up by his ankles and wiped under him as if he were a baby. After he was done wiping the mess away, he poured baby powder into his hands, and then massaged it around Kuro's diaper area.
Finally, Shiro pulled out a fresh diaper from underneath the changing table and set it under Kuro's bottom. Once he lowered his legs, he pulled the diaper up between Kuro's legs, and tightly pulled each side, securing the tapes on the front.

“There,” said Shiro, wiping his hands with some spare wipes. “All done.”

Kuro sat up on the changing table and inspected the diaper. He looked up at Shiro and smiled. Shiro looked down at him with surprise.


“That's the first time you've smiled since I met you,” said Shiro.

“...Um..” Kuro began, looking at the floor. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” said Shiro, showing Kuro his own smile.


He picked Kuro up again and placed him in the crib. Then he put away the changing supplies. As he headed toward the door, he was about to turn off the lights when Kuro stopped him.


“Um...can you leave it on?” Kuro asked, looking embarrassed.

“Yeah,” answered Shiro. He chuckled, then closed the door behind him.


Kuro laid back in the comfortable crib and stared up at the mobile hanging above it. What kind of person was Shiro really? Who was the young lady in the picture? ...Why did he save me? These are all of the things that he wondered as he slowly closed his eyes and entered dreamland. ]]> Stories in Progress Mikyzu http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16290-our-world-warning-violence-sugesstive-themes.html An Evaluation Of My Diapered Self http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16070-evaluation-my-diapered-self.html Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:53:01 GMT This is a HUGE WIP, I plan to make this into a thesis/self evaluation more so than a traditional "Story" so, tell me what you think of it. Do I use "I" too much, what can I do to make this gold? Constructive Criticism only please, thanks.




Prelude

In 1914 the German and French armies collided at what would be known as the Battle of The Frontiers on the German and French borders. The Germans smashed the French armies and pushed towards Paris. Within one months time the German army was crossing the river Marne and were within 30 miles of Paris.
The military Governor of Paris, General Galliani sent a desperate appeal to the supreme French commander, General Joffre. In his Galliani’s appeal he reports that the French forces were inexperienced, under supplied, and had out dated equipment to fight the Germans. He needed reinforcements to defend Paris from the Germans and needed them fast.
Galliani commandeered all of Paris’s taxis to ship his men to the front. Joffre soon appeared at the front with reinforcements The German army launched their attack against the en garrisoned French army, the Germans suffered horrendous casualties. They were pushed back away from the limits of Paris, the Germans terribly underestimated the strength and the willingness of the French army. The Battle of The Frontiers was a disaster on both sides of the combatants, the rest of the war on the western front would be fought in the trenches, with no major gains being made by either side.

Introduction
The names displayed in this reading will be made up to protect those of the person the names are based off of. Though the names will be made up, the situations that will be examined will be based off of real life encounters. Our main character, the one who’s events are being told, will be simply referred to ad “I”.
There will be three(3) stages of his life examined in this text, The Early Years ages 2-4, Adolescence ages 11-14, and The Teen Years ages 14-17. We will briefly go over The Early Years and as we move on the preceding stages will be more heavily examined. This is because the desire for diapers will become more prominent as time goes on. And thus we begin…we begin our journey into my mind.
Well first we must know who “I” am. I am currently 17 years old, I am a male, I currently reside in the United State of America. My personality is a little different from most people. I am a quiet person, not very social around people I do not know, not very out going. But in the grand scheme of things I guess you could call me the average American teenager. I live in the suburbs. I was born into an Upper Middle class family and I go to a small closely knit school of people. It is a public school by the way. My family consist of, including me, 4 people. A Mom, a Dad, and a younger sister, and then there is me.
I am a little different from the average teenager because I work… A LOT. Currently I hold three jobs. I work at a lumber yard, I film football for the High School Team, and I film Football for the Youth league. I also run my own online Ebay company. So, I have a lot of demands that are placed upon me in the work world. It isn’t too bad, because it was my desire for money and success that drove me to amass these jobs. Because of my work I don’t have much time to hang out with friends. I am a quite guy, so this is sometimes a perfect fit for me. But, at other times I get extremely lonely and just wish for some companionship. That happens a little more often now than it has in the past, but not to the point where it gets really severe. So, over all I am able to function well with all of the work demands that are placed upon me.
Now, as for school, call me a geek, intellect, whatever. Those words describe me very well. I am an intellectual and a Geek. I love history. I have taken every AP History course offered by the school’s Social Studies curriculum. I also have a liking for Government and Economics and as a result I am currently enrolled in AP U.S. Government and AP Micro and Macro Economics. So as you can see I am very well articulated in the History, Economics, and Government aspects of my studies. But, as for the res of my classes I am your average Joe. English I am just taking the required one, same has gone for Science. The one class where everyone looks upon me as the “Retard” is mathematics. It is a wonder I have passed my math classes in High School career. I had just recently Fail Alg. II in my junior year and as a result have had to take it over again. I get made fun of constantly for this by my friends. This takes a huge toll on my self esteem and self confidence, BUT I know that in the future it will make me a stronger man. I do however have some friends a few close ones, but the rest are mainly In-School-Friends. I do however have Summer Friends, where I vacation ever summer. I have known these great people for 15 years. I only do get to see them for about 3 months out of the year and as of last summer I saw them maybe 4 times if that. Summer is my time of play, it ended up being only 4 weekends out of the year last summer and now the rest of the year is going to be focused on work and school work.
As for my relationship status, that is N/A by that I mean it is not available, because I have never had one. I have never even asked one out before. I get upset by that occasionally, but most of the time I push that thought out of my mind. I would like to have one, to know what one is like, but I sometime think that I would ruin anyone that I get because I work way too much. Like I said…at times I get quite sad knowing that I have never had one, but the sadness is short lived.
You must be wondering with my life being all work and very little play how am I able to maintain my sanity? How did he not spill his brains on the floor yet? How is he not reduced to nothing? Does he get totally smashed the very little time he spends with friends? Does he trip fucking balls when he is at his cottage? Well none of those are correct; this is the way I look at it… Some kids do drugs, some drink, I wear diapers. ]]> Stories in Progress diaperedteenager http://www.adisc.org/forum/stories-progress/16070-evaluation-my-diapered-self.html