Scarletfox

Granted, they have the time to hang out with you, but they choose not to. I wish that I had some fruit snacks.

*radio static* Csh. CSHHHHH Male voice: "Testing, testing, one... two.. three..... testing.... We're on the air, you're good to go, Karol." Female voice: "Welcome back to another great week of Medical Mysteries with Karol Omer. You can help solve problems that will change the world! Let's begin tonight with my friend here, Bob. Bob has an incredibly horrible problem, but that's what we're best at, here at Medical Mysteries. Bob has a special condition called, stinky feet syndrome. We are unsure as to how this problem has arisen, and we need your help! Just call in at 123-456-7890 and we will take any suggestions you have!"

Ahhh! I'm so happy this exists! You're so storming lucky to have a NexStar! I've always wanted one of those!!!

Granted. The first person is me. (I actually had a response partially typed out to join, but then I got intimidated by the fact that I am but a punky teen who named her telescope and doesn't really know much about the sky. I'm already following the thread, actually) I wish I wouldn't get glares from my parents whenever I'm trying to get my telescope out the back door at 11:30 at night.

Fox breathed lightly in as she felt some of the pain being lifted. Was this Nath's doing? How could he shape her emotions like they were mud on a riverbank? She pulled back from the hug, and looked at Nath. Although the pulses of warmth emanating from did not cease, she saw something tinging his eyes that was lacking during the time that she was beating him. Fear. He was not looking very well. He looked in pain. She attempted to lay him down so that she could examine his ribs. "What do you mean you are mortal?" She asked.

The Little Fox stopped, and closed her eyes. She did not let herself feel anything else. She no longer felt the breeze in the forest, or the smell the rich pine wood. She felt emotions, not only anger, hate, and fear, but also gratefulness, love, and passion, however... she could not attribute the feelings to clear memories of any kind. The only memories that she had that were not hazy, were the ones given to her by Nathrangking. I am their commander. I am in control. She thought. This is my home. What is right? What should I do? Fox stood, her voice soft. "I... I think I know what I need to do." Leaving the sword on the log, she walked over to Nath, knelt down, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "My heart does not tell me to trust you yet, but it does tell me to help you. There are things going on that I do not understand. My memories still tell me that I should hate you, and that you killed my brother, however you say you have not, and my heart tells me to believe you. I... I should not have hurt you. I... am sorry." The regret of her actions slammed into Fox like a scoop of ice-cream's impact on the sidewalk. A tear slipped out of Fox's eye. "Please forgive me, Nath." She tried to bring him into a hug.

"I... I don't know." The Little Fox closed her eyes, Nathrangking was not in good enough health to do her any damage. "It... I'm trying to listen to my heart... but nothing's responding but the immediate. There's nothing.... deeper...." Her eyes came open. "Gah! I can't get it!"

The Little Fox's sword slowed between her fingers. Nathrangking showed strength as he sat up and attuned his attention on her, despite what she had done to him. As he paused to cough, the Fox was suddenly concerned. Had she damaged a rib? But what did the Little Fox care how this murderer felt? As she heard the words being spoken directly into her brain, the Little Fox looked deep into herself. Her mouth betrayed her thoughts. "I.... I don't often listen to my heart. What does my heart tell me? My heart tells me to be angry for the death of my brother, yet... angry at my brother. It tells me to stab you through the heart, but it also gives a warmth when your name is spoken. It tells me that Winter is my guardian angel, protecter, and savior, but it indicates that I am... missing something. How can my heart be dependable if it is so contradictory?"

Granted, you will no longer be able to participate in the RPs. I wish for some Chick-fil-A sweet tea.

