-Thanks to Lizzy for creating the Bio-Rama page and letting me post my own OC Jodi Harte :) Click on the image to visit Bio-Rama!

Sunday, 31 October 2010

damn internet connetion...

Sorry guys, my internet connection just went wacko and now I can't go on my laptop to comment on dereks Blog :'( currently typying this up on my blackberry, but this is mainly for everyone on derek's site- sorry! I got cut off and I'm goin to go to sleep now so byeeeeee Kallista, Mary and Skulgirl13 *waves* xox

Thursday, 28 October 2010

BG: part FOURTEEN ;). And er, Hi.

Don't really have much to say here, but i've heard there were cautions for tornadoes and earthquakes around the globe? Well, sending my love! Hope everyone is okay :D

I suppose I should explain everything to her. I guess I should tell her I don’t know what a iPod is, or what she means when she says ‘K’. I think I should say something.
Then again, maybe I shouldn’t.
“My name is Bridget.” She says softly, while we sit in what she calls an ‘open all hours over-priced café’. Whatever that is. “Bridget Whipslash. You yelled Necros before you were knocked out. Is that you name?”
I nod my head, because I don’t remember telling her, but I guess she’s right.
“Were you in the van that crashed?”
I don’t remember anything about a van. I just remember the grass as I ran my finger over each blade. I remember the feel of frost on the cheeks. And then nothing. Just a blank from that point to sitting up in her car with the heat source thingy on full blast. I remember her telling me she had put the air-conditioning on, and her confused face when I asked her what she was on about.
Instead I nod. Because it seems like an easier explanation to everything.
“Where were you going?”
I frown, because I don’t think the point was to go anywhere.
“Do you remember?”
I shake my head, as a thin girl with a ridiculous device that is belting large sounds from itself on the top of her head, places a cup in front of me. Bridget smiles at her, and the thin girl says a little too loudly ‘coffee for you as well miss?’ and Bridget shakes her head mechanically. Maybe she’s just not thirsty.
Bridget does ask for today’s newspaper instead, and the girl smiles and reaches for one on the top of the counter. She places it on the table, and Bridget nudges it over to me. When the thin girl walks off to another person, Bridget laughs.
“Have a look through it. You might be a missing person.”
I had no idea that it was put upon civilians to do such high authority abilities.
To find a missing person is like trying to figure out how you feel about someone without knowing who he or she is. It’s physically impossible. Unless you know where that person is heading, and if you don’t you need to figure it out. If anyone knew where I had been, the secret would be astonishing. I don’t even truly know myself.
It’s like I heard the whisper of the street without understanding the name; as if someone gave me directions without telling me where I was going.
Instead of flicking through the newspaper, a small print below the title catches my eye. I stare at it; because surely I should know better.
‘December 2nd 2010’
The words are printed clear as if each letter is burning through the paper.
“What’s wrong?” Bridget asks. I imagine that her face is full of confusion, that she is blankly staring at me while I try to think of a reasonable explanation. I don’t look up at her. I don’t think I can.
The date is wrong. The damn date is wrong.
Who gets a date wrong?
On a newspaper?
I look up at her then, and her valiant steely green eyes are scanning the newspaper in front of me. Doesn’t she see the date? “What’s wrong Necros?”
“The date,” I mumble. “It’s wrong.”
“No it’s not. It’s December 2nd. 2010.”
“A century.” I think out-loud. “It’s a century out.”
“What-” Bridget stops herself, and leans back against the leather furnishing. She sinks down slightly, her lips slightly open as if she is about to finish her sentence. She’s staring out the window next to us, across the streets.
I guess this is the part where I tell her the truth. That I was not in that accident. That I really, well and truly have no clue what this shop is supposed to provide to the public. That the date on this black and white paper is wrong. It has to be. It must be.
“Oh.” She says simply, still glancing out of the window.
I think she might be mad, but I still have no idea. She’s just looking out of the window, thinking. I watch her carefully drum her finger tips on the edge of the table, as the thin girl comes back, pouring some disgusting liquid into my cup. Once she is gone, Bridget turns back to me. It’s impossible to tell what she has to say.
“I,” She stops, shakes her head and stands. Tears are in her eyes, and she in biting her bottom lip as it quivers. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you.” She says slowly, closing her eyes while she says it. She hands me some thin paper and silver coins.
“I’m sorry,” She finishes, opening her eyes and quickly escaping the store.
Bridget is gone, I think to myself.
I don’t love her, I know that much. But for now, she is the only person I have watched walk away from me. I don’t remember opening my eyes while I walked from others.
I suppose this is was it feels like to be a freak.

Well, this was just a surprise anyway, but there it is! (Hellboy, you seriously need to to update. Or i will do...something.)
Anyway, who's doing what for Halloween? I'm going trick or treating *hey, it's FREE candy!* and i think i'm dressing as a killer or something. I don't know. I'm just wearing ripped jeans, striped top, and white face paint with fake blood. Let other people use their imagination when guessing what i am xD

Sunday, 24 October 2010

Your Christmas prezzies are NOTHING compared to mine!

Okay, it's official. I am the Best Big Sis EVER!

Last night, i brought the ultimate Christmas present for my Little Brother *Hang on a sec, Lenka never mentioned having a little brother! We're only aware of the little sis!* WELL my brother is the youngest of my family - my family is massive, i still haven't met most of my Dad's Hungarian relatives yet! - and is adorable. Besides, he's four and i need to steer him in the right direction when it comes to books, so this Christmas is the perfect time to do it. I've already educated my sister in Music (although, somehow she loves JLS, and i have no idea where i went wrong with her there...) but she likes Laura Jansen tracks and Bruno Mars- Just The Way You Are (which i can not get out of my head right now!) so she's getting better!

