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Classical SaGa ScriptScene 1
My loyal followers...we gather here
on this marvelous evening to rejoyce
in the celebration of our lords revival!
Bear witness, my children! Look
and see as this wretched Witch is
offered to our beloved God!
No! S-stop! Stop it! Let go
of me! Vlad! I'll kick your sorry
Hyeh he he...
Do not worry, my dear Sophie...
This is the meaning behind your
existence. You were born merely
to be offered as a vassel to our
great lord above. Be happy that
you have found your one true purpose
What...? My purpose? Are you
completely bonkers!? I wasn't
BORN to be sacrificed to your
shitty god! I was born to be a
damn princess!!! Now let me go!
Let me go! Let me go, let me go,
let me go!!!
What...!? My, you've quite a mouth
on your, girl. I don't think that I
quite remember you being like this.
Yeah, well situations change a
girl, dickhead!!! And if you do
I'll shove my foot so far up your
Soul Eater: After the MadnessWHOOO YAAAA!!! Good morning, students! Welcome! This is your first day attending Shibusen, I presume!? Then fear not, you'll have a great time wandering our crowded hallways! If you find an idiot here-or-there, don't fretyou'll find 'em everywhere, so it's best that you get used to it! Times really have begun to take a turn towards the best ever since the downfall of the Kishin, Asura.
Oh! Speaking of which...you must of heard of that, didn't you!? The Kishin was defeated! Ha ha! And not by the great Shinigami-Sama either! Nope. It was by one of our very own Meisters. And it is thanks to her that we are currently insanity-free!
Her name's Maka Albarn, a local Scythe Meister. And though two years have passed since then, things are pretty much back to the way they used to be around here! Well...Maka's weapon partner, Soul, as well as their friends Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki have all become Death Scythes. It's a new era! Out with the old and in with the new, just as it has always
Manga Script: Magical ARTS.Story Outline:</i>
Andrew is a sixteen year old boy who attends the school of ART. Students of this school learn of the abilities to express their emotions, thoughts, imaginations, and feelings unto paper and other mediumsincluding the very fabric of reality it's self! Wielding the power of the ART, the students fight against the power of Chaos and imbalance. After Defeating one hundred pieces of imbalance, the student is able to transcend their mortal bodies and become a god of art.
Through each piece of Imbalance defeated, the student loses something within themselves. They begin to hone their skill and join as one with the world around them, obtaining a sense of harmony, balance, and rhythm. This, as they are taught, is the true essence of an artist: To appreciate everything around them and to see art as something more than a human utility.
The human mind exerts energy at a constant rate. Negative energy is given off at time when a person may be stressed, or angry
Dragon Fantasy III: Level 1-A This is the script for I've been working on for Dragon Fantasy III. Instead of a game, this one is just going to become a script.
Think of it as a sort of Castlevania-esque game. The newer ones. You know; Dawn of Sorrow; Order of Ecclesia; Symphony of The Night, etc. It's like a side-scroller RPG. Just picture it that way!
Good bye! Read more! Down thar!
Dragon Fantasy III: Dawn Of Queens
It has been 300 years since the destruction of the Goddess Of Darkness. As Celes was felled by the blade of the legendary Hero, Venaitura crumbled and with it so did the Dark World. Monsters ceased to exist within the World Of Light, and peace reigned supreme among mortals. What little Demons were left within the Light World were given protection via the power of the Great Sages, and through this they were slowly but surely eased into the populace of the world. Humans came to accept them, all in fear of another incident similar to that of the com
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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