a-trying-writer

[a-trying-writer]

I still keep the cloth you gave me over my breast, where my heart beats. I stand by you, with the knife that has never betrayed me, ready to shed blood. I want to kneel before you, even when you kick me, so I can represent my admiration.

For every petty reason, I will hunt for you. For every curse, I will reply.

May we be bound forever and ever, as I follow you to the ends of earth and time.

[a-trying-writer]

(original wip)

It's another rainy night, which was rather unfortunate. David wanted to take Sophia out on a date to make up for the last time he couldn't make it happen. Work has been unexpectedly busy, with his boss always hounding him for schematics and updates on the upcoming project.

At least she didn't mind the change of plans, given how comfortable she seemed, relaxing on the king sized bed in his apartment.

As he made his way around the bed, David looked over at Sophia, taking notice of the scars on her body. Despite being thirty, her hair is already grey, making her seem older than she appeared to be.

"Stress and overworking myself really did a number to my hair," she tends to say, with that smirk on her face.

David couldn't really disagree with that, feeling as if he has been growing grey hair himself during his time working in the company, but at least he still has them, and his natural black color. He has always been proud of his good looks.

But good looks can only get so far, he thought, as he picked up the half empty wine glass on the bedside table next to Sophia. He didn't get this far without shedding some sweat and tears in the past, and with some blood that didn't directly come from him, nor was his at all.

Speaking of blood, he would need to get in touch with James. Sophia has recently met him to update him about the shipment coming in, and David couldn't help but notice some of the names on the list of mercenaries he has hired. While Sophia has been reliable to send off to some missions, he needs a reliable hacker to break into a rival company. It's a cutthroat business after all.

[a-trying-writer]

(Creative outlet poem)

I never let go of my rifle.

Not even for you.

We may share a strong bond, one that blurs between platonic and romantic.

But this is my way of living.

And you knew that, when we first met.

Is it possible to change now? With my blood stained hands?

I don't know...

[a-trying-writer]

(original short for a wip story.)

The weather was terrible tonight. The heavy rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon, which forced me to power through it as I ran down the alleyways. I see that some unfortunate folks have their laundry hanging outside their windows on ropes high above me. Ah well.

Once I had finally reached my destination, I pressed my thumb against the button next to the door. It fortunately didn’t take long for the buzzer to sound so I could get inside immediately. “Good evening, Sophia,” Doc spoke as he walked away from the front desk. “Business as usual?”

I sighed as I took off my hood, letting down my medium length grey hair that got a bit wet towards the bottom. “Just dropping off some info of your next shipment,” I said as I slid my dark grey jacket off, letting my torso finally breathe.

“Good!” He let out a short hearty laugh. “I appreciate your help in getting it for me. I might try to hire mercenaries soon to get some of the supplies then... Might cost a bit, but you know how it is.”

“All too well,” I replied as I looked around this dingy old waiting room. It’s a bit aged, given the dirt towards the bottom of the walls, but Doc hasn’t been able to get the robots working lately to clean them. No normal patient would visit this clinic, unless they really have to. Like me. I looked down at my arms, taking notice of the parts underneath the metal, where all the joints are connected. They are made from the finest material that water wouldn’t be able to rust them. Slim, but strong. Reliable as hell, but not deadly. Just like I requested.

But there are other reasons why I visit.

Doc walked out from behind the front desk into the waiting room to approach me. “You’re in tip top form,” he said, as he took my cybernetic hands into his own. “As I had expected. But you are wet, so come in, Sophia, and let yourself dry off.”

“Thanks Doc... I’m sorry for the floor.”

“It’s quite all right, since there are no patients coming in tonight. It gives me enough time to sort out my inventory and documents.” Doc escorted me from the waiting room to the back, and off to the side of the clinic where a sealed door is. With a swipe of his keycard it opened, and inside it is his little room where he sleeps in.

Medical books, tools, supplies are kept on one side, while his bed is placed against the wall on the other. He keeps his clean clothes on a rack, next to his desk. The door to the bathroom is right behind the entrance, and in there isn’t just a shower, toilet, and sink, but a washing machine and dryer too.

And it seems that he also keeps some of my clothes here too, as he made his way to the rack to pull out one of my shirts and pants. “I kept your underwear in the bathroom, right next to mine. Feel free to shower if you need to. The towels are at their usual place.”

“Much appreciated,” I said as I took my clothes and walked inside the bathroom. It’s surprisingly somewhat more spacious despite how small the room seemed, and well kept. I guess it’s somewhat understandable that Doc prefers to keep his private space cleaned compared to the rest of the clinic.

As soon as I changed, I hung up the jacket to let it dry, while I placed the soaked clothes into the washing machine. While I let them to clean, I stepped out and caught the scent of tea brewing. “Chamomile?”