Ah, let's get back on track.

Christmas Presents. And mine to my little brother is a gagillion times better than any prezzie YOU can buy (just deal with it. Seriously) So, here it is:

i THINK that worked. It's just a mass of letters and numbers on my screen while your posting. But, we'll find out won't we?

Sooooo this is why i am utterly excited for christmas. It's the favourite one i've brought, and i paid for it myself! (which, if you have little brothers or sisters, you'll understand how amazing it feels to watch them smile as they open it)

So, some more pictures:

Aw! He kinda looks cute!

^^^ The master of drawing and his name up on a book cover. i am spellbound ^^^

Well, merry Christmas everyone!


p.s: Nooooo, i haven't read it a thousand times already so that i already have voices planned out in my head on how i'll read it to him when it's his bed time o.O
why, don't cha believe me? xD

Saturday, 23 October 2010

BG: part THIRTEEN! who's ready?

Whoo! Congrats on the great response for the interview, and Hellboy here's my half of the deal xD :

Aquila stood with her train ticket, holding her bag in her other hand. And then she stepped out of the train, eyes wide as people glared at her. She saw some people, probably her own age, whispering about her. Aquila quickly placed her ear buds into her ears, listening to whatever random song played on shuffle. She didn’t listen to lyrics as she pretended not to hear the sneers at her pathetic excuse for a fashion sense. She should’ve known. London meant pulling out leather jackets, I love London shirts with the flag inside a heart, and skinny jeans with converses. Not a light pink baby doll dress and boyfriend jeans with white high-heeled shoes and a slim white shrug cardigan.
She raced out of the underground, upstairs and hailed a taxi. She jumped in, as the man smiled and politely asked where she was heading. “Anywhere.” She said, handing over a fist full of twenty-pound notes. “Anywhere but here.”
The bleak darkness of the night cornered London quickly that day. The taxi drove down an empty road, flying through the streets. Aquila sat in the back, staring out of the window at the lights that flooded the city.
It happened so quickly, Aquila didn’t even realise it.
The driver swerved on the road, just missing a man with a top hat that stood in the centre of the road. Aquila screamed as the car toppled over onto its side, and blood ran down her face. She had hit her head on the glass of the window, and she could smell gas.
The man walked over to the car, pulled Aquila out of the wreck quickly, and put her aching body over his shoulder. He ran into the darkness and the bleak of the night, as Aquila gripped onto his coat tightly, watching the car as the blood dripped onto the street below. In a split second, the car ignited, and exploded like a firework blazing in the road. Aquila could hear the sirens, chasing after the light.
The man put Aquila down, letting her back lean against a brick wall. He stepped back, keeping his hat low, as Aquila stared at the fire that burnt in the sky from the car. “What the hell was that?” Aquila asked, finding her breath.
“Oh nothing,” The man said, tipping his hat. “That guy is just being controlled by some super secret badass villain, and I thought I should stop your fate turning out like his.”
“He might’ve been innocent before-”
“Don’t argue: it was his life or twenty more. Don’t go round tellin’ people that I stopped by, ya hear me?”
Aquila looked up at the man, noticing the frame of his shoulders, how the corners of his lips showed no emotion; how his eyes blazed and shinned in the sliver of moonlight that hit his pupils.
“You’re Springheeled Jack.” Aquila whispered stunned. “Don’t touch me.”
“Just because I’m a bad guy, doesn’t mean I’m really a bad guy.”
Aquila laughed. “I think I heard that at the movies. It means you play on the evil side, do bad things, but in total, you’re not a bad person. Someone who kills for a living is always a bad guy.”
“What makes you say that? All those people who fought in the war were killing each other. No one thought they were bad, did they?” Jack muttered, tipping his hat low again.
“In World War One, men from certain ages were forced to go to war after the propaganda posters stopped influencing people to-”
“I weren’t talkin’ about any Mortal War missy.”
Aquila’s face went red. “I said for a living.” Aquila muttered, as Jack watched the fire department struggle to put out the fire in the distance. The flames glowered with rage, flickering through the London Sky. “They weren’t killing for a living. You do it. You kill people, don’t you?”
Jack went silent, kicking a rock across the gravel. “You said those Mortals were forced, didn’t cha?” Aquila nodded, feeling the blood drip from her cheek. “Who said we weren’t?”
Aquila blinked, unsure what to say. And Jack dashed off, rounding the corner and disappearing. Aquila looked upwards, and saw his nimble figure leaping through the air, across the rooftops at such an alarming speed that Aquila wasn’t even sure if she had seen it.
“Hey!” Someone called. “Are you okay?”
Skyril Oblivion stepped in Aquila’s line of view. “No.” Aquila yelled. “I’m not.”
Aquila jumped up, and started to walk off. “Wait, what happened to your cheek?” Skyril asked, pulling Aquila back by her sleeve.
“I’m not blind. It’s right there. And it’s bleeding. Come on, I’ll get you to a hospital.”
Aquila turned and punched Skyril in the face. Skyril spluttered, falling to the floor while Aquila ran and sprung into the air, her clothes ripping off as wings spread out from her body. The same eagle form that Skyril had seen Skylara use an hour ago took flight into the murky London air, disappearing from sight.
Skyril didn’t try to stop her. She just let go, crashing backwards onto the ground. Skyril could see the feathered shape spin in the air while she looked up to the moon, wondering what she was supposed to do next.

