Sitting on my floor the quiet buzz of the Venus plant hum the tune to a Broadway tune that I’m are sure I’ve seen (not heard) in a past life, or maybe it was the ringtone on the scanner. Either way, I have to wonder if the vampire really sucked the train of thought out of me that night I skipped though Fields of Gold. Since then my thought carrousel seemed to have crashed on a beach somewhere in Belize, such a shame too. I rather enjoyed that painted zebra that somehow symbolized the essay yet to be written.

Possible, it’s because of that bite that I’m having such a hard time comprehending the inevitable salad that’s to be server tonight at five. Could someone so inhuman actually think that sprinkling grated paupo sauce on my dinner was healthy? No, how could it be? The Tear Drops on his Sitar were a fine example of what the wretched powder would do to you. I for one would have nothing of the sort, spit it right back into the belly of Monstro I would do.  Sighing I stared up at the checker cloud that swam above the skylight, dancing shapes and patterns into the already deep blue atmosphere.

‘Like You’ll Never See Me Again’ the toaster on the wall sang, harmonizing with the Venus and the incredibly late rabbit that was now sipping back liquid strawberries at the table. I scoffed at the corny lyrics once used in a drawing of mine from far back. My carrousel had now spun around the word and the thesis that the World would End with You. Could that possible be? Ignoring and discarding that piece of thought I wandered over to the long black plether cloak that now hung on the refrigerator. My fingers felt along it plasticizes sleeves and I imagined it how it would look adding a pink floral wig. Or should I add an enormous scythe too. While the pot and the tea kettle argued over who was skydiving first I heard “W” once again sending subliminal messages though the lamp shade. I grudgingly stared at the Book of Pooh. This was another thing I had to do when I was in the snow at last; staple those pages back together.

The rabbits rushed thought the kitchen and in a blur I was sure I saw his head, blue as always. “W” would always reign supreme of the guinea pig. I passionately hoped that they weren’t too late and the caves pulled another cherry bomb spree. I supposed they were in remorse over the daughter but that did not give them the excuses to hack a PIN number. Just then the frog hurried in to pick up the marker and call the mice at their head quarters, notifying them of which almond milk to mix with the Sea Salt that would later be turned into Icecream. The paper crane chimes 1:33PM-

“Five minutes”

 “I couldn’t remember what she was like-”

“Ya, higher function,”

“Oh is that, learning disability vs-yeah…”

“There of course the 3d model…the price I have yet to pay.”

*sigh* -tickticktick- go the keys.

And now it’s over, the cat is demined to watching the children read as her broom closet slowly counts down the minutes-

The cat is ordered to go back

Damn.

Okay, this is a rant to skip if you so want.

Ven. That is what. Ven this little guys right here:

He looks so much like Roxas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! how dare there be.... I mean, really, i know some ppl look like others but THIS IS PUSHING IT! I mean, the guys identity has practically been shot to shit cause it's either gonna be the Roxas-look-a-like or... or. AkuRoku could possibly be endangered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *shivers* And that guys, he looks like Leon/Zack... grrr, this makes me made. THERS ONLY ONE ROXAS!

Well, If you need any other information you can find it at www.kh2.co.uk it has all answers.

P.s. I have nothing against ven himself.... just his makers.

The Dive

Seven.

There were seven seconds left, seven seconds to grasp control of her life. Seven seconds to assess the situation… seven seconds until the biggest overthrow in history would take place.

Some may have called her young to be doing this (the youngest one) but she considered herself simple 'the right age' and always would be. She stood at top of the second highest building in Yogato, formerly known at Tokyo, while she pondered this distraction once again. She suposed that age wouldn't matter soon enough, after all; she was a part of mission I², the soon to be leading species in the world.

The barren black land lay before her, to be used at her disposal. It was night, the air nipped and stung her throat: toxic, that’s what it was, the sun barely ever showed through the thick, back clouds, saturated with the pollution man had inflicted. She wasn’t part of man though; it wasn’t her fault her kind had been driven to these drastic limits. The land was already drained of all nutrients and it was all their fault. So there she stood at her post, the tallest building in the city, surveying the grey small structures before her.

Opening her mouth she let her fangs slide across her lips. Careful, she thought. Blood sent would give them away. Those beasts could smell a paper cut.

Her lungs burned like white, hot metal, forcing her to pull up her gas mask. Now only her grey eyes could be seen, whipped by strands of raven black hair.

What had this come to? Why? How had this happened? She knew the answer: because they could, because her kind had been hidden for so long, abused for so long, kept a secret. That’s why, that’s why she was doing this.

In the distance, something moved. Her head jerked towards the now dimly glowing light. A tiny orange glow off towards the darkened charcoal desert to her right, far in the distance, way out of town. Still, it glowed brightly as if it were close. She couldn’t get excited though it could be a trap, a set up. Sure she was one of the few who could see it but she had to wait for-

There it was, that musical sound that only her kind could hear, a song, a warring, a signal, it was all the same. She felt her blood rise and she could feel her heart begin to pound in her ears. Any second now…

“ALL SYSTEMS CHECK. 4 AND 8, YOU’RE GOOD TO GO! 23, 50, U FOLLOW.”

“SIR, 6, READY! EVERYTHING’S GOOD ON MY END.”

She heard a motor start up in her ear piece while the conversation took place in her right.

“GOOD LUCK TEAM.”

“DOUBT IT SIR, TO BE FRANK, WE ARE VERY DISORGANIZED!”

“Who cares, I doubt that will stop us.” She said. She could hear her own voice, cool, as always. There was a short silence and then the man on the radio spoke louder, that implied he was talking to her.

“45, WHO ARE YOU ANYWAYS?”

She stepped to the very edge of the building; miles below she could see the cracked, grey pavement. She smiled.

“A whole project together and we’ve never met.” She made a sound of contentment “Well, I can’t tell you.” She bent her legs and readied her self. A quick glance to the building beside her tolled her ‘any second now’, her blood pounded and for the first time in a while she felt very excited. She focused back to the man on the other side of the radio “I’m afraid is a secret.” At a glance she saw the light on her wrist band turned from red to green. She let herself go, diving off the edge of the building to begin the biggest overthrow in history.