Insert Pen Name Here 's Stories

Amber and Sarah (3)

2008-10-09T03:07:39Z

Now, I live in the whitehouse. I share a suite with my best friend, eat awesome meals, wear cool clothes, and have fun. I also train six hours a day, see my parents once a month, and stand around at formal functions pretending to be someone else. It’s a trade off, really. But Sarah is fun. The real Sarah, I mean. She’s my best friend. We call each other “Dearest Doppelganger”. She teaches me about boys (I’m clueless, having already been a professional bodyguard when I hit puberty) and I teach her about fighting and stuff. We have a lot of fun together.

But this isn’t about that. This is about what I did last year. The thing that got me in major, major trouble. The thing I never should have done. The thing I’m so glad I did.

Amber and Sarah (2)

2008-10-09T03:07:07Z

If this is getting confusing, let me explain. On my eight birthday, when I was showing considerable physical and mental skill in pretty much everything I tried, two strange men came to the door. I know them now as Mike and Brady, two of the nicest Secret Service officers that the president employs, but then I knew them as some strange guys that were totally ruining my birthday by telling me that I was going to a new school.

This “new school” turned out to be an academy for training undercover security guards. Once I got over the shock or learning that most Dolley Madison had acually been a trained super-spy-hitman-combo, I did really well. Exceptionally well. And due to a combination of my kung-fu powers and my stunning resemblance to the president’s 10-year-old daughter- well, you can guess what happened.

Amber and Sarah (1)

2008-10-09T03:06:17Z

If you don’t believe me, I don’t blame you. I mean, I wouldn’t believe me! Really, who would have thought that the president’s daughter- well, isn’t his daughter! Well, she is, but she’s not always the daughter you see by his side when he makes speeches and stuff- usually, that girl is me.

Ya know, it really is like a giant lie. Every time I SPEAK , practically, I’m lying. I mean, it’s a cover- a deep cover- the deepest ever, really- but it still feels like a lie. I’m actually glad that it does, because I don’t want to forget who I really am- which is Amber Ventanari, age 14, daughter of Jules and Maria Ventanari, who lived in Boston, Massachusets until she was ten. When she became Sarah St. James, daughter of the president of the USA , and butt-kicking protector of said president.

Heather's Journal 1

2008-10-09T03:03:57Z

Journal Entry #1
Friday, September 2nd
Name: Heather St. Clare
Age: 14 (nothing to be sneezed at)
School: Santa Rosa High School
Town: Santa Rosa (who’da thunk)
State: California
Country: USA (aka United States of America- that big, squarish one between Canada and Mexico)
Family: Live with: Aunt Sarah, Uncle John, Cousins Charlotte and Lance. Real Family: Mom (Helena St. Clare)- being a star in Hollywood, Dad (Chester St. Clare) deseaced. Brother (James St. Clare) in college at Ohio State.
House: Big, green, tall windows, creaky staircase, sunny kitchen nook, large square bedroom with plush blue carpet (shared with Charlotte).
Best friend: Charlotte St. Clare, commonly referred to as Lottie, cousin, room-sharer, and best friend.
Other friends: Karen Angelou, Mikey Carter, Sunny Snyder.

The Chief's Musings (1)

2008-10-09T03:00:49Z

The cheif’s lined, tired face was knitted into a frown. He played nervously with the pens on his desk, thinking hard. Inspector Macky wasn’t one of his trusted men- he wasn’t, in any case, one of the cheif’s men at all! He was a complete stranger, an unknown factor- but the cheif would have to take the chance. Besides, the cheif told himself, it wasn’t going to be a particularly diffucult case. Just the usual attempt at murder. All Macky would have to do would be to find the motive, and the case would be closed.

As the cheif finished his thoughts, a small, weedy man bobbed his head through the door, quickly ducked out, then appeared to change his mind and ducked in again. He continued to do this for a few minutes, and the cheif watched in a sort of detached annoyance. Finally he snapped,

“What is it, Jenkins?”
Jenkins started and slunk into the room. “U-um, well, there’s someone here to s-see you- i-it’s-”
Cheif sighed and waved his hand impatiently. “Send him in, man, send him in!”
In he came.

MORE QUIZZINESS FROM IPNH! OH YEAH! BOOYAH! UHHUH, UHUH (victory dance), YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT!