As the pathetic Nathrangking spoke, a sensation of familiarity filled the Fox and turned her to stone. The woods melted away around her and her sight was replaced with that of another. She saw a lost, young, bloodied, redheaded girl flailing a knife around. She was talking to the girl, and gave her a jewel encrusted knife. She could see the pain, both physical and emotional in the girl's face. The girl had to no one to turn. She would help this girl by taking some of the pain upon herself. But then the girl was stolen by a figure sporting metal wings. The scene changed and the girl was crying and broken...... She finally found the girl, offering comfort. But the girl was afraid of her, and ran away. Then the girl was beating her with hate filled eyes.** She snapped back to reality. Was... the Little Fox actually this girl? Had she been the misled one? Her memories had certainly been quite fuzzy since the day when Nathrangking had tried to kill her. No. It was more voodoo. Nathrangking was toying with her. The Fox looked into his eyes, searching for... confirmation, if anything, that he was a serial killer. But she saw nothing but love and warmth. The Little Fox felt a rumble coming from deep within her. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr. She instinctually felt hate toward this Nathrangking, however, she would not kill him... yet. Death was either too steep a punishment for one not yet condemned, or too much of a reward for a monster. She would get the truth out of this one. She would get him to sing every last one of his dirty little secrets, the traditional way. No.... For some reason she felt wrong about that. She didn't used to feel wrong about that! Why did she feel bad about that? It was that group of peo- wait. No, it must have been Winter helping her to realize that sometimes you just need to talk things out. The Little Fox gave the murderer another big kick in the side, just because it felt good, before walking over and sitting down on a fallen tree. She twirled the sword in her hand. Nathrangking was certainly acting... different. "Alright, demon. My interest is peaked. I will listen to what you have to say, although I cannot promise that I will believe you."

Where the best places to dump your girlfriend? “Will this do?” I asked, taking the ice cream scooper and using it to scrape out my right eye, plopping it on the table.

He almost seemed like he cared for her... The Fox removed the knife from his throat, her features softening. Why was she doing to this to Nath, her friend? The thought left her mind as soon as it had come. This had to be a lie. This had to be some sort of trick and manipulation. She could not let go years of built up emotion just because Nathrangking turned around from shattering her life to wanting to help her pick it up again. "STOP THIS!" The Little Fox roars, slamming her knee into Nath's jaw. "YOU LIE! YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT ME!"

Hold up, which tree tried to eat you again?* 32, no 34, no, 35, yes. There were 35 pots of honey.

The Little Fox gasped as her brother's murderer ascended from the sky in front of her. She gasped again when he tossed a knife to her, making himself vulnerable. She... didn't think she remembered him doing that before. Surely it was just a tactic, some way he was trying to get her to let down her guard, and then, bam! He'd strike. She eyed the knife suspiciously, wondering if it was a trap in itself, but the Little Fox ended up leaning down, and picking it up. She didn't care if this ended in a trap, it would be worth it to do one bit of damage to this demon. She walked up to Nathrangking, and grabbed him by the hair on his head, lifting his face to hers, meeting his eyes with hers, which were full of hatred, twinged with a bit of fear around the corners. She placed a knife to his neck. "Do you not remember killing my brother?" she seethed, "Do you not remember destroying my future? Do you not remember stabbing me with that knife?"

Horror and terror encapsulating the LIttle Fox. She could not move, not as Korin told her to run, not as Nathrangking spoke... something she could not understand, not as she felt her fingernails cutting into her hands, clenched shut. She stared at Nathrangking, frozen with terror. All that he said got drowned out as she heard his voice whispering in her ear. I killed your brother. I stole your future. I tracked you down. I want you dead. She was disoriented and dizzy, but knew one thing. Korin had told her to run, so she would run. The Little Fox tried to relax her muscles enough to move them, breathing in and out. She slowly turned, and stumbled into the woods. She zigzagged, to the left, to the right, to the left, to the right, just in case Nathrangking was following her. Who taught that tactic to her? Her si- her brother? No, but her brother had been there, or something. @Nathrangking @KyL