“Yes. Would you like some?”

“Please.”

He nodded his head as he took out two cups from a small box. Thinking about it, I don’t recall seeing a kitchen in this building. “Hey, Doc? Where do you cook?”

“Oh, I keep a portable stove for that. I usually buy rice and other ingredients to eat.” His kettle is a self-heating device he bought for a hefty price. That I knew because I was with him when he bought it.

“I see...”

He poured the chamomile tea in two mugs, and handed me one with a flower design on one side. I love this mug. It’s cute. I don’t always travel outside the city to find authentic, live flowers, so this tends to bring a smile to my face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if I may ask, have you got in touch with Mr. Henriksen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, have you updated him yet?”

“Ah, right. Yeah, he knows, don’t worry. Whatever happens next, he can handle it, or so he tells me. All the time.”

Doc chuckled briefly, before taking a sip. “I trust that he could. But you don’t often update us on your status sometimes, Sophia, so I would be worried if I was him.”

I sighed heavily as I frowned. “I get that you’re worried, but I promised that I will always keep both of you updated, so you know. Don’t worry so much about me.” I lifted my left cybernetic arm and let my hand twist into a complete turn. “I know the risks of my work, and I know what to expect if I get caught, which won’t happen again.”

“I know you know, but if you happen to need to disappear for a while, just... let us know in advance, please. You tend to scare both of us whenever you go quiet for a few days.”

“Right, right.” I simply nodded my head in agreement. I don’t need another lecture, but I get where Doc is coming from. But, honestly, I don’t think David is as worried about me as much as Doc is. David often keeps tabs on people who work for him, outside of his more legitimate business. “I will make sure to let you know if anything bad happens. But otherwise, I believe I will be fine.”

“You have been taking jobs that are... much more ‘low down’ so to speak, haven’t you?”

“Anything that involves taking information from David’s rival company, or some other less risky odd jobs. And if I feel like it, I spend time doing part time work making deliveries. It helps get extra money on the side.”

“How’s that going?”

“Slow, but not so bad. Sure I deal with some people with horrible manners, but it’s nothing compared to the people I used to deal with in my old line of work. How about you, Doc? Have you been dealing with nasty clients?”

“I want to say it’s patient-doctor confidentiality, but I am not a ‘traditional’ doctor.” He shrugged with a smirk. “I had a particularly picky client a few days ago, wanting a set of new cybernetics, but kept changing his mind much to my frustration. While I am a professional, I really wanted to strangle him right there in that front desk. But thankfully, with my infinite patience, I was able to at least convince him to think it over, even if it did cost me some thousands of dollars.”

I chuckled as I nodded in understanding. “At least he didn’t try to blow you up, like one of your previous patients.”

“Thanks to you, Sophia.” Doc had finished his drink and set aside the mug to lay down on his bed. Given our height difference, it’s easy for me to do the same once I drank all the tea as well, and held him close. He smelled like antiseptic, as usual.

Despite how strong it was, I was able to sleep comfortably too long after.

[a-trying-writer]

(semi vent poem.)

As I gaze as my hands,

I began to think,

That these aren't my hands.

As I look at my reflection in the mirror,

I began to think,

That isn't my face.

But they are.

And they always have been.

Why do I suffer from these thoughts,

Of being disconnected?

Of no longer feeling human?

I had suffered from much,

And yet this is the worst I felt.

But perhaps it's the weight of the past years,

Crushing me down into myself,

That I can't recognize myself anymore.

Am I really me?

I don't feel like me anymore.

[a-trying-writer]

Up, down, left, right,

I could see your face had gone pale.

Right, left, down, up,

I'm not a person filled with regrets.

Left, down, up, right,

But I hope you don't hate me for taking you with me.

Down, up, left, right,

I just think you would like the world that exists beyond your box.

Ah, you're dizzy...! Sorry!

[a-trying-writer]

(original poem.)

I'm exhausted, and yet, I still carry this blade.

My body, marked with wounds and scars, please for peace as I stumbled forward.

I want to stop, but my mind keeps pushing me forward.

"Just a little more," it tells me. "You will get there."

What "there" is, I'm not sure.

But I'm trying, fighting, for another day. Another tomorrow.

/

In this world of darkness, a figure in metal armor falls before my door.

I've always been told to not let strangers in, and yet, I felt sorry for the poor soul.

What if they were loved? What if they were missed?

I am not a fighter, nor am I much of a nurse, but I like to help when people need it.

A bit of kindness is all we need to help each other.

[a-trying-writer]

*me trying to bond with someone*

[a-trying-writer]

I love baseball

[a-trying-writer]

(Short poem.)

I could feel your teeth against my throat.

