MissTooni

 We could have met under better circumstances. Maybe she thought I was a loser from the very beginning... It had started on a Tuesday morning when I was running late for work. I’d just closed the door to my apartment and I heard the lock click. Feeling around in my pants pockets, I realized my keys were still on the table. “Crap!” I yelled and started pulling on the doorknob, twisting it as if the more effort I put into it the less locked it would be. I kicked the door a few times for good measure, yelled again, and then proceed to bang on the door with my fists even though my cat Beanbag certainly wouldn’t be capabl

Jun Liang Wei was always amazed by how many layers of clothing European woman wore. Slips, petticoats, bustiers, stockings, bloomers, skirts, blouses... it seemed to never end. Angeline Watson could put all of them on in under ten minutes. When she emerged from the washroom, hair already done up in a neat bun, Wei was still buttoning up his jacket. "Are you in a hurry?" He blindly glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door open, still not wearing his glasses. "Not especially, I just... wouldn't want to cause a scene..." the detective's assistant looked down. "We've yet to cause a scene... we've been pretty careful." Wei grabbed the p

 The Southern Continent, in great contrast to the North, was a hotter, more humid place. However, the South was not without its arid desert, and in the middle of this desert was a small oasis known as Nama. This oasis was home to a tribe, one whose ancestors had witnessed the destruction of their old world and the creation of a new one. This tribe had also passed down the story of the Harbinger of Destruction. It was said that all people on earth were descended from this tribe. Shaki, one such member of this tribe, was in possession of a certain ring. It was silver, and at its core was a jewel that would glint in every color of the rainbow

 I wasn't supposed to have tchotchkes on my desk. Not because they were against regulations or anything, though. I was a grown-up and a professional now. I was supposed to be too old for those kind of things. Without personality, though, a desk was hard to work at. My fellow journalists would occasionally tease me about it, but there was one person who never did - to my surprise. Boioioioiong. Oliver's desk was adjacent from mine and whenever he came in to the office he would flick the Boris Badenov bobble-head on my desk. It was his ritual. His out-of-character ritual. I didn't know if he even knew who the character was, but I could see hi

 There was a loud crackling sound in the darkness, followed by silence. Johnny could not force his eyelids to open. In fact, he couldn’t move a single muscle. His entire body was numb, his hearing seemed to be the only sense that was functioning. There were some other noises in the darkness, soft rustling like cloth being moved, the clinking of glass and shuffling of feet. As if being rendered blind and paralyzed wasn’t unsettling enough, being subjected to these strange noises with no explanation was causing Johnny to panic. He couldn’t feel himself breathing, if he even was breathing. What was going on? A throaty chuckle

 I + D = id, the part of the psyche responsible for primitive thought, the most basic part that seeks to avoid pain and seek pleasure. Within it, contrary impulses exist side by side without canceling each other out. I and D, Iggy and Dean... that psychology definition could almost perfectly describe my relationship with that idiot. Hanging out with him, all we ever did was try to have fun and avoid getting our asses kicked. The fact that "fun" usually meant doing something incredibly retarded fit that 'primitive' part to a tee, and contrary impulses existing side by side? Dean was a laid-back thrill-seeker, I was an over-anxious worrywart, a

"Dollmaking is a blend of chemistry and art that has been developed over the years. The first dollmaker was Aselaide Verain She was a writer primarily, but after some tragic events in her life began to study science. After quite a few failed attempts, she finally discovered a working formula and began creating living dolls. Unfortunately, around this time she also went quite mad, and…" As Professor Khapran continued his lecture, Sverapoe leaned forward, his golden eyes wide as he listened intently. He was too absorbed in the professor's story to even take notes. Drincour sat right next to him, lanky body hunched over the table and avid

When walking through the woods one night As I so often do I found myself alive with fright A feeling that was new I looked around, I gave a call But no reply returned And as I walked beneath that pall The terror in me burned I'd walked this road alone before With just a candle's light Across the river, through the moor I'd traveled in the night No troll, no ghost, no goblin child Had ever crossed my path Within this world of idlewild I'd felt no monster's wrath The thing I feared the most, you see Was neither bird nor hound It was the man who followed me And never made a sound

 It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. I'm sure anyone living in the town could have told them that. I have no doubt there were protests. How much more despicable could you get, after all? Graveyards are typically considered sacred ground, even if they are unconventional graveyards… Without a doubt, the Radio Tower changed the entire feel of the once solemn, peaceful hamlet of Lavender Town. They claimed it was the way of the future. Goldenrod City across the sea in Johto had one, this was progress! Goldenrod City, though, did not house the largest memorial to the spirits of departed Pokémon in the world. Goldenrod City's Radio Towe