Oooh, dramatic or what? Anyway, who's already in a Christmas-ie mood (I am!) and who's getting ready for Halloween (Not me...)But i'll show you why in a later post ;)

Saturday, 16 October 2010

Here's yourrrrrrrr interview!

No intro, just go with it:

What’s your favourite color? (you UK people spell it "colour" but i think that's odd)
It’s because we’re different like that xD Ultimately? Blue. I can’t stand pink, sorry.

do you like peanuts?
Yes. Yes I do ;)

best TV show in the world?

Glee! Okay, okay, kinda joking kinda not (I’m a total Gleek, sorry). I really liked ‘Tru Calling’ a few years ago before it ended, and then I loved ‘Blackadder’, but I really don’t have a favourite TV show currently on. Because Glee isn’t on here, in the UK (we don’t get it until Jan) but I really like Home and Away if you’re talking soaps. I hate the others, seriously. But i think H&A need to drag in a better storyline soon, because it’s slightly simple (won’t say where UK is up to, because I think there are N.Z. people who are like YEARS behind or whatever).
Erm, TV programme... ooh, ooh, ‘FRINGE’ and ‘HOUSE’, just because the story line is so entertaining throughout the seasons and stuff. (AGAIN, do not mention what bits you like about these because some people get certain TV shows before others

Best book after skulduggery?
My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I’ve cried all four times.

What's your fav. piece of web lingo? eg. Ftw

Have you ever read "Shiver" by Maggie Stieefvater? If so, do you like it?

Yes and YES! Who doesn’t? I’m writing loads of fan fiction for it in my draft books at the mo, hey, maybe I’ll post some...

What is the best place you like to take a bus/walk to? eg. city, park, plaza.
I live in a village where if you catch a bus it won’t come down to the village again for another week or so. I don’t have the opportunity to visit places or sit and write in one main area. I quite like writing in cafés, but I got kicked out of my favourite one once because they needed the table and I hadn’t ordered anything for an hour or so... but I like that café a lot, I rarely have the chance to go in it, and if I do it’s with Family, and I hate it when my Mum or Dad read over my shoulder. It just puts me off.
Also, out village is very small compared to cities and towns, so if I walk somewhere it’s usually to the park. I did it once, but there were all these little children running around screaming... Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve been back there to write since.
So, conclusion? Usually at home, in the garden or while I’m cooking cakes and such in the kitchen 

If you could be any of the Skulduggery Pleasant characters, regardless of the gender, who would it be?
... Tough question or what?
Okay, I love Val and all, and same goes with Tanith, but after Book Five I can’t really look at ANY of the characters the same. So, really I still love the classic: Springheeled-Jack. I think I’d be him, just because he’s kinda mysterious, and fully awesome, the way he kicked the C*** out of Dusk while saving Val was just EPICA xD


Is 'Lenka Sweet' another OC? Or just your blog name (like mine, Hellboy)? If so, it's a helluva name, Lenka.
Okay, Lenka is a lot of things to me. She used to be the main character of a Batman story I wrote (Jesus- I was eight, okay? I was writing a Batman Fanfiction in a purple Hello-Kitty folder, and quite frankly, it’s really good for an eight year old) and then she became something different. I joined, a couple of years ago, using a basic screen name ‘writing_rockz’ and signed a post with ‘Lenka’ by accident on the Blog. I got a really good response, and then I realised why so many people were calling me Lenka. I really liked it, and my Blog was called ‘Sweet Stories: (you just can’t resist)’ and I think you see where this is going. I took out Sweet, and there you had it: Lenka Sweet. A blog name I’m always using, every now and again.

Already a talented writer, do you plan on writing a novel someday?

If the answer is yes: What would you write about?
Depends. I obviously wouldn’t be able to do Fanfiction due to copyrights and other stuff, but I really love the realistic-fiction Jodi Picoult does- I ADORE her stories. Never ever get sick of them, but problem is that they are mainly focused to a women’s audience – and I’m not kidding. I like the ‘women’ type books, just because lately the Teen-Section in Waterstones has been swarmed over with vampire novels *shudders*
Oh wait, I’ve gone slightly off the bases of the question. Sorry. At the moment, I’m planning on doing some Detective books for Teens (cos there is a stunning lack of them around) and when I say Detective I don’t mean there will be any Skulduggery or Magic, just action and adventure. Theeeeeeeeen I think I’ll do a trilogy of them (yes. I have this planned out. This is what a fancy Paperchase draft book contains on my book shelf... irony, huh?) with different settings and victims and Murders.
Okay, I actually have a draft of a Con Artist styled book, and it would be going better if, as my sister would say, I let myself allow the people to have a love interest. I don’t like doing that in most stories, I don’t like building a plot on flexible emotions that break or bend during the middle: it’s just odd. I have a couple of stories about teen suicide – shut up, I’m not suicidal, I just think the problem is overlooked in most stories or newspaper reports – and one about Religion between a brother and sister: One is Jewish (or a Christian, depending on how much information I find that fits into the story), the other just isn’t any religion. Any wayyyy, so you see, I have a lot that I want to write about.

What is your favourite time period?
(sorry...having trouble being creative....)

The present xD Okay, I know I know, you mean like the Tutors or the Victorian times, but they are just parts that make you go ick in all of them... I really don’t know. Seriously, I’d hate to live in all of them. I need my blackberry!