The Little Fox looked around, and pulled out one of her knives again, twirling it between her fingers. She glanced at Korin, "I'm going to go practice throwing my knives." She went down the stairs, bringing added pain to her ankles. For an instant, she remembered an emotion associated with these stairs... desperation? She shook her head, clearing it of those thoughts. She could hear Korin's footsteps behind her as she descended. Reaching the edge of the forests, the Little Fox walked up to a tree, and carved a frowny face on it with the knife resting in her hand. She walked ten paces out, then turned around and expertly thrusted it toward the face's left eye. It sunk into the wooden eye with ease. The Little Fox sighed. This was too easy. "Korin," She addressed, pulling out a black strip of cloth she wore around her mouth sometimes. "Tell me if anyone comes, ok?" "I will," He said. The Little Fox wasn't exactly sure how she knew she could trust Korin, or how she knew that his name was even Korin at all, but there was a sense she had about him. The Little Fox grabbed her knife out of the tree, and walked some paces away again. She then lifted the cloth up, and placed it over her eyes, tying it in the back in a blindfold fashion. She rolled her head around a couple of times to make herself dizzy, and sent the knife flying to where the face was again, this time, she hoped to get the right eye. she heard a soft *thunk* as it sunk into the wood. She pulled off the blindfold, and looked to see if she had gotten it. Dagnabbit! Why couldn't she just have one challenge to keep her busy. She retrieved the knife again, and stuck it in between her teeth as she climbed a nearby tree. When she got to the top, She put the blindfold on and leapt from the tree toward the ground, hurling the knife while in midair at the tree, rolling on the ground when she hit. As she hit the ground, she felt a pain in her side. Darned wound. She must have re-opened it. The Little Fox pulled the blindfold up and looked at the tree to see if she had hit the eye. She didn't! The knife was resting right in-between the eyes. She did a little victory jig while fetching the blade, but sighed. She wouldn't be able to do that again, so.... She walked further into the woods, and took a quick glance around to see where the trees were. Then, she pulled the cloth back over her eyes. She grabbed some more knives from her pockets, and twirled herself around, sending the blades flying at different trees in rapid succession. Just then she heard a twig snap behind her. Without thinking, the Little Fox flung her last knife towards the sound, and heard the body step out of the way. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Korin! I forgot you were there!" She said as she began removing her cloth. "I almost stabbed y-" She froze. "I can assure you, I am not Korin." The tall form reverberated golden light. His hair hung to his shoulders, and his eyes were narrowed on the Little Fox's. "No... " The Little Fox whispered, fear coursing through her. "That's right, Fox, I have returned to finish the job." He clucked his tongue. "You really think that the angel can stop me? My dear little fox, no one can stop me." @KyL

The Little Fox stood up, and walked over the stain-glass window in the church, gazing out at the waves crashing against the cliffs. She wondered what Winter was doing. She pulled the scrunchy out of her hair, and ran her fingers through it, dissipating the tangles. Then, she let her fingers fly, shaping the mass into an elegant braid. It was called, the chunky french braid. Her.... someone.... taught it to her, but she didn't remember who. Lifting the bottom part of her hoodie, the Little Fox examined her stab wound. She slipped three of her fingers under the bandage, grimacing at the searing pain. She extracted the fingers, finding them covered in red liquid. She lifted it to her face, and spread three lines of blood coming from the right of her nose going outward on one side, and then the other. Whiskers of blood. A symbol of a new era. The next time Nathrangking saw her, he would know that she was no wounded little fox, vulnerable and easy to snuff out. He would know that the scar he had left behind made her stronger.

The Little Fox laid there with her eyes closed. She was not sleeping. She could not sleep any longer. It would bring back the nightmares. With her eyes still closed, she reached down and grabbed one of her knives from her hoodie pocket, twirling it around her fingers. That calmed her down. She let her eyes open as the knife slowed it's course. She put it back in her pocket, grabbing something else instead. A pad of papers with little drawings of foxes on them. She cocked her head. She didn't remember these very well. The little fox closed her eyes again and concentrated, trying to remember why she had these little slips of paper. For a split second, the Fox was overcome with horror, and images of a man standing over a girl with a gun flashed through her brain, but they were gone as soon as they came, the memory of them fading into nothingness. Hm, the Little Fox must have stolen the papers or something. She placed them back into her pocket. @Nathrangking

