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she was fine

I am fine. I am fine. I am fine. Her figure was hunched over a corner, sobbing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I am fine. I am fine. A cold gust of wind scraped mercilessly into the alleyway. Her rapid breathing soon fell into a rhythmic pace as she tried to calm herself. It was just an illusion. I am fine. The streetlamp above her flickered to life, the orange glow casting the woman’s solitary shadow onto the dark pavement. There was still crimson red staining the tips of her fingers. She was fine. Cassandra’s eyes glowed bright green before reverting back to a warm brown. ~   Agent 801 paced the length of his office. His teammates had gone missing over the past week, and all five of them had gone missing without a trace—he had investigated their trails personally, yet he had not a single lead. He had been lying when the old lady at the supermarket asked if he was okay. He was not fine at all. Something was off. Really off. All evidence just said that they had vanished into the ai
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Note by T.P.

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To Defy Fate

He was just a boy from Oar’s Rest. No, no. They had told him time and time again. He was the hero of the kingdom, the one that saved Naedidor from complete demolition. They had even held a festival in his honor, dancing around the bonfire, chanting his name as the ashes floated into the night sky.   He was only eighteen, he had only just reached adulthood. They regarded him as the boy who was a man, the man who was the manliest of them all, the man who embodied the spirit of great warriors. The embodiment of courage itself.   He missed her. The king of Naedidor had a daughter his age that was still yet unmarried. The king given him jewelry, land, power, anything that a sane person would desire—the king also assumed that a fine young man like him would want a beautiful wife, and so he offered the hero the hand of his daughter.   He wanted to turn down the princess, he really did. The princess had confronted him the day before he had officially finished his quest. He
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Hello there!

I don't have much to say today, but I just dropped a new way of downloading my not-so-interactive prequel to a series of interactive fiction stories that will be coming along the way. (Soon, I hope.) Here's the link to my Tumblr blog where you'll find it. (It's roughly 6 MB big, the file is fairly small.) And as for those with a keen eye, you might have noticed me uploading a tad more frequently yesterday. To catch you up with what I've uploaded, there are three stories in total:  Blood & Tears Unsung Et Tu, Brute The Storm Keeper  ...with the former two which were old stories on my flash drive that I never had the chance to upload, and the latter which started out as a school essay that I have decided to expand into a chapter fic. That's all for now, and have fun reading!
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The Funeral of Gaius Julius Caesar

  44 BC, The Roman Forum, The Funeral of Gaius Julius Caesar             “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,” Marcus Antonius addresses the crowd who have gathered at Caesar’s funeral. Brutus had just left, claiming that Caesar was an ambitious man. Antonius keeps his attention on the people. “I have come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; the good is buried with their bones; so let it be with Caesar.”             “Brutus had told you Caesar was ambitious. Brutus is an honorable man; so are they all, all honorable men . Gaius Julius Caesar was my friend, faithful and just in my eyes—yet Brutus claimed that he was ambitious. Caesar had brought so many captives home to Rome whose ransoms filled the general coffers—did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar had wept. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.” Antonius can see the people nodding, agreeing with his words. He continues his speech.        
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The Theater of Pompey

  The Ides of March, 44 BC, The Theater of Pompey             Gaius Julius Caesar is shocked when his childhood friend, Publius Servilius Casca, tries to stab down on his shoulder. Casca is unlucky — his dagger barely grazes the skin, and only a trickle of blood drips down. Caesar tries to get away from Casca, but Casca is faster, and he grabs on to Caesar’s toga. None of the senators dare move.             Casca calls out to his brother, Titiedius. "Brother, help me!"             Titiedius springs forward, and then chaos ensues.             Caesar wrenches free from Casca, rising from his seat. He st an ds up to face Gaius Cassius Longinus with a blade drawn, who slashes his face. Caesar doesn't know what's happening. Caesar backs away from Cassius, but then he bumps into Titiedius, who is already waiting. It is too late, because now Titiedius has his dagger in between Caesar's ribs.             Caesar shouts out in pain. With blood leaking from his
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A Small Sacrificial Ceremony

  March 15 th 44 BC, A Small Sacrificial Ceremony             As Rome’s chief priest, Julius Caesar now stands before a small crowd, readying for a sacrificial ceremony just before the senate meeting. His wife had warned him not attend the meeting. She had a bad feeling was how she described it. Now Caesar puts it in the back of his mind. The ceremony is about to begin. That’s when he spotted the haruspex Spurinna across the crowd. The man had warned him that his life would be in danger no later than the Ides of March just a few days ago. Maybe his wife had unconsciously repeated Spurinna’s words?             And now he stands, upright, healthy, and in no way dead.             “Spurinna!” Caesar shouts playfully at the man, “The Ides of March have come!”             “Yes, the Ides have come, but they have not yet gone.”             Caesar laughs heartily, but why does he feel like his stomach has been turned over? # →  Part 9:  T he Theater of Pompey
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