2008-10-09T02:44:29Z

Yep, that’s right. Another fantabulous, awesomtastic, scrumdiddlyumptios quizzity-quiz from me, Insert Pen Name Here! Or more commonly known as IPNH , or Lane. :)

More awesomly random questions, yes, but this time: A twist! A very twisty, twisting, spirally twisting thing…um…

Anyway: this time, after answering the questions, please sequel your answers with a story inspired by one or more of the questions. It can be the actual question, a word, or just an idea that you have while answering. But, if you don’t get inspired or can’t think of anything, don’t fret :). If you just want to answer the quiz, that’s fine.

1. What do you want to be when you grow up? If you are grown up, what did you want to be and how does it compare to what you are?
2. What is the strangest thing in your eyesight right now?
3. Have you ever owned one of those fabulosity-filled pencils that is totally covered in glitter???
4. Other than Ficlets, what is your fave website?
5. What was your latest dream?

Have fun :).

A Poem

2008-10-09T02:09:13Z

A sigh,
a wordless greeting;
soft, and slow, and fleeting;
escaping from your lips
containing sparkle,
and romance…

Your eyes,
so soft and shining,
with a dark and velvet lining,
as they look into mine,
I hear the fanfare
of a dance…

The Charmer, Part 1

2008-10-05T16:28:23Z

It was a small street, winding and cobblestoned. A sign reading “Charmer’s Way” stood leaning and creaking in the chilly wind. The street was lined with tiny, shabby shops. It was deserted, except for one lone figure.

A tall, thin man with a black tailed jacket and sharply creased pants shuffled along Charmer’s Way. He hunched his shoulders and kept his eyes on the ground. Altogether he was a shady looking customer. Through the shop windows, various others stood, looking like cardboard cutouts as they stood still, watching the man and hoping that he didn’t come into their shop..

But they had nothing to fear. The mysterious man hunched into a shop halfway down the Way. It was dark in the shop, except for a circle of light over a large desk. The light came from a clear, bright globe of light that hung unsupported over the head of a young woman sitting at the desk. She leaned over a shining pile of tangled necklaces, bracelets, and other chains. As the bell over the door tinkled, she looked up.

“James!”

The Big Bang

2008-10-04T17:13:52Z

A darkness,
negative,
it is nowhere (where everything will be..)
hanging pregnant
waiting for the start of time-
there is no past
no present
only the future

then,
a whisper,
a quiet whirring of gears as time becomes real,
and for the first time, we are moving forward-
and for the first time, we exist-
in the tiny, gelatin body of the humblest bacteria-
that quietly falls through space,
into the first water-
on the first planet-
in the first world-

And time, new and fresh, works it’s magic.

We are here.

The Carcar (24)

2008-08-05T05:31:36Z

Finally, after what seemed like miles of farmland, we found a main road and bumped onto it.
“Do you think we lost them?” asked Eric, glancing behind him. He was turning out to be pretty good with the car, even staying pretty much in one lane. All the same, it was good that we were the only ones on the road.
“Yeah. This baby goes pretty fast, Eric.” He laughed.
“It should,” he replied, “It’s a Nascar car.”
“Carcar?” I laughed.
“Yeah, carcar! Haven’t you heard of it? It’s even more popular than the cancan!”
Laughing, I told him I thought we’d better get some coffee in him or he’d go completely crazy/
“Yeah,” he said, finally stopping his laughter, “I’m pretty beat. It’s been an eventful night.”
We sobered up straight away.
“Well,” I said, “I guess you still don’t know the full story.”
“Nope.”
“Um…well, it’s kinda crazy-”
“Ava?” Eric glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “At this point, I’ll believe anything.”

Eric's crazy Grandma just saved our lives (23)

2008-08-04T21:34:53Z

“No!” I said. “Look, Eric, can you even drive?”
Eric grinned again, and it was so infectious I couldn’t help but grin back. “Of course not, but I’ll learn!”

