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 Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 9:13 am
I'll post my fanfiction, about how i ******** my dad in the a** here, you can read and if you want go to my story and reveiw heres the link.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3279366/1/
The fanfiction is written in a way that you don't need to masterbate to ir, but it would help if you did.Vonnie the contradiction rock, in my a**
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 9:15 am
Folken’s woe:
The ship Vonnie was like all Zabach ships, it was a rock that seemed to contradict the laws of physics just by existing. Only Lord Folken knew how it worked, the key was not to tell anyone else how a contradiction rock worked. Folken relied on the other of the ship to say and think.
“This rock can’t fly.”
“This rock crap of a ship isn’t fast enough.”
It was like the rock actually liked contradicting people. If rocks were alive, Folken sighed thinking about Vonnie gave him headaches. He remembered the ship Dulper which had promptly fallen out of the sky when the sorcerer announced how the rock worked. The similar thing happened when Lord Dilandau had decided to try fling Vonnie, Dilandau must have come to the realization that Vonnie could indeed fly, sending them hurtling towards the ground. If it hadn’t been for Chesta screaming that they were going to die, and they were falling. Needless to say Chesta’s panic attack was contagious and soon all the dragon slayers were running about screaming. The rock happily contradicted them and started to hover, not before it decimated a small farm with the sonic boom.
Folken had the rock land as he and the dragon slayers inspected the damage. There was one survivor which Lord Dilandau made into an unofficial dragon slayer. Lord Folken just watched seeing the predatory glance Dilandau gave the farm boy was unsettling. Dilandau announced that if the farm boy was ever to tell anyone what happened today he would feed him to a dragon.
Needless to say the farm boy peed himself and nodded. He followed the dragon slayers into the ship like a lost puppy, giving a last glance at the farm; before entering the contradiction rock.
Lord Folken moved to his window and gazed out a the bluish sky, the week before Vonnie left port had been quite interesting Zanzab a fellow sorcerer who thought Folken should lick his boots had been attacked by a prisoner in public. The prisoner had punched in Zanzab’s nose; it was a rather large target. The best thing was that nobody helped Zanzab in capturing the female prisoner, everyone was laughing at the man. Zanzab had curled up in a dark corner away from the ports to lick his wounds; well that was the rumor anyway.
“Folken!”
Folken sighed it was the hotheaded young Dilandau who refused to address him properly Dilandau had come in to most likely vent about the new orders. He unlocked the door and let raging albino in. Before he could say ‘what is it Dilandau?’ Dilandau started his tirade the moment he stepped through the threshold.
“Why can’t I burn Fanel to the ground?!” Dilandau threw a table against the wall. The table had the gall to look at Dilandau wrong, so it suffered the consequences.
Folken stood there not really listening with his cloak wrapped tightly around him. Lord Dilandau was a closet case if Folken had ever seen one. He did see a lot of them too; the majority of the dragon slayers were shagging all the time, in closets, gumelef cockpits (the name c**k was there so it must be a good place for sex), heck even in the hallways. Same went for the foot soldiers but they were even worse, they were so bad that Folken refused to go down to their barracks, the whole place smelled of expired sex, and urine.
“Are you listening?!” Dilandau barks.
“Yes Dilandau…” Folken says in his dry voice while continuing the vacant gaze as he tries to listen to the rant out of desperation because there was nothing else to do.
“The new boy is a Flamer!” Dilandau finishes.
For one of the biggest closets case in Zabach; Dilandou was extremely homophobic, and yet he never caught on that Volie was the fairy of Vonnie. Life sometimes works like contradiction rock.
“Move him into Volie’s room then.”
Dilandau seemed sated with that advice and left of course he slammed the door. Leaving Folken in the wrecked room Folken sighed inwardly it was a miracle that Vonnie was still intact; but it was a contradiction rock. He started on some mundane paper work that had to do with the farm. Not even five minutes later the door opened, Folken looked up to see Gatti, who saluted before giving his message.
“Lord Dilandau needs your help.” Gatti said in an official manner before running out of the room clutching his behind.
Folken paused he knew it was most likely a prank to get him out of his room. So they could steal his stuff again. However Folken got up just incase Dilandau did need his help, invoking the wrath of the albino was not a good career choice, if one wanted to keep there appendages burn free.
It was a prank; Gatti brought Folken to the mess hall and had tried to lock him inside, the attempt failed because you can’t lock the mess hall doors. Gatti had then tried to distract Folken on his stalk back to his room, tried because Folken had run him over several times.
Gatti had left his side as soon as he arrived at his door. Folken messaged his temple his room was in more disarray then when he left it. Some of his clothes were missing, magical trinkets stolen, he checked his bed. Sighing in relief that it hadn’t been tampered no worms or dirt
(where had they gotten the worms?) with Folken went about tiding his room. He dearly wished that they were given something to do or the pranks might escalate as they often did during long periods of nothing to do not that Diladau reprimanded them, in fact he egged them on and offer small rewards for the best prank.
Perhaps he should land Vonnie and let the slayers destroy the country side, as long as they stayed out of his hair, Folken was all for the slayer taking down a small town. Such callousness only evolved when intelligent people were forced to endure the stupid people’s antic during war time or any other time for that matter. Sighing folken looked up at the rock and with all the belief he could muster announced to the rock.
“I lord Folken find that this rock could not possibly find a small town in the country side and possibly land near it.” Folken felt the rock shift it’s direction he smiled bitterly before he prepared himself for a nap.
end
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Posted: Mon Feb 26, 2007 9:16 am
Ask the owl
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chesta wandered down one of the halls on Vonnie; He squinted the dim blue light gave off a rather blue tint. So when Dilandou told him to turn right at the first red arrow, well let’s just say Chesta was still looking for the elusive red arrow. The slayers besides Volie never went to art classes because it was “unmanly”.
