Ethie

She saw no difference in the way most of her friends in university dressed, all in various shades on either the darkest or lightest end of the colour spectrum. Perhaps with some bright blue or green thrown in once in a while, but it was rare that one of them clad themselves in red or yellow or orange or pink. Which she always thought was a shame; it was almost as though they had been given a right to be the prettiest of girls, the girls that everyone wanted themselves to be, good-looking and intelligent with seemingly little effort or thought. Yet these were the people that shied away from the brightest hues, the colours that were the ultimat

VIRUS base. A place of peace, quiet, calmness, and love. Or at least, that's what it appeared to be on one fine Monday morning... At least, a Monday morning in the GMT +8 time zone that was. With slaves- I mean employees- from all continents over the world, one wonders whether Cyberpolis' resident vigilante group could be considered a multinational phenomenon on the same levels as Facebook and perhaps 4chan. Though that analogy doesn't necessarily work, seeing as both Facebook and 4chan have boobs. But I digress. It was certainly an unusually quiet day; the halls were empty, the corridors were clean, and even Devious Dragon's lab was free f

one . disenchanted Not many people knew this about him, but he'd once been much more subdued than he was today. And not just in terms of actions and words: he had been subdued even with his relationships with people, withholding every "I love you man" and each "You're fucking amazing" with just a small smile and a thumbs up. Way back when he was younger, he'd been the quiet kid in the corner, observing from the sidelines instead of partying up a storm. He'd have been the guy to take care of everyone when they got drunk, the kid who tried to calm a pair of raging morons down, the nice person who took in everyone else's problems with an under

one . adorable He was definitely right up to his neck in madness, inflicted with some strange disease, drowning in a pool of his own stupidity... And he had no idea how to get out of the rut he'd fallen into. Not that he had ever been sane per se, but at the same time, this was really a new level of idiocy that he'd never thought he'd reach. Some called it madness, he called it love. But he wasn't sure whether she felt the same way: jabs and eye-rolls one second could turn into cuddles and bear hugs the next, with her whispering into his ear that she never wanted him to let go.  He knew that she could have been his much earlier if he hadn't

Because she knew that she could untag the photographs, shred the love notes, delete every message in her inbox. She could throw out the dried flowers and wash her hands clean, hell, she could drop them in hydrochloric acid if she so wished because at that point all she wanted to do was just forget it all. But the one thing that she couldn't ever do was erase the memories that they had left behind. She could never erase his smile. His laugh. The way he wrapped his arms around her and called her by her full name. And as she watched almost everything the two of them had shared together go up in flames, red and yellow and shades of gold, she wra

I was a skinny, snot-nosed, whiny brat with mousy brown hair and teeth that jutted all over the place, and it a sweet load of convincing for me to take that first step onto a skateboard. Hah! Can you believe it- I was actually a shy kiddo, y'know? But yeh, didn't wanna do it at first, not till my dad ruffled my hair and called me a wimp. Said that I was missing out on something good, and when you're a little kid daddy knows best. He'd been one of those skate punks back in the nineties- was only seventeen when he had me, too, but damn if he didn't try to be a good daddy and damn did I know it. So I lifted a foot, set it onto the board. Almost

One of the first things that you'd forced yourself to learn when you woke up was that the world wasn't a nice easy place to live in. The planet Earth was a cruel vindictive place that would push you down if you weren't ready to shove your way through it, a place that had no space for weaklings or for people that couldn't cope. It didn't care how old you were or where you came from, didn't give a shit if you were blind or deaf or had numbed yourself so that you almost were. So when fate had ripped your wings out and cast them into a crumpled heap, you'd decided that you were going to fight back kicking and screaming. With your heartstrings an