The Little Fox was laying on a blanket in a field of daisies, staring at the stars that dotted the sky. She felt something rustle to her left, it was her brother. "Isn't it interesting how significant we think we are, how significant we think our lives are, but we're nothing more than speck in the universe?" Her brother said, voicing his thoughts. "Well," The Little Fox responded not taking her eyes off the constellations, "I think that even if we feel insignificant compared to material things, we can find our significance by impacting immaterial things, like the souls of people." "Oh, Little Fox," her brother said sitting up and presenting a heart-warming smile to her. "You're so smart. You're going to change the world someday." The scenery suddenly changed. The Little Fox and her brother were rummaging through dumpsters together. "Hey, brother, look at this!" The Little Fox said, causing her brother, who was on look out, to hurry over. "I think someone doesn't like the Broncos team! There's, like, forty super bowl t-shirts in here!" He grinned, "Well their trash is our treasure! Here, you take look out, and I'll get these shirts." After heaving the bag of shirts and other little trinkets he and the Little Fox found, she and her brother walked out of the alley and down the street. "Why do we have to take turns looking out, brother? They threw it away because they didn't want it, why would they have a problem with us taking it?" The Little Fox repeated the argument she had made time and time again. He sighed. "Little Fox, like I say every time. We are street-dwellers. We must assume the best, but prepare for the worst." The scenery changed again. She and her brother were fishing, sitting with their legs hanging off the dock into the water. "Hand me another piece of that hotdog, brother, another fish stole my bait!" She raised her hands in frustration, accidentally chucking her fishing pole into the lake. She gave her brother an embarrassed smile. "oops." Her brother laughed heartily, shaking his head and muttering "Oh, little fox," before leaping into the water fully clothed, and retrieving her fishing pole. The Little Fox was laughing too, but when he pulled himself out of the lake, she hastily put on an annoyed mask, and said, "Brother! Why did you do that?? You splashed water all over me!" "Oh, you're welcome! I should've just left your whole fishing pole to be carried off by the fish! You think that splashed you? I'll show you!" Her brother laughed as he set down the fishing pole, and came running at her at full speed. "Oh, dear!" The Little Fox squeaked and tried to get out of the way to no prevail as her brother snatched her up, and sent her flying off the end of the dock into the water. The Little Fox came blundering to the surface screeching "BROTHER!", but she couldn't keep the smile off her face this time. The smile quickly melted as the Little Fox realized it was darker than before. Were those storm clouds? Those weren't there before. Panic suddenly surged through the little fox as she remembered something. She started swimming, frantically trying to get back to the dock, but she couldn't seem to get any closer! Her brother was still standing on the dock smiling, as if he didn't see the look on her face or the clouds above. "Brother!" She screamed. "Run away, it isn't safe!" He cocked his head. "What are you talking about, Little Fox?" He laughed. "It's just you and I, although we probably shouldn't be swimming if a storm is coming." A golden figure with long hair materialized behind her brother, a jewel encrusted knife in his hand, and a sick smile on his face. "No, brother!!" She screamed, but it was too late. There were two thumps as her brother's body and head hit the ground. The man turned his ageless eyes on her. "You can come out now, Little Fox." Little Fox jerked herself up, and screamed. She was breathing heavily, her heart pounding, where was he? Where was Nathrangking? Was he coming after her next? She frantically searched the room with her eyes, but only saw Korin. She slowed her breathing. "It was only a dream" She whispered to herself. "It was only a dream." She closed her eyes and laid back down. "It was only a dream." She whispered again, but did not get any more sleep.

I was mistaken about taking it, but that did not mean that I didn't get glares from the cupcake ladies every following Christmas concert. Oh yeah, and I got a detention.

ehehe.... Well, I got a couple last year for being late and forgetting my gym clothes. And I would have gotten one in middle school for attempting to steal a Christmas cupcake... How was I supposed to know that the volunteers were only allowed to take the left-over cupcakes?? Back then we didn't have detentions though, we had the GCE, a scare tactic created by the older kids to keep people from doing crazy stuffs. So... yeah, I would've been sniped by the GCE's sniper, Mrs. W, but I think my friend made an appeal for me.

To be fair, detentions aren't really that bad at my school. You just have to sit in a room for ten minutes doing nothing while the headmaster stares you down and makes you rethink your life choices. It's more psychological than anything.

My school is super strict about paying attention in class, if you don’t, bam! Detention. They hand out detentions like a politician hands out pamphlets. You’re late? Detention! Forgot your pencil? Detention! Didn’t wipe off your table after lunch? Detention! Knocked over the church’s expired fire extinguisher and cause mass chaos all over school because the storming thing won’t stop spraying and it burns your skin and eyes? Detention! Touch a cupcake before the Christmas concert starts? Detention! (Actually, to be accurate, you would be sniped by the GCE, but I doubt y’all know about that) Leave fringe on the ground? Detention! Throw a piece of trash at the trash can and miss? Detention! Touch the holy shades? Detention! Leave your books on the ground by your desk and cause your teacher to almost trip? Detention! Forget your uniform tie on dress day? Detention!