If you had a choice of living in either a castle, a mansion, cottage, or nice apartment, what would you choose and where would it be located?
Cottage on the beach, or a Apartment in a large city (I’m just the best of both, really xD). Both would have to be in Australia.

Have you ever read The Awakening by Bevan McGuiness?
No, sorry. It’s now on my list though!

What is your favourite book (non-skulduggery of course)?
My Sister’s Keeper. I’m sure I’ve answered something like this earlier: do you people not read each other’s comments? :)

Who's fan-fic/story are you enjoying the most?
Don’t make me! Seriously, don’t.
Okay, my favourite way that someone else has portrayed me would lead you to
AKA: Hellboy’s Blog. Which yeah, is Bridget Whiplash’s piece, but I’m in it, and I love it. I guess this might, or might not, change, depending how my piece *flutters eyelashes* goes. ;)

What do you plan to do when you are older?
Write. Move to Australia, go to a Uni in Aus, get an agent, publisher and editor soon after, and I don’t know, rub it in that I’m famous afterwards? Oh, and I might as well meet Jodi Picoult at some point too, instead of just e-mailing her (she replies ridiculously quick!).

Extra-Question from Sis:
Seriously, are you going to leave a towel in the bathroom next time or what?
...Maybe. Weather permitting of course.

xD i'll probably update later, and maybe i'll get some new questions too :P

Wednesday, 13 October 2010

Part TWELVE! and omigodomigod *faints*

This is in honour of the people who are saving the Chilli miners who have been stuck underground for 69 days, because seriously, you guys kick ass! Okay, serious now, the rescuers are phenomenal, and someone needs to thank you. Today, that someone is me, a Year Nine (shut up. I'm taking three Science GCSE papers this year, worth in total 50% of my grade... and what have you got?) yes, maybe just a thirteen year-old who sits at her computer eating Kit kats, but my point is: if I can see that, who can't, right?

So this is for you, and even though there is no way you'll read this blog any time soon, at least you know there are still 33 people that will always be grateful, and that there are plenty of others out there who care.

Sorry to everyone else if you were expecting something funny, but i needed to be serious for this post, and i promise you, it's over.
I'll be back to my funny, still loveable gleeful person by the next part :)

Why do people try to hurt me?
The single sentence of truth, of unanswerable question, a balance of the point of subjectivity crossed Jodi’s mind as Skulduggery Pleasant pushed her into a bound cell. He released the shackles off her, and she would not look at him – she could not look at him, for her eyes burned in the swelling darkness she had tangled herself in. “It’s not so bad,” Skulduggery muttered. “Cosy home, no one to hurt you. It could be worse.”
Jodi Harte wrapped her arms around her chest, and rested her cheek against the cold stonewall. She could feel the sparkling texture on her skin, as the cooling sensation made her shiver. Jodi faced away from Skulduggery, and if she had opened her eyes, she would’ve been staring at another pale wall.
She couldn’t see. She could feel the pain ready to pull out her pupils, she could still feel the points of each needle stick to her arms: as if she couldn’t shake off the sensation that people might have pushed the point of the sharp metal into her arms again. Just to be sure that she couldn’t feel it when they kicked her down.
Jodi had put plasters around her heart over and over again throughout her life, until the band aid was so sturdy she could barely feel a leap of affection, or a strike of horror that pierced her when she had been betrayed. She just couldn’t fell. She would never try to care.
It had been a good thing, in Jodi’s perspective, that Skulduggery hadn’t asked her if she was okay. If he had, she would have had to face him; she would have had to stare at him while blood ran across her face, while the silent screaming mixed with the tears that built with the pain. She wouldn’t be seen as weak. She wouldn’t let anyone see who she was underneath the armour.
The cell door slammed shut, and Jodi heard the murmuring outside.
“Oh look,” Skulduggery said, and at first Jodi wonder if he had been trying to direct it to her. “A washed up man in a snazzy suit, American accent and authority to inspect a criminal I captured about twenty minutes ago. No, that’s not suspicious at all.”
“Do not insult me with your lies.” The man Skulduggery had described spoke.
“You right, that suit is hardly snazzy at all. My apologizes.” Skulduggery’s footsteps walked into the distance. “I’m getting some of the council to confirm your position.” Then he was gone.
The man outside smiled, looking at the cell door. He touched the lock, as three symbols glowered, each flashing different colours, until the door unlatched itself from its bolts. The man stepped in swiftly, grabbing Jodi’s jumper by its sleeve, and threw her out of the cell, across the hall.
“Hello Sarah.” The man laughed, as he kicked her in the gut. “Twenty. Eight. Thousand dollars, Sarah. Although, I hear that’s not you name, so what is it? No one would tell me.” He punched her in the chest, across the face, as blood rolled from her eyes as the single tears began to slide down her cheeks. “You should’ve known who you were conning, you ignorant little girl.” He grabbed her by the hair, and tugged at it, so her body smashed against the opposite wall. Jodi’s body folded in half, collapsing to the ground. She would not scream, she just wouldn’t.
The man pulled her back upwards, starring at Jodi’s face, torn, bleeding, broken. Her eyes wouldn’t look at him, and he believed that it was a sign of defeat. He smiled at the thought, punching her again, as she crumbled to the floor, hands cut, and she knew that bruises would strike her whole body by the morning. “Don’t you remember me?” He demanded, jabbing her in the stomach.
“John,” She whispered, and he stepped back shocked.
“Wait, you remember?” He said, scared now.
Jodi couldn’t feel her lips while she spoke. “We were standing outside the London Eye, meeting there for a business meeting, we had talked over the phone between our two companies, well, okay I hacked into the system and talked with you over your business, but you had no idea. You felt sick during the pasta, because I had drugged your drink with... I don’t remember, toxic or something. While you rushed off, I rummaged through your bag and found you credit card details, everything. I even swapped our briefcases round so that you left with ten thousand fake notes, and I left with whatever amount you had organised to boost ‘my’ business. I even got your signature on some documents that you had left in your coat pocket, and your checkbook. I still have it, I think. Somewhere. I made checks out to myself when I needed the money, and even managed to work at the back for a while, then I was fired for taking too many days off. I rearranged the details, so I looked like one of your workers: why would anyone be suspicious of me getting money off you, my boss?”
John took another step backwards, unsure of what to say. Jodi continued: “When you came back, you broke the deal off, so the real company didn’t lose much. I only picked you because you made yourself known on the radar. You gave me personal information, like when you insisted that you’d pay for the meal, I saw a picture of your son, and you told me so much, it was as if you were trying to rub it in that he was happy. With you.”
“What?” John said, his voice shaking.
“I mean, it was as if you were trying to rub it in because you were happy. But you told me things, so many things, all of you did. Things I didn’t have to know. Things you shouldn’t have told Sarah, or Kally, or Christina, things you should’ve told the girl across the hall in your apartment about, or the boy next door.” Jodi took a breath, feeling her hands clench into fists. “Thing I really didn’t need to remember: things I just can’t forget.”
John, almost by the door, pauses before making an escape. “You remember everyone?”
Jodi’s lips would’ve curved into a smile if she had wanted to. “They’re there behind me when I brush my teeth, they are the waiters and waitresses that serve me at my favourite café, they are always watching me, and they will never look away.”
“But do you remember them?”
Sighing, Jodi blinked slightly, gasping at the pain. She shut her eyes tightly, ignoring the pain while she spoke. “Everyday.” She whispered, as Skulduggery Pleasant came charging down the hall, moments after John slipped out the side door, into the air, into the freedom of the world. And he ran.
“Did he do this?” Skulduggery asked Jodi while he prepared his gun to go charging for the strange American Detective.
“No,” Jodi breathed, trying hard not to laugh. “Sarah did.” And then Jodi didn’t hear the Skeleton Detective’s words anymore.

