Masashi Kishimoto owns Naruto. I own only a cardboard box.
GO HOBOS
Delusional Fame
Chapter One
Well, my first encounter with these peoples left me in what I assumed was an insane asylum. And I have to say, the nurses were crazier than the patients.
Sure, I roomed across from an old man who communicated through bird calls and a lady—probably in her early twenties—whose possessed giggles morphed into screeching wails, but who in their sane mind would thwack a kid repeatedly in the head to cure him of amnesia? I didn't know that kid—or even understand his speech—but I sure as hell treated him better than those deranged women.
I could see it through the slightly ajar door. He was crying—couldn't be more than seven years—and the nurse, as far as I could tell, was taunting him. The shrillness of her voice reminded me of a whistle. She was shaped like one too—little cleavage, big butt.
As she lifted her shriveled hands, my heart pulled at my chest. There was the panic.
I ran over from my bed, flipping over the hollow frame and thin mattress, bolting straight into the room. I had experience with running into people—though not technically unintentional. The slight thickness and bulge of my thighs and calves held too much momentum to stop. It was the same as always.
My crude game of soccer.
But this was no time to grin sadistically.
At least the boy was intact. I obviously crushed the old woman, sinking into her grandma boobs and cringing at the oddness of the feeling. A whistle blew in my ear unrelentingly and I tried to escape. All I could feel were her dangerously long and sharp nails dragging down my arms.
Was she a cat or something? Because her claws were crazy!
And the boy, I imagined, would be terrified.
I know I was.
The scratching didn't hurt that much—no blood—but I've known myself to both overdramatize and underrate pain. It was all a matter of pride. Here was a moment of overexerted screams and shrieks.
I could only think of one thing: head the ball into the goal.
I think I gave the goalie a concussion.
And then, I grabbed the kid and left.
AN:
Dangit... shift key is broken D:! Well, i'll survive... somehow... using the other shift key. Chapters will not normally be this short-only the prologue. This chapter will be edited once I get some OC's! Yeah, so send them in! Eat some chocolate!
A couple of people have asked if I had a specific OC form to fill out. Ah, no not really... but here's the basics:
Name:
Please make this realistic.
Background:
Where from? Country girl and highschool stud?
Description:
I don't need a sonnet of their beauty. This will not be my main focus.
Example: Drug dealer who was once a hippy in the 80s, switching from weed to... some other thing
Personality:
BIG FOCUS! Hm, let's see... shy? Loud? Whiny? lazy? mean? obsessive? extraterrestrial?
...please not that last one
Talents:
Something not ridiculous. Like the person in the story so far: slightly athletic (though clumsy)
Weaknesses/Fears/Insecurities:
A BIGGY! Warning: I will definitely overplay your weaknesses... it's what makes someone interesting.
Motivation:
What makes them like that? there is always a reason... or like, family? money? food?
Quirks:
What makes them special? Interesting? Please be realistic.
Ex: is a fatty and loves food... will die of high blood pressure someday
REALISTIC PLEASEEEEEE!
okay, so i think that will be good enough... Don't be afraid to PM me :) i don't bite...
~chocolateluvor