Melissa

I hummed and tapped my foot. "Well...." I finally concluded. "...I honestly have no saying in this situation seeing how we can't really DO anything and people can now see them and that's a very big problem."

Sarah

"Whatever,Melissa. Think what you want. Either way,you ARE helping!" She huffed. "Fine. G'Night!" And she marched upstairs.

Melissa

While I marched upstairs,I started to think. What if people from CARTOONS came alive?! I shuddered to think of Ken-Sama,(Kenshin Himura from a samurai anime called Rurouni Kenshin) coming to life and greeting me face-to-face. He's usually happy and not easily ticked off,but if you DO tick him off,then you BETTER stand back! I also shuddered when I remembered that he used to be an assasin. A DOUBLE nono! "What a scary thought..." I mumbled. "....Other characters coming to life."

Sarah

"Sarah,there is also something we need to tell you." Sora announced. "Oh,no,not MORE bad news!" I whimpered. Cloud knelt down. "We have bad news..." "Ohh......" I moaned. He put a hand on my shoulder. "...Sarah...there are OTHER Characters. Some..who are..hunting us." I gaped. "ARE YOU SAYING THAT THERE ARE MORE?!?" They all nodded,slowly. I blinked. "This just keeps gettin' better and better!"

Melissa

I stared at the ceilene,then shuddered again. "Oh,no..." I chuckled. "...What if the Organization also came to life? Of course,they wouldn't have their powers,but they'd still be scary..." I sighed. "Although,it WOULD be nice to meet them..."

Sarah

"Hello,Miss *******" I heard a voice above me,as I laid asleep. I gasped and stared up,when I felt a firm,cold,gloved hand clamp over my mouth. With the person shooshing me,I reconized them. It was Xemnas.

Melissa

I heard someone speak to Sarah,then,I heard her muffle a yelp as someone covered her mouth. I was about to ask her if she was okay when someone did the same! "Sh! Do ya wanna get us caught,girl?" A man exclaimed,quietly. I glared up into a pair of green eyes. Then,I noticed those eyes had little triangles underneath them. And red hair..... "MMF!" I tried to yell. It was Axel! Axel shook his head,then clamped his hand more tightly around my mouth. "AGAIN,SH!"

Sarah

Xemnas was strong,but I was still stronger. I threw his hand back and stood up to turn on the light. Once the light lit up,the two squinted and covered their eyes. I sighed. "Whatta ya mean,get caught? Who are you hiding from? My parents already know the others are here. And I believe you lost one of your little members..Zexion? He's with me." Melissa wiped her shoulders. "Yeah,you guys can stay here. Her parents will DEFINATELY welcome you!"

Melissa

"And FYI,I was being sarcastic,seeing as how many poeple actually took me seriously even when I said something,sarcasticly!" I jumped up and slapped Axel. "OW! What..?!" "That's for telling me to shush! NOBODY tells me what to do!" I glanced at Sarah. "Well,maybe not nobody..."

Sarah

"Pfftt..you never listen to me,buddy! What are you saying?!" She giggled. "I don't know!" I grinned,then looked at Xemnas. "Where's the others?" "Downstairs." He answered. I nodded. "Good. Come on. Let's go see 'em."

• What Say You?

~♥ This is one of my drawings!! I don't really like parts of it...v__v but it's one of my OKAY ones!!! ♥~

~Kristi*

• What Say You?

How do you reply to people mostly?

Comment people back in reply?

OR?

PM?

~Kristi*

• What Say You?

How old are you? SevenTeen

What color's your hair? Black

What's your name? Kurisute

What's your favorite colors? Rainboww colors

What's your favorite season? Summer

What's your favorite holiday? Christmas

What's your favorite song?I'm going to put my favorite songs in the other laguages I know too.’†•¶ favorite song: ♥�S—�—L�É-”ò—ÖŠC/“ú–{Œê favorite song: Aroma-ƒAƒ“ƒeƒBƒbƒN�|àÛàè“X�| American song:Skillet-Forgiven 

Favorite five bands? ƒAƒ“ƒeƒBƒbƒN�|àÛàè“X, Skillet, ƒMƒ‹ƒKƒ�ƒbƒVƒ…,Toby Mac, ƒAƒŠƒX‹ãåj.