No copyright intended, i do not own Skulduggery Pleasant

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

Part Eleven... give me a break *nom nom Kit-Kat nom nom*

Right, here you are, i aim to please!


Jesus, that makes me sound like a prostitute xD
So, anyway, i don't see any more followers, so i take it you don't want to hear Jodi's past in one stupidly-incredible-bloody-long-piece-i've-already-drafted-and-edited-around-with-just-to-make-you-lot-happy? Plus, come on people- i need more quiz questions!
So, here we go:

James McCali was an ordinary teenage boy. His parents had gotten divorced when he was Seven, and his mother fought custody of him, and won. On James’ Eleventh birthday, his father came up to the house, and told him that he had to teach him something magical. Something James would be proud to have control over throughout life. His mother found them, and dragged James back inside. “He doesn’t need this,” She had screamed. “He doesn’t need you!” Still, James could not dive into the conversation without his mother spilling tears across her face.
Yes, James was just like everyone else. Which is why, at 5am one morning, when a girl was falling out of the sky, he wasn’t heroic. He didn’t soften her fall. He didn’t call for help.
At 5am that morning, James McCali fainted, and was caught by Israel Esyluim, who laid him down gently instead of pushing him aside as he had considered that day. Israel rushed forward to catch Skylara, but instead he pushed into her mid-flight, twisted her body around his so he fell underneath her. Israel sighed with relief, rolling his head back to relax. That could’ve gone much worse, and Israel had seen every outcome already.

Jodi Harte was spiralling towards the ground, and she didn’t care. She kept her eyes wide open all the way down, grinned too widely and laughed too loudly. Skulduggery Pleasant rushed downwards, grabbing her jumper by the collar. Jodi’s foot skidded off the top of a roof as she was pulled upwards: it should’ve been much worse, and Jodi should’ve be smiling with her mouth twisted in blood, or with her legs detached from her body. But instead, she was flying, breaking the boundaries of gravity, feeling unlimited by this; this amazing opportunity that had approached her this morning.
She still saw a red world that burned each time she blinked. She still felt sharp edges of pain prick her pupils while she watched the world go on below.
In fact, if she had been able to, she would’ve told you this world looked quite familiar.

Somewhere out there, a man walked into this world again for the second time in his life. His body collapsed against the ground, and he brushed his fingers against it. Grass. He couldn’t remember the last time he had touched it’s winter dew, or the cold texture as it shifted through his fingers. All he knew was that he was back.
The end had been simple. Two lights had flashed into his empty eyes as they tore him from the road. His last end here was much like the beginning. A truck broke off from the main road in the distance, and wondered through the darkened forest. It tumbled, and crashed on its side. It fell, inches away from the boys face, and he stared at the white metal in front of him. He hadn’t realised he had been breathing so hard, or that his heart was drumming faster, as if the tempo could speed up the boy’s natural defence system. He was weak. He had no control. And he was alone.
It was hours later when someone found him:
“Hello?” A girl said. “Oh my goodness, are you alright?” The boy didn’t respond. He lay there, in clothes that were burned at the crisp edges, a pale suit that had been in fashion almost a century ago. “What’s your name?”
For a while, the boy didn’t even hear the gentle syllables. He didn’t bother to try to either. “One sec,” The girl said. “I’ll get help.”
He may not have known whether or not he was alright, but he didn’t want to be alone. “Wait,” The boy called out into the winter frost as she disappeared through the tree. “Necros,” He muttered through blue lips. “My name is Necros.”