I admit, some part of me desires this.

But I have too many people who would be saddened by my death.

So I will continue to struggle against you.

I will learn how to continue to fight you.

Because I too want to believe that there is something better than this.

A field of flowers that I could sleep in.

[a-trying-writer]

(small smut outlet / srhk fic)

Capricious bit her lip to smother a moan that nearly escaped her, while running her hands through Racter's silver bair. The sensation of his tongue plunging inside her was pleasant, but she enjoyed how his fingers dug into her thighs. Perhaps she should take him up on his special offer...

[a-trying-writer]

(short hohu fic.)

Even if it was a bit greedy of her, Cat couldn't help but sneak a kiss on Maison's cheek before returning to her book, content. It took the man-eating house off guard, but his smugness soon got a hold of him, and he couldn't stop grinning. Little moments like this wasn't so bad, the two thought.

[a-trying-writer]

(srhk short - semi suggestive)

Even though the nightmares had ended, Capricious still had trouble sleeping. She already had done her stretches, cleaned her board, and her room and bathroom, but her body felt restless.

Three in the morning, and she still couldn't sleep. It was starting to get frustrating. She could go down to the basement to bother Racter, but he told her that he was going to be too busy to entertain her, which means that he also needs his space, which she understands. And everyone else is asleep.

She could take a marker and write something on Duncan's face. But that would only be fun for a few minutes.

A short groan growled in her throat, as she rolled over her bed for the upteenth time.

Probably it would be for the best that she get some fresh air instead.

As she was about to get up, Capricious heard the scratch of a match on a box, and saw a flame burn in the hall outside of her door. She stared directly into Racter's eyes as he turned to her, and he smirked from amusement. "You're awake," Capricious pointed out, surprised.

"And you as well it seems."

"Do you need the shower?"

"No... Well, not now."

"All right." Capricious slightly tilted her head as the two sat in silence for a minute. "Can't sleep?"

"If you weren't a criminal, I'd say you'd make an impressive detective, my friend."

She let out a snort. "It's not every night I see you out here, Racter. Which brings me to wonder..."

"Why I am up here instead of my workshop," he continues, as he steps inside her room and leans against the wall. "I have long finished my latest work, but I will have to do some tests to see if Koschei can handle it. That will unfortunately have to wait until I have gathered all the parts to create it."

"Running out of resources? That sucks."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"You know, since I can't sleep yet, I can do a quick smash and grab for you if you want, Racter."

"Tempting offer, my friend, but what I need isn't something you can easily find. Some of the materials I work with are much more valuable than you'd think."

"Is there anything I could do to help with that?"

"No... But perhaps you could help me waste the night away."

Capricious paused to think. Before realizing what Racter could be implying, and felt her cheeks blush. "Now that's a bigger surprise." She chuckled. "I thought you want some space."

"And you gave that to me, my friend."

"Right... Well, since I can't sleep, I think it would be fun. Just locked that door for me please."

It's truly not every night that this happens, she thought, as she watched him seal that door. She just hopes that she won't be so loud.

[a-trying-writer]

(original poem/short of sorts.)

I am a woman, dressed in black metal that I stole from royalty. My head shielded in a helmet that carries a beastly smile. My gloves carved into claws that could pierce even the most durable armor.

I took down knights of all kinds with just my fists, and took their power for myself. The supposed strongest could never stop me. Not even the highest ranked knights that were guards of royalty.

Until I met the one man who stared at me with his helmet that carried a mocking smile. I swore I had him at the edge. I slashed at his neck that should had been exposed. But he still stood, and carried a second helmet in his arms.

He kicked me back and waved his helmet in the air above me, before tossing it towards me. It was similar to his mocking smile. "We will meet again," he told me, before falling off the edge willingly. I dashed towards it to see if he fell into the water below, but there wasn't a splash or a ripple.

A sigh escaped from me. I turned back to the helmet to pick it up. I could replace my current one with it, but that mocking smile...

I hate it.

Despite how I could feel about that knight.

[a-trying-writer]

(short suggestive srhk fic.)

As Capricious tried to catch her breath, she allowed herself to bask in the glow, with Racter still on top of her. Even though she may feel some discomfort later, these visits to his workshop have been nice, especially with how he keeps indulging her more risky ideas. Being bound never felt so good.

Her brother may judge her for her actions when he sees the marks on her neck, but it's not like it's a secret anyway. He just didn't want Capricious to get hurt again, given her track record of terrible relationships in the past.

But this is different. Or so she tells herself. Despite how she feels about the Russian, this is more about her indulgence. Her needs. And Racter seems happy to give her what she wants, for his own entertainment.

But there is that what if. What if he feels for her the same way she does for him. It's unlikely, but never say never.