What's your faorite movie? LOTR

• What Say You?

Okay, so I said I wasn't doing TOI anymore... I lied.  I'm re-writing it!  Here's the re-written first chapter.

Chapter One: The Whisperer 

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the soggy ground as the autumn moon rose over the trees and shone through gossamer spider webs hanging in the branches. A mouse stuck it’s head out of it’s hole beneath a large old oak. It blinked at the moon and looked at the Tower, it’s wet nose quivering.

To the mouse, the Tower of Noran Mir looked almost heavenly bathed in the moonlight, each of its four sides glinting with the golden images of a hand. Music and laughter drifted through its open windows, carried by the breeze into the forest. All was at peace. All was well. Had the mouse thought to, it would have smiled at the sounds of celebration. But it was frightened away.

A tall man stepped out from behind the oak tree, his face shrouded from view by a heavy black hood. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he gazed at Noran Mir. The moon glinted off his eyes; black they were, and cold as steel. They sparked with vehemence at the Tower and the sounds of happiness that came out of it.

“Soon,” he said to the Tower in a dead whisper, “Soon you will be bowing in the dust before me.” He patted the sword that hung at his side, and smiled a grim smile.

There was a slight noise somewhere behind him. He whipped about, dagger in hand, dark eyes probing the black shadows of the night. Seeing nothing, he sheathed his dagger, cast one last bitter glance at the Tower, and stealthily made his way into the deep shadows of the forest.

The path he followed was an old creek bed, which winded through the forest like a snake. Deeper and deeper it went until the man was reaching the very heart of the forest. He could just hear the sounds of harsh shouting and drunken laughter, and could see the red glow of fire up ahead, when suddenly a rough hand grabbed his shoulder from behind and he felt the sharp edge of a knife tickle his throat.

A figure stepped out of the shadows. The dokkal’s face, grey and grim, could barely be seen by the moonlight. “What’s the word?” the dokkal demanded in a deep voice.

“Shade, you idiot!” the man hissed. His captor let him go with a gasp.

“By the Snake, Elamstar!” muttered the dokkal, “We didn’t know it was you! With your hood...”

“Be glad I don’t have time to deal with you now, imbecile,” growled Elamstar. He turned and strode toward the campsite.

As usual, he was greeted by a drunken brawl. He scowled at his soldiers, but they were too busy fighting or drinking to notice him. He crossed the camp, dodging the fighting Dokkalim that came in groups or pairs, and stepping over the sprawled forms of sleeping soldiers, slowly making his way to a lone tent erected beside the great bonfire in the center of the camp.

Casting a hostile glance at the sleeping dokkal leaning against the tent with an empty wineskin in his loose grip, Elamstar lifted the heavy canvas flap and entered. He lit a small lamp hanging in the corner, revealing a table with a plate of half-eaten food on it and a cot. On this cot lay a person, dressed in a dingy blue shirt under a stiff leather jerkin. The flickering light from the lamp accentuated the sharp Annwine features of his youthful face and shined in his golden hair.

Elamstar scowled at the sleeping Annwyn. He looked so peaceful, as if he were back in his own bed in his great Fomorian palace in Linaar. “Well, Prince Mornan Fomori,” muttered Elamstar under his breath, “It seems your days of peace are finally at an end.”

A slow smile spread across Mornan Fomori’s face. “Would you mind closing the flap?” the prince asked, “There’s a draft.”

Elamstar frowned. “Stand up!” he ordered.

The Annwyn prince slowly obeyed, clearly enjoying the cloud of impatience spreading over Elamstar’s face. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather me bow to the dust before you, like Noran Mir?”