Another girl was wondering in the forest that night, looking for something to kill. She pushed back the branches of trees slowly, trying hard not to let the snow crackle and split beneath her feet. She heard a sound within the distance, and grabbed her bullwhip from the inside lining of her coat. Bridget Whiplash stepped backwards, fading into the shadows. “Hello!” A teenage girl screamed, stepping out of the darkness. “Can anyone hear me?”
Bridget waited; the girl hadn’t seen her yet. The girl stopped dead, staring in Bridget’s direction. Silently, Bridget cursed, lunging through the air and forcing the girl’s mouth shut. Bridget hated rushing this part, but still, she had no choice: what if someone else caught her while she had only just begun? What if someone stopped her, what if they got away and told the police that a vampire was on the prowl? So Bridget pushed her fangs into the girl’s pale neck, and ignored how the girls pulse slowed, until her body fell to the ground. Bridget quickly pushed a needle into her own arm, trying to stop the sweet sensation that trickled down her throat from overpowering her. And that’s when she noticed a whisper that swarmed through the air.
She followed it, resting the girl against a tree. Bridget had no time to hide this one if there was a witness nearby. She could easily dispose of them both later.
The boy she found was actually quite handsome. Not the 'let’s snog now hottie', but the 'cute type'. Bridget lifted him upwards, noticing his blue lips, and the frost and snow that ran through his hair and coated his eyelashes. Bridget spared a second to question what the hell he was wearing. She hadn’t heard that the 80’s style was coming back into fashion.
Bridget opened her mouth to ask for his name, when a purple mist hit the forest. They both tumbled to the floor, being pushed down further into the ground. The man’s eyes stayed wide open the whole time, just starring at nothing, as if waiting for his body to completely fall beneath the ground. When it stopped, Bridget struggled to stand. She had a throbbing headache, and she rubbed her temples to stop the pain, as if it would help. “Necros,” The man cried out quickly. “Necros-” And then he faded into unconsciousness.
Bridget sighed, rolling onto her back. Tonight was going to be a very long night.

So hey lookie! Yes, we just met Necros. Yes Bridget is back to help. And heck yes, my character is beginning to become some-what stuck in yours heads, am i right? Because i realised that no one knows YOUR character better than YOU, so it's truly up to everyone to give a image of them in their own stories, instead of adapting it around everyone else's
Hellboy... Jesus, post the next part already! Or i shall attack you with my favourite Glee Quotes!
*cough* *splutter* *choke* *cough* *cough*

You threaten me, I threaten you. So here's a tip for all writers out there:
If you need a break...


Wednesday, 6 October 2010

11 followers! Wow!

At the moment, i'm a bit like 'Wow, i'm not even following myself!' and now i'm a bit like,

We can do so much better,

So,*idea* my aim for this Blog, is 30 followers. 30 people to impress, and 30 people that i can happily call 'Stalkers' xD I'm not going to threaten you cos hey, that's 19 more people YOU have to recruit, but you know, no presure.

But if we DO get 30 followers, i'm going to do a special Fan Fiction about Jodi's past, and i MIGHT even post a few pictures and doodles of Jodi and some random scenery if i can get my bloody scanner working soon :L

So, deal or no deal?

Also, i'm thinking about doing a competition after this task and the interview (which, i still need a load of questions for) which will be EPICA! (thank you to Hellboy for that word :))

So yes. Invite and ect. and i'll post a special Fanfiction bout Jodi's past, which will range from School to...well, it will probably tell you why she became a Con Artist. (gosh, i bet that didn't make you curious at ALL, am i right :L)

Tuesday, 5 October 2010

BG:Part Ten! and failed homework...

BWAHAHAHAHA totally just completely FAILED my African Arts Facts homework for my Art class xD I just made up seven random facts all for YOU. yes, you, the reader of this blog, because i spent most of my time yesterday and today writing up part ten from some notes i have jotted down. So yes, I'd like to point out that HERE it explains why this story is called Broken Glass, and that there is a sort of twist here too:

Jodi did eat something, eventually. Skylara shoved a plate of Pasta in front of her with (typeofspice) sauce drizzled over in front of Jodi while she indulged herself in Midsummer Night’s Dream. “Eat.” Skylara had ordered.
“Or what?” Jodi said; eyes glued to the book. Skylara snatched the book out of her grasp, and threw it at Israel, who made a clumsy catch but still kept it out of Jodi’s reach while she lunged for it. “Give it back!” Jodi yelled, trying to push Israel over, but she had no strength or energy left of her to do it.
Skylara smiled, handing Jodi a fork. “Eat,” She said again, this time more gentle.
Skyril and Jodi now both sat on the couch. Leaning on each other, back to back. Jodi kicked her legs up, onto the armrest, and Skyril kept her tucked beneath her chin while she flicked through the internet on her mobile. Israel was trying to get hold of the Sanctuary to send more Cleavers for better protection, even after Jodi had refused.
“For God’s sake,” Jodi had muttered. “It’s been two weeks now, I think we can all agree that nobody wants to kill me.” But as it all turned out, not everyone did agree, so Israel still tried to call them.
Jodi stood, wearing her jeans and grey cardigan with a white vest top. She was also wearing a pair of grey low-top converses to match. She walked into the bathroom, grabbed a hairbrush and tried to tame her fringe, while the layers from the bob tried to get into her eyes. Jodi, for a moment, lost herself. She stared at her reflection, noticing the scabbed scars around her eyes. Each one self-inflicted by her own hands.
“You did that,” Skylara said, leaning on the doorframe. “One time you woke up, and screamed before we even realised. You were clawing at your face while Israel brought out the needle. You said you were trying to pluck out your eyes: that if we could dare put you through that hell then you surely you should not have to watch.”
“Then why did you make me?” Jodi said quietly, pushing past Skylara and stepping out into the grasp of a Cleaver.
Israel pushed past them, to the front. “You’re supposed to protect her.” Israel pointed out, yet the grip didn’t loosen. “Didn’t you get my messages?” Jodi kicked her leg upwards so it hit the Cleaver in the jaw, but the Helmet covered up the blow. “Who did call you?”
Jodi tried to fight the Cleaver off, but gave up when he made no show to move. “Skyril,” Skylara said. “Fancy helping out?”
Skyril stood from her position, staring at Jodi who’s hands where now covered in shackles, her powers bounded in front of her. “Don’t bother, Skylara.” Jodi whispered. “If she wanted to help me she wouldn’t have called them.”
Betrayed, Skylara shifted in rage. Her wolf form was beautiful, with yellow eyes the shade of the sun, like diamonds with the sharp scent of agony printed behind the pupils. Skylara snarled, and instead changed course, knocking into the cleaver, pushing him off balance. Jodi took advantage, and kicked the next Cleaver as he tried to advance. She still had her hands locked behind her back, so when Skyril ran for her and pushed her to the ground, Jodi could not soften the fall. Israel grabbed Skyril, pinning her hands behind her back.
“Don’t any of you understand?” Skyril yelled in agony as Israel twisted her wrist. “She has to be stopped; she has to be sto-”
The window Jodi had been standing next to shattered into glitter pieces that flew into her eyes. Jodi’s hands pressed against them as Skylara watched, blood dripping down her cheeks. And Skulduggery Pleasant stood in the room, the culprit for the smashed window. “You have the right to remain silent,” He said, grabbing Jodi’s wrists and tugging her out of the window. Jodi began to scream as the London air hit her face. I can’t see, I can’t see! The thought looped in Jodi’s mind. Jodi reached out for Israel, who held out his hand for her to tug on, but she didn’t know it was there. She missed it, as her eyes finally opened.
Israel stepped back, horrified. Jodi’s eyes had a layer of blood over the tops, and pieces of glass were still in her pupils. She saw the world in a red haze, as each piece of the world brushed by her as the Skeleton Detective pulled her out of reach, and into the sky.
Jodi could feel the air brush past her finger tips, as if she could touch the sky. She felt like she was pulling into her own orbit. She felt something prick her shoulder, and she stared as she watched the Detective pull the needle out of her. The felling of numbness overcame her, and she smiled at Israel who was watching in horror. And then-
Skylara leaped out of the window.
Her transformation was beautiful. A wave of energy wrapped around her as she tore of her old body. In a flash, her wings took form, and she gripped the sky like the conductor of the air. The eagle raced past Skulduggery, sticking her claws into Jodi’s shoulders. Jodi just laughed. Skulduggery knocked her, out of the sky, releasing Jodi from her grip. Skulduggery snatched Jodi upwards, and Skylara transformed again.
Fletcher Renn was Skylara’s new copy. She grinned, and disappeared. Then reappeared on Skulduggery’s back. “Let her go!” Skylara yelled in Fletcher’s voice.
“That was a very odd choice of words.” Skulduggery Pleasant murmured, letting go of Jodi. While Skylara gasped, Skulduggery smacked her over the head. Skylara was knocked out, changing into her own form, tumbling down to the Earth...

Update on the Interview: I need more questions. My sis has given me three A4 sheets of questions to answer here on the blog... which hey, is great, i just don't think 'Will you leave a towel in the bathroom next time i have a shower?' is something you really want to desperately know.
So comment on the last post for more questions! Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee! Even if you've already commented, i don't care, just pretty pretty pretty please???

Saturday, 2 October 2010

so just why IS lenka sweet up past midnight?

Well hello to the other people in the UK who have decided to stay up late tonight. It is now officially the 2nd of october. That's right, time to stop pinching and punching each other and breaking the no returns rule because hey, you aren't really that sad are you?
So just a update really via my dad's friend's girlfriend's house over mobile phone. Cos hey, I'm just cool like that.

No, seriously laugh. Course, I've got a couple of lives (yeah, I spent a while taking people seriously with the whole 'get a life' stuff) but right now I am bored. And when I am bored, I update with random stuff.

So I guess this is for people who are still awake in the uk, and for those waking up in aus. (I ain't gonna even TRY and spell aus. Properly while I'm this tired) and also for everyone else around the world who get up at whatever time I don't know about. This really is just something I thought I'd bring up to see what other people thought, so here we go:

Let's do a interview.

Yeah well, here we are the rules for my interview:
1. You can ask as many questions as you want, but you must accept that not every question will be answered
2. The question : 'what's going/gonna happen in your story' is banned
3. I will not answer questions about personal detail (ie: phone numbers, real names, home addresses ect.) Seriously. It just makes you look like a perv on the internet.
4. I will not post a picture of myself, so don't ask
5. You must use imagination and come up with SOME creative questions
6. You can not comment on the spelling mistakes in this post. I'm doing it via mobile, remember?