From behind us, the sound of running footsteps and shouts sounded through the night. “Ok, well you better learn now!” I said, reaching over and turning the keys that were already in the dashboard. The car revved, and I was surprised to find it as quiet as a cat’s purr.
“Eric,” I said slowly as he put the car in drive, “What the heck kind of a car is this???” The car leaped forward as Eric pressed his foot against the gas. He and I were thrown back into our seats as the car whizzed across farmland at a phenominal speed.
“My Grandma’s!” Eric shouted over the noise of rushing wind. “She bought a racecar and customized it to look like junk!”
“What?” I screamed.
“She was a little crazy!”
“I- A little? Eric, this is- this is-” Eric looked at me as we crashed through seemingly endless corn crops.
“Fantastic!” I finished, and we rushed on.

Jianna, Part Two

2008-08-04T15:56:43Z

“I don’t think so, little girl.”

“Well, sadly, it doesn’t matter what you think.” the girl replied.

“Doesn’t matter???” Malder was furious. His goons muttered and shifted, taking better grips on their weapons and leaning almost inperceptably towards the girl. “I am Malder!! The greatest leader this gang has ever seen! I lived before you, and I will live after you!” He charged, roaring, towards the girl.

She seemed to speed up, like a movie in fast forward. In the blink of an eye she had whipped a thin, glittering rapier out of her jacket and was racing towards Malder. In comparison, Malder’s movements seemed slow and clumsy.

In a matter of seven and a half seconds, the girl reached Malder, ducked under his clumsy paw, and cut his head off.

The square was deathly silent.

“I am Jianna.” the girl said, “And I am greater than all the gangs.”

The world exploded.

Jianna, part one

2008-08-04T02:04:02Z

The girl was small, slight, and had a purposeful look about her. She appeared to be about 14 or 15. Clad in a thin, billowing leather coat, she strode confidently across the square. Others hid and cowered on the sides of the open space, their hands on resting on swords and javelins.

The girl was alone, but the man she approached was surrounded and backed by dozens of tough, muscley goons. He himself was tall and rough with a mocking sneer spread on his face.

The girl walked into a patch of light and stopped. Her face was thin and her nose was knife-sharp. She had blue eyes that were unexpectedly focused, like a laser beam from the sky. Her hair was brown and very short, with sweeping bangs. She had a high forehead and pert lips, that opened to speak three words with intense presicion and care.

“You’re dead, Malder.”

Ready to ride? (22)

2008-08-03T23:33:30Z

“Gack!” I squealed as I flew out the window and landed on top of Eric.
“A- You’re—crushing me!” Eric voice was muffled and I quickly rolled off him.
“What was that!” A voice exploded into the air from inside the house.
“Uh-oh.” Eric scrambled to his feet and I followed suit.
“Come on!” He grabbed my hand and started pulling me around the house.
“How old are you?” he panted as we ran.
“Fifteen!” I gasped. “Why?”
“Damn! Me too, I was hoping you had your drivers liscense-” Eric skidded to a stop in front of a what looked to me like a very old, very big car.
“Oh, no.” I said, backing away. “Oh, I am NOT letting you drive that.
“Ava! Come on! Would you rather die by those guns, or possibly die in that car with me?”
“I guess I’d rather die in a car. God, I can’t belive I just said that-” Eric grinned at me and got in. I darted to the passenger seat, got in, slammed the door, and buckled my seat belt. Eric put his hands on the wheel and looked at me, grinning.
“Ready to ride?”

I really, really hate small windows (21)

2008-08-03T23:15:20Z

I wiggled around, testing my situation, and discovered that Eric was right. I was stuck, and stuck fast. I wasn’t fat- far from it, I was really thin- but I was what you might call “curvy”- ie, I had a big boobs and big hips. And my traitorous hips were now keeping me from leaving the pantry.
“Damn it!” I said through gritted teeth. Eric stopped pulling and stood, panting. “What are you doing? Get me out of here!” It was taking all of my strength not to bend at the waist and hang down the outer wall. Eric noticed this and came closer, holding me up. I sagged, exhausted, and he whispered in my ear, “What are we going to do?” I could feel his lips moving and my only, stupid, juvinile thought was:

“Why do I have to die when I finally found a cute guy?”

Eric pulled on my arms again and I snapped back to reality.
“Ow! Eric, you’re gonna pull my arms off, geez!!!” He stepped out of my line of vision and I felt him take hold of my belt loops.
“One-” he said
“Two-” I said, tensing my muscles.
“Three!”