Elamstar started at this. “You... You didn’t follow...” He rushed back to the entrance where the dokkal guard was still in a drunken slumber. “Fool!” he shouted as he shook the massive soldier to his feet. “I warned you that if you did not keep the closest watch on him, there would be consequences!”

The dokkal stumbled to the ground, wide eyed. “He escaped, sir?” he asked in a hoarse whisper as he struggled to his feet.

“That’s one thing you’ll never know,” hissed Elamstar in his soldier’s face. “Kinnos!”

A large dokkal strode away from the bonfire and grunted a salute.

Elamstar shoved the staggering dokkal toward him. “This idiot isn’t to see the light of another day,” he snarled, “See to it, and replace him with someone more trustworthy.”

“I’ll do it myself,” said Kinnos.

Elamstar studied Kinnos for a moment. There was a certain... something about him that unnerved him. Something almost noble, if a dokkal could be noble. Elamstar waved them off. “See to it.” He went back into the tent.

Mornan was smiling that mischievous smile that never failed to anger him. “I could have escaped, you know,” the prince said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I enjoy baiting you. Your reactions are most amusing.”

Elamstar scowled. “You are not at your palace in Linaar, Mornan. You are as helpless as a rabbit in the claws of a vulture.”

Mornan tilted his head to one side, as if studying Elamstar. “You’re right,” he said finally, “You do look like a vulture.”

Elamstar regarded the Annwyn with distaste for a moment. Then he smiled slowly. “Would you like to hear the latest news of the war, my prince?”

A stoic mask immediately dropped over Mornan’s face. He sat down on the edge of the cot and stared at the flickering lamp. “Go on,” he said quietly.

“Very well,” Elamstar leaned against the table and watched Mornan’s face. “Our troops,” he said, “Have destroyed all the ships in Isai Nor. Without their sailor friends, the soldiers of Noran Risas gave up without much of a fight.”

Mornan’s face remained emotionless, but Elamstar could sense the shock of the news quickening the prince’s Annwine blood. Shock, replaced by bewilderment, and then... hope?

“Did you find what you were looking for?” asked Mornan suddenly, his blue eyes piercing into Elamstar’s.

Elamstar was taken aback at first, but then shrugged it off. “So, you’ve guessed,” he said slowly, “But, no. Your fool of a brother escaped with it.”

There was no mistaking the triumph, and pride, in Mornan’s voice. “As long as Naramir has it in his care, you can forget about taking the Sarilan.”

Elamstar shrugged. “Who cares about that sword anymore? We have a better one now.” He straightened and threw his coat back. He drew the sword that dangled at his side, it’s elegantly curved blade rasping as it came out of it’s scabbard. Elamstar held it almost worshipfully in the dim lamplight. “Do you know it, my prince?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes never leaving the polished steel blade. “Can you feel it’s power? Can you hear it screaming for a battle? For death?” His eyes narrowed at Mornan. “It’s bite is hungry, it’s fire is unforgiving. Do you know it’s name, Mornan?”

Mornan gazed at the shimmering blade. He saw how easily the hand of Elamstar gripped it’s handle. “Rimastan,” he said reverently, “The sword of King Dore.”

“Rimastan,” said Elamstar, “The sword of Elamstar.” He sheathed the sword and leaned against the table. “Do you realize the gravity of it all? Rimastan is in the hand of the one it otherwise would have fought against.”

“I assume you are thinking of the prophecy of Seer Ash?” Mornan asked.



“That if Sarilan and Rimastan fought against each other the Towers of Iron will fall?”

Mornan narrowed his eyes at Elamstar. “Surely you don’t believe that,” he said, “Seer Ash was a madman!”

“Was he?” Elamstar smiled, “Not a nice thing to say about my great-grandfather.”