Still, she knows better than having hope for him. And she prefers having sex with no strings attached. Who knows when things will go tits up, and something happens to them during a run? Their occupation is too risky for anything more than physical intimacy.

"You're frowning again, my friend," Racter spoke up, startling Capricious. A smirk plays on his lips as he continues, "Are you not satisfied this time?"

A sigh escaped from her as she brushed her hair stuck to her face to the side. "I am," she replied. "I'm just overthinking as usual."

"Something you wish to share?"

"No... It's nothing. Do... Do you mind if I rest here for a bit, Racter?"

"You will need to get clean, my friend."

"I will. I just want to rest a bit."

Racter hummed thoughtfully before nodding. "Very well."

"Thanks." Capricious smiled at him.

Well, whatever will happen, happen, she thought. For now, it's for the best she enjoyed herself with him.

[a-trying-writer]

(original short. rough draft. unfinished. i have an idea im juggling with here but time will tell what will happen.)

My mom often tells me that I am capable of things beyond what I think.

"Excuse me," someone muttered as they bumped into my shoulder as we walked passed each other, nearly knocking my headphones off from my head. "It's all right," I replied, even though they are already long gone, and I adjusted the headphones back on.

It's not that I don't believe her.

I quickly climbed on the bus that was around the corner, with that familiar faceless driver. He tipped his hat towards me, his usual way to greet his first passenger, as I swiped my card on the reader to pay my fee. Once I sat on one of the many empty seats, I stared outside the window, watching the unknowing civilians walk by.

I just don't want to reach those incredible heights she'd often told to me about.

The bus' engine roared as it began to move. Despite how loud the music I played was, I could still hear it through my headphones. Something that I found myself grow so used to since I first road it. When static started to play instead, I looked up to see a large blob standing above me. I patted the empty beside me with a smile, hoping that is enough of a tell that they are welcomed to sit there.

Once I retreated my hand, they moved their shapeless body to sit. I gave them a nod and returned my attention back to the world outside the window, which is now just a void. The music resumed playing, leaving me to stay inside my own world, as more and more beings came on board.

It's a little odd, to be the only human on this bus. But circumstances lead me to this life, and I can't complain.

Once I reached my destination, I gave the blob a smile and a wave as I got up from my seat, and gave the driver a thumbs up, which he returned with another tip of his hat. I climbed off the bus to find myself in front of a large library.

I took off my headphones to put them away in my messenger bag, and took out a cap with the library's name stitched into it. Once I adjusted it on, I walked up to the front entrance and opened the frosted glass door.

"Good morning!" my boss shouted as she floated down from the ceiling, and gave me a wide smile. She is only a head with dark hair tied up in a bun. "Wonderful timing! There is a mess that needs to be cleaned up on the fourth floor."

"How bad is it?" I asked firmly.

"Oh... well... Aside from the books being everywhere - and I mean everywhere! - There is some weird... thing that wants to live there now. Can you deal with it? I mean, you're the janitor and all, so..."

I let out a deep sigh as I rolled up my sleeves. "I am the only janitor, Jessie. Might as well."

"Right! Right... Well... Good luck! The tools are in the closet, as usual." With that, she floated away.

I wonder what waits for me up in the fourth floor... I guess I should be extra prepared just in case.

I took out the usual cleaning supplies - bucket, mop, broom, trash bags, sprays - and a knife, even though I don't think it's enough. I couldn't find anything, like a flamethrower, to make sure I can be sure that whatever is up there is dead, so that extra preparation idea is kaput.

Plus, I don't think Jessie would be happy that I had to use it. Even if the books here are basically indestructible compared to normal ones, there is always that chance that she'd have those in stock too.

Ah well. It's time to do my job.

[a-trying-writer]

(inspired by a dream.)

He appears when you are lost. In the dark alleyways, in an abandoned building, in a park at midnight. His pale complexion often gets him mistaken for a vampire, but he isn't one. His mismatched eyes were caused by a fight he got into once, which left the scar on his right one. He is a thin man, wearing a white button up shirt, grey slacks, and a matching coat that hangs off his shoulders. His dark hair is slicked back, revealing his strong clean face. Some could call him handsome. Others could never felt comfortable around the man.

But when he appears, he can make a deal and guide you out of your unexpected detour. It's something of an IOU, that will eventually get repaid. It's hard to say if he is evil, but he is aloof and distant. Perhaps he is a lonely man. No one is ever too sure. Whatever the reason is, he doesn't seem to be a bad man, just a deal maker, with strange powers. Once he takes your hand, you will reappear in a different place. A safer road, to your next destination.

Gary, they call him. Mr. Gary if you want to be formal. A man that walks on thin air as he appears before you, and a man that can appear when you least expect it.