Post by Beebs on Apr 4, 2008 0:41:11 GMT -6
"I am no one. Child of man, friend of none...only destruction follows me. I am different than everyone else...different emotions, different thoughts, different existence. I'm both everything and nothing at the same time; no term quite defines me.
I obey no one, but I suppose you could say I am commanded. A man by the alias of Knox orders me, uses me for something greater...I am different than everyone else. I have...powers, one might say. The ability to see things that are not there and hear noises that make no sound. I look past the reality that you all are forced to perceive.
I am different than everyone else...which not only sets me apart, but isolates me. What I have in strength is what I lack in everything else. In pursuit of my goals I can answer any question, solve the unsolvable. But there's one question, one mystery I can't seem to unravel. What am I?"
"What do you mean 'she sees things'?" a small man with short, scruffy brown hair asked a blond woman sitting across from him. His intense green eyes drooped as he glanced down at his coffee. He nervously scratched his unshaven chin, seeming quite jittery to the patrons of the Mansfield Cafe. The man appeared to be around 30 and was wearing a stained white t-shirt with a simple pair of blue-jeans. He had scrawny arms and legs, but made up for it with his distinctive facial features and quick-witted personality.
"It means what it means, Tom," the woman replied, staring him down with her just-as-intense blue eyes. She was embarrassed by her husband's nervy disposition and shielded her face from the people staring at their booth. Her long, wavy blond hair draped her broad shoulders. She appeared to be a little younger than the man across from her and wore a sensible tan suit, which was quite short around the thigh. Her beautiful face was accentuated with a deep shade of red lipstick. "No more coffee for you," she muttered.
"But what does that mean?" he responded, now rhythmically tapping the table with a spoon.
She sighed, halting him with her own hand, continuing, "Look, all I know is what they've told me. Apparently she's good at seeing things that others have missed."
"So what, she's like some kinda 'Super Detective' or sumthin?" he questioned sarcastically. "This is bull and you know it."
The woman squeezed her eyes shut and lightly groaned. "Jesus, Tom, I'm doing this for you. You're the one that's so hell-bent on proving your sister didn't kill herself."
The man looked slightly hurt, turning his head away from his wife. She couldn't help but feel guilty, so she lightly put her hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry, it's just I want to help you get through all of this. This woman might be the solution."
"May I take your order?" interjected a young waitress with her hair messily tied up.
The woman at the booth sighed and answered, "I called an order in fifteen minutes ago. It's under Wilma Forbes."
The young girl popped her bubble gum. "Alrighty then, comin up," she said before walking back towards the kitchen.
Tom began to stare out of the window and onto the busy streets of Dark Bay City, constantly seeing the image of his dead sister in his mind. He shook his head violently of the thoughts and looked back at his wife, and said, "Yeah, I know. What'd you say her name was again?"
"It was something odd...started with a 'D'," Wilma began. "Dargleam, I think."
I obey no one, but I suppose you could say I am commanded. A man by the alias of Knox orders me, uses me for something greater...I am different than everyone else. I have...powers, one might say. The ability to see things that are not there and hear noises that make no sound. I look past the reality that you all are forced to perceive.
I am different than everyone else...which not only sets me apart, but isolates me. What I have in strength is what I lack in everything else. In pursuit of my goals I can answer any question, solve the unsolvable. But there's one question, one mystery I can't seem to unravel. What am I?"
Dargleam
Written by B.B. Valentine
Written by B.B. Valentine
"What do you mean 'she sees things'?" a small man with short, scruffy brown hair asked a blond woman sitting across from him. His intense green eyes drooped as he glanced down at his coffee. He nervously scratched his unshaven chin, seeming quite jittery to the patrons of the Mansfield Cafe. The man appeared to be around 30 and was wearing a stained white t-shirt with a simple pair of blue-jeans. He had scrawny arms and legs, but made up for it with his distinctive facial features and quick-witted personality.
"It means what it means, Tom," the woman replied, staring him down with her just-as-intense blue eyes. She was embarrassed by her husband's nervy disposition and shielded her face from the people staring at their booth. Her long, wavy blond hair draped her broad shoulders. She appeared to be a little younger than the man across from her and wore a sensible tan suit, which was quite short around the thigh. Her beautiful face was accentuated with a deep shade of red lipstick. "No more coffee for you," she muttered.
"But what does that mean?" he responded, now rhythmically tapping the table with a spoon.
She sighed, halting him with her own hand, continuing, "Look, all I know is what they've told me. Apparently she's good at seeing things that others have missed."
"So what, she's like some kinda 'Super Detective' or sumthin?" he questioned sarcastically. "This is bull and you know it."
The woman squeezed her eyes shut and lightly groaned. "Jesus, Tom, I'm doing this for you. You're the one that's so hell-bent on proving your sister didn't kill herself."
The man looked slightly hurt, turning his head away from his wife. She couldn't help but feel guilty, so she lightly put her hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry, it's just I want to help you get through all of this. This woman might be the solution."
"May I take your order?" interjected a young waitress with her hair messily tied up.
The woman at the booth sighed and answered, "I called an order in fifteen minutes ago. It's under Wilma Forbes."
The young girl popped her bubble gum. "Alrighty then, comin up," she said before walking back towards the kitchen.
Tom began to stare out of the window and onto the busy streets of Dark Bay City, constantly seeing the image of his dead sister in his mind. He shook his head violently of the thoughts and looked back at his wife, and said, "Yeah, I know. What'd you say her name was again?"
"It was something odd...started with a 'D'," Wilma began. "Dargleam, I think."
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