He continued to speak, but Mornan couldn’t hear him. The detail of the tent, Elamstar’s face, and everything else blurred and blended together in confusion. Mornan instinctively leaned back and let the feeling take him.

Elamstar stopped speaking. His eyes narrowed as he saw Mornan’s eyes close. Then uncertainty gave way to fear. He realized with shock that Mornan was passing into salimin, a trancelike state in which the Annwine people were said to receive visions. Elamstar grimaced. Visions from... Lor.

Elamstar spat and leaned against the table, waiting for Mornan to finish speaking with his god.

Elamstar.

Elamstar smiled. He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Yes Master?”

All is ready. You need to attack now.

Elamstar nodded. He opened his eyes and stood.

“You will fall.”

Startled, Elamstar looked at Mornan. The prince had come out of his vision and was smiling up at him.

“Oh, yes,” said Mornan slowly, as if savoring each syllable, “You will surely fall. The strength of Lor is on our side.”

Elamstar struck Mornan across the face with the back of his hand. “Don’t you say that name again,” he snarled. He turned on his heel and strode out of the tent, leaving a smiling Annwyn prince behind.
“Kinnos,” he growled to his general, “Is all ready for the attack?”
“All is ready,” said Kinnos, his voice showing no emotion, “The troops are assembled just outside the wood, as you ordered.”
“Then,” said Elamstar, his voice jubilant, “Order the advance.”
“Yes, sir.” The dokkal drew his scimitar and lunged through the camp, followed by half a dozen soldiers.
They ran down the winding path faster than any horse could have, and soon they burst out into the clearing. Kinnos laughed a grim laugh as the rush of the impending battle swept over him. He lifted his great battle horn he carried at his side and blew a resounding blast. With a tremendous shout the Dokkalim troops exploded out of the darkness of the forest and swept over the clearing toward the walls of Noran Mir. Overhead great round stones hurtled through the night sky and burst against the stone battlements. Kinnos saw them and grinned wildly. The catapults were doing their work.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Inside, General Nimoran leapt up from his seat in the Great Hall. “Everyone to the walls!” he commanded. There was confusion as tables and chairs were overturned and people scrambled for the doors. Men hurried everywhere, herding the women and children deeper into the Tower and seizing weapons and armor.
General Nimoran stood on the wall, staring in horror at the great mass of Dokkalim charging the walls. A flaming thing hurtled towards him from the blackness of the night, roaring through the air.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Mornan opened the tent flap, just enough to peek out. The camp was almost empty, only a few drunken Dokkalim sprawled out around the diminishing fire. A slow smile spread across his face. He stepped out, keeping to the shadows as much as he could as he crossed the camp. No voice called out, no pursuing footsteps were heard... And he ran.

• What Say You?

Phoooey, nothing new or exciting...

Mmm...our dog Archie isn't doing very well, so we might have to take him to the vet today.  Hopefully he gets better. Otherwise that would be 2 dogs we loose this year and so then we're down to one. o_o *sigh*

It's how life works...>_>

later

kristi

• What Say You?

WHAT'S UP EVERYONE?????? I HAVEN'T BEEN ON HERE IN FOREVER. WELL...I HAVE, BUT NOT BLOGGING. LOL. =D IT'S ACTUALLY KINDA WEIRD COMING BACK ON HERE CAUSE I KNOW PRETTY MUCH NO ONE BLOGS ANYMORE. =/ OH WELL.... LIKE I SAID TO KRISTI (STARDUST) "FACEBOOK IS TAKING OVER." HAHAHA.  WELL....THAT'S IT FOLKS. TTYL. BYE

      ~SHAREEN~

• What Say You?

wow...people don't talk as much as they used to on here....v___v how boring.No wonder I left.

~kristi*

• What Say You?

Okkeedokey, yay!! I have a "chat-box" on my blog now!  If you scroll down to the end of my friend list on my page it should be there! ^^

~Kristi*

• What Say You?

quit.!(:

• What Say You?