A/N: Vacation begins today, posting a few things before I go, should be back by Sunday. Trying to peck away at What Could Have Been, as well.
Having a few friends look after the house for me in the meantime, as a favor. They're good lads.
I'll be taking my computer with me, so I'll try to post if possible, but I can make no promises. October really messed up my update schedule with all those crises happening one after the other, I'm hoping the next few months will be better. I am TRYING to catch up in November, but everything is all over the place.
Alas, it seems site notifications are busted at the moment.
Folks get them in the app, but not on the web browser, which is becoming a proper pain for some of us. Hopefully they'll fix it soon...though it has been almost a month days with no response about the emails...
If this chapter gets a ton of feedback as well-hopefully!-then I'll do my best to ensure a weekly update again. If not...I don't know. I really don't.
Amazing what a bit of feedback can do. Really spurs me to write faster.
In other news depression's starting to hit even harder these damn days. Like a sledgehammer paired with concrete.
Sometimes I wonder why I do anything at all. I can't claim to understand what's going wrong with my head anymore. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way! One moment I'm fine, then my mood craters for a few hours, then I'm back again for a bit, and the cycle repeats. On and on, round the bend, forever and without end! Its rather annoying; as though I've become a prisoner in my own mind sometimes. Sure, what's one more mental problem on the pile. Not like I don't have enough, what with already being this old. Feels like every day is a battle sometimes. Meanwhile, my doctor insists that I'm fine. Take a health walk he says. Go fishing. You'll be fine.
*siiiigh*
Right. Suuuure.
Don't bloody feel fine, doc.
As ever, I own no quotes, references, quotes, themes or memes! They're simply tributes to legends far greater than I.
I'm just an old man who writes as a pastime. I don't make any money doing this, not a single cent.
I've kept you waiting long enough, lets go.
"This isn't you!"
...of course it is. This has always been me.
From the moment I was born, this is what I was made to do.
~?
Twenty-Third Fragment
Dying is easy.
Living...that's the hard part.
Conversely, Naruto found it all too easy to pull the trigger.
It was downright effortless really; point, aim, and shoot. A single twitch of his finger and his target slumped ahead of him. They tried to rally and keep running, and they even managed, until he squeezed the trigger again. Another red tear bloomed across the victim's body, almost unseen against their jacket...or so it was, until he blasted off their right arm. The cry of pain was music to his ears, a mournful dirge of vengeance for the fallen. It wasn't enough; no, not nearly enough. Vander would've told him to stop by now, asked him to restrain himself, to show mercy, but what good had mercy gotten him?
Dead bodies.
Ashes unto ashes.
Dust to bloody dust.
No more. Not one more. Another shot took out the man's knee, sending him sprawling into the street. The evening skies rumbled overhead, dark clouds promising rain. Behind them the refinery burned, consumed in a fell haze of fire and Shimmer, belching smoke into the sky. He told himself that was what had him choking, the furious tears springing to his eyes.
He knew the real reason.
But all things must come to an end.
The chamber clicked empty at last, and he shot it a baleful glare.
He looked at the tool in his hand, then scowled. So this was a gun. He was suddenly inordinately grateful that the Elemental Nations never invented them. Jutsu were dangerous enough, but this...this was death. Any fool with one of these could cause untold destruction, so long as they had proper aim and ammunition. But after all this man had done, all the pain he'd caused, it seemed almost impersonal to end it this way...unsatisfying.
With a growl, he cast the pistol away and stalked after him.
"So uncivilized...
Silco righted himself with a groan and tried to crawl away.
A boot stomped down on his ruined knee, pulping it underfoot. He cried out. "Those fools really meant something to you, didn't they? Such a shame." A raspy laugh escaped him. "If only you'd stopped holding back sooner, you might have saved them-
Another stomp rendered his words a garbled gasp. Good. He didn't want to hear him speak.
"They'll live." he rasped, not daring to speak of Powder's eyes, or the hideous wounds Mylo and Claggor had suffered, to say nothing of Vander's broken back and fractured skull. As for Vi...no. Don't think about that. Could he heal arms that had been battered so badly? There was only one answer he would accept. He had to. He must. He would. "The world will go on without you...
He reached down for Silco, eyes snapping into scarlet slits.
...because you won't be around to see it, you bastard."
A hand closed around the madman's face.
Five firm fingers clamped down.
He closed his eyes.
And squeezed.
CRUNCH.
A/N: Aaaaand scene.
Hope this brought a smile to your face.
Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this story, and others. Meaning folks don't like this, it won't be continued. If the story itself ain't popular/well-received...well, I won't be able to continue it. I'm working two jobs, holidays are here too, meaning I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy.
So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
As ever, reviews keep this old man alive during this dark and crazy time. I ain't joking.
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas... Review...Would You Kindly?
No previews here. Time for an old man to rest awhile.
R&R~!