“Red arrow, red arrow…no it’s purple again!” Chesta sank into despair he was going to get lost, and die in the maze of halls that was Vonnie.
“I can see me now, a skeleton in the corner all alone!” Chesta wasn’t a very bright slayer, for if he was dead why would it matter that he was alone?
Chesta never caught on to anything logical so he soon was wailing loudly. He stopped he saw a person coming towards him. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing anything. He saw blue hair he got up and launched himself at the person.
“Folken!” Chesta screamed as he attached himself to the said sorcerer who was slightly disheveled and half naked.
Chesta paused in wiping his face off on Folken’s robes. Folken was coughing. He wasn’t patting his head either Chesta tighten his grip on Folken.
“Are you okay?”
No response well Folken was a man of few words. Chesta debated about telling Folken about his current problem. Finally the urge to complete Dilandou’s order won over the small desire to be proud and not ask for help.
“Um…Folken, could you help me find the first red arrow?” Chesta waited and in response Folken’s body shook as if he was choking on something.
“First purple arrow you saw turn.”
It dawned on Chesta that Dallet switched all the red arrows out with purple. He let go of Folken’s body and tore down the hall as his tears came back. ‘Now Folken thinks I’m stupid’ Chesta thought. Chesta proceeded to run back to the first purple arrow
Dallet giggled like that ugly cave man looking school girl that always seemed out for male blood. His next prank was perfect. Honey in Folken’s hair he was sure to win the prize for the best prank now. There was just one slight draw back the target was not in his room, so Dallet wandered the hall that Folken’s room resided. He saw Chesta run by glaring at him, he was crying again.
Chesta was still looking for the first purple arrow, however the halls in Vonnie were round so….Chesta wasn’t making any headway in his search at all.
Dallet shrugged that’s how Dilandou got rid of Chesta stupid jobs. Like making him speed walk around Vonnie.
“What may I ask are you doing?” Asked an intimidating voice.
“Uhhhh…” Dallet looked at a half naked Folken, the man looked pissed. He looked at the jar of honey if it held the answer to the meaning of life.
“Let me help.” Folken snatched the honey and dumped it on Dallet’s head.
“Now run along.” Dallet ran like the wind clutching his behind as he fled.
Gumel fluffed the last pillow and placed it on Chesta’s bed; he wore a very becoming maid outfit. Chesta arrived crying again, he didn’t need to know why; assuming that Chesta had finally realized that Dilandou sent him on those faux errands to get Chesta out of Dilandou’s hair. Gumel didn’t have time to comfort his son (not a slip of words I assure you) right now for his precious was coming home again, well to his room again. The sweetest word whether spoke softly in the heat of love or screamed by Dilandou was “Volie” Gumel melted.
Chesta started to sniffle he was running out of tears even with his frequent tearing card. Mind you he was diamond holder, the little company just south of Fanel was proud to have Chesta of the dragon slayers their top customer.
“Are you guys going to play house again?” Gumel nodded to Chesta’s statement.
“Chesta, you’re the best son anyone could ask for.” Gumel watched as his ‘son’ brightened at the complement. Chesta hugged Gumel.
“Thank you mommy!” He cried.
Okay, it was weird for two guys about 15 years old to play house, but to include Chesta like he was their son, a little too disturbing for some; but Chesta didn’t mind. After all he felt loved in this ‘family’ and he never really had a mother. So Gumel was the closest thing he was going to get. Not only that but now when he heard the word ‘mother’ he pictured Gumel in his maid outfit; as for father that name still invoked the dreary form of Lord Folken.
Thinking of Folken, Chesta worried that the man might be coming down with the black lung disease. He had over heard from a conversation that Dallet and Miguel were having about the said disease. It started as a tiny cough, and eventually your hair turns blue and you fall apart.
‘Gasp Folken’s hair is blue and he’s missing an arm!’ Chesta’s realization came a bit late as he found himself being tucked in by both Gumel and Volie.
Dallet had trouble washing out the honey from his hair.
“How dare Folken do that to me? I’ve never deserved this; even if I did shred your paper work, graffiti your room, dirt in your bead, bugs in the bath, Listerine in your wine, smuggling things out of your room, planting porn, raise you underwear as a flag, and called you a fantastic fairy behind your back.”
‘Well maybe I did deserve it…’ the small conscience was crushed by Dallet as he fumed about the ‘unfairness’.
Miguel looked up Dallet had been in the shower for a long time. He sighed, he wouldn’t be able to take a shower now, not that he was that dirty in the first place. He waited for Dallet to emerge for Miguel wanted to know about the prank and if it worked. Miguel would never actually ask for Dallet would talk openly if it was a success, and well if Dallet had not succeeded so Miguel figured he wouldn’t talk about it if he failed.
Miguel sighed and looked back at his etch-a-sketch he had 99 more triangles to go to draw his tower Eiffel was done. He was unsure exactly what a tower Eiffel was the new kid had told him. Miguel desperately hoped that now with the new kid he would stop being the scapegoat for the farm boy was twice as quiet as him and younger too. The boy even seemed to rub lord Dilandou the wrong way without even speaking! That had to count for something.
“Hey Miguel” Gatti greeted as he entered the room he flopped down on his bed.
“Gatti” Miguel responded as he was once again consumed in his etch-a-sketch.
Gatti his day besides being devoted to Dilandou was well full of Dilandou. He was after all Dilandou’s right hand man; he had to help Dilandou-sama with his letters and speeches. He was under the impression that Dilandou needed him, not that Dilandou was lazy and would rather have someone else writing his letters and speeches. So Gatti always stayed around even though Dilandou yells at him most of the time. Gatti was sure that was Dilandou own special way of saying ‘thank you’
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