So, good morning, evening, and afternoon to the people of the Earth xD night xxx

Friday, 1 October 2010

BG:part NINEEEE! yeah, it's totally a number now

Okay, we best make this quick because i'm supposed to be on the way to a Dad's Friend's Girlfriend's house at the mo, and according to texts i'm 'on my way there'... do NOT give me that look, i'm only doing this to save you from a cliffhanger.
Well, here we go people:

Jodi Harte sat bolt upright on the sofa. Her eyes were wide with suspicion, and she stayed still, frozen to the spot.
“Hey,” Skylara said, now in her own form, as she walked over to see Jodi. “You okay?”
Jodi didn’t hear. She just looked up at Skylara and Israel, both staring, and she lashed out, kicking, yelling, and squealing. Israel ran over, and pushed a tablet into Jodi’s mouth, who tried hard to spit it out. Skylara grabbed the glass of water on the coffee table, while Israel kept Jodi’s mouth open. Skylara poured the water into Jodi’s mouth, and Israel push her lips together so she had to swallow. When she did, Jodi just glared at them until her eyes closed again, and Israel let out a sigh of relief as she lay back down on the couch, disconnected with her body.
“That’s the fifth time.” Israel yelled. “What the hell are we supposed to do, wait until remembers how not to be such a psychopath?”
“That makes no sense.” Skylara muttered. “She doesn’t even remember doing it the first time. By the third time, she was crying when you gave her an injection. A slim green tablet seems to do just fine.”
Israel took the cup out of Skylara’s hands, and walked over to the sink to refill it. “I just don’t see what her problems with injections are. She collapsed because she watched us give Skyril one, for God’s sake. She’d kill herself if she took one look into a Hospital.”
“What do you think Skyril saw anyway?”
“Probably herself getting killed by Cleavers after she killed Jodi. I don’t know. And it probably won’t come true now. Let’s just drop it.”
Skylara and Israel walked into the bedroom, and watched Skyril closely. After a few hours, Skylara could’ve sworn she saw Skyril’s eyes flutter slightly but instead they heard a knock on the bedroom door, and Jodi Harte –now conscious – poked her head around the door. She was pale. And she looked stick thin compared to herself a couple of days ago. “How long was I gone for?”
“Thirteen days. And you kept waking up, screaming.” Israel muttered, keeping his tone low.
Jodi nodded. “What about Skyril?”
“She woke up, and didn’t remember anything. Stayed awake for a couple of days, ate some stuff and whatever. And then it all hit her at once.” Skylara glanced at Jodi, wondering whether to continue. “She was dead for three minutes.”
Jodi shivered slightly, and grabbed her woolly teal short-sleeved turtleneck jumper with a wooden button at the top of it. She pulled it around her so it was layered over her long sleeved grey t-shirt. “I took your jumper off earlier; your temperature went past eighty degrees. That was after the second injection.” Jodi flinched, and Skylara opened her mouth to apologise, when Skyril opened her eyes.
Skyril’s hair was wild across the pillows, electric streaks of purple flashed across the blackness. She was still wearing her black jacket and trousers with purple boots and bangles. Her eyes met Jodi’s, Purple vs. Blue, and Skylara was ready to jump between them to stop them killing each other.
“Skyril,” Israel whispered. “You fell. But you’re alright. You’re fine, now.”
All Skyril heard was the word fell. Like Jodi had fell. As if it were that clear.
“You’re okay.”
Skyril sat up slowly, as her phone rang. She answered it, her voice shaky. “Hello?”
“Skyril,” Skulduggery Pleasant said through the crackly phone line. “What’s going on with that note? Valkyrie hasn’t said anything about it.”
Jodi just kept looking at Skyril, daydreaming. Her jumper and t-shirt were too big, her face much thinner and weak. Even her skinny-jeans had a belt wrapped around, and Skyril could see that they must have had to make another hole to thread the leather through to make a purpose for it. Jodi looked sick.
“Just prank mail.” Skyril said. “Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Okay, well if you’re sure.” Skulduggery muttered something that sounded like goodbye and hung up.
Everyone was slightly shocked. Skyril could’ve come clean. She had no reason to spare Jodi of what she’d done. “I still hate you,” Skyril muttered, as Jodi stood. Her clothes hung off her; it was a miracle she was still on the ground.
“Likewise,” Jodi whispered dryly, holding out her hand. Skyril took it, and she caught a glimpse of Jodi’s arms. Stick thin - and her hands were like delicate paper. Skyril shook her head.
“You should eat something.” She recommended.
Jodi looked slightly tearful, wincing at the sunlight. “Maybe.” And that was all she said before leaving the room.
“Maybe?” Skylara repeated. “Thirteen days, and we’ve only been able to get her to drink water by forcing it into her mouth.”
“Jesus, Thirteen days?” Skyril muttered. “I remember waking up once, but-” She looked round the room, and didn’t try to finish her sentence.
“Do you remember what you saw?” Israel asked innocently.
Skyril paused. “No.” With one swift movement, Skyril quickly got up, and pulled her hair behind her ears. She stared at her face in the mirror.
She was getting better at lying.

Sooooooooooooooo. What do you think? Now, i'm aware Necros is supposed to jump in by Part Ten, but i have no idea how'll i'll squeeze him into the next part. He might come in between part 10 and the climax, K? Just so you know he will come in! Keep a look out!