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SE Ch. 2- Walls"Expressions." The man in front of the chalk board backed away. His writing was in white chalk. Big and bold, 'expressions', "Don't give me that, 'Oh I'll never use this' look." He tapped the board with a finger. His white hair was a little long and messy; he wore a nice suit and a red tie. He had red eyes and a nice and pointy smile. He closed his eyes and smiled a little thinking of a problem, "You know I had to do this once too." He grimaced, "Just never thought I'd have to sub for a bunch of rotten teenagers," He mumbled, "Evaluate the expression 4 × z + 12 when z = 15." He wrote it down on the board.
The class room was set up as it always was. Rows stacked behind then above another, almost making a half circle covering the room. All desks were connected and the kids scribbled down notes, trying to figure out the problem he wrote on the board. The man was at the very bottom down the steps, with a chalk board and a small desk which he leaned on as he watched the children. All M
SE Ch. 1- WallsThis is a Soul Eater Fan Fiction. My characters are mine and mine only. If you want to use them for some odd reason, please inform me. Don't be rude about my writings, they are mine and I write them down for entertainment, for me and some others. Thankies!
"2+5=?" The teacher looked at the small round tables of four. He scanned the room, some hands were raised, some were occupied with its fingers being counted, and then some were fiddling with the other, "Jackson?"
A boy with brown hair smiled, his hand was raised. Both front teeth were gone on the top they showed gaps as he spoke the simple answer of "Umm 7?"
The teacher smiled and nodded, "Very good." The boy made a pleasant sound showing he had gone accomplished, "Now who can answer 10+4?" He smiled knowing that was too many fingers. This time it was time to call on someone not raising their hand. "Hmmm " He scanned, "Eva?"
A small girl with cream hair looked up and tried to clip her blue clip back in
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More