-bearings -separating -apparently -origin -Just write something like "I heard a little girl scream" or "the girl screamed" Underlined: is this Italics: is this Bold: is this
Angel ------------------- Anything in itallics is in Angels language. A girl screamed. The sound came flooding into Angels ears. His head snapped to attention, unlike moments before, as he was asleep. He looked around. It took a while to get his bearings. It was dark. City in front of him and a canal behind, with a small stone wall separating him and the canal. He had been sleeping propped up against that wall. The scream came again. He had to do something. He got up and sprinted through the empty streets toward the noise. A little to empty... One final screem that was cut short led him to the area of its origin. He found the area in a rather wide back ally. In it was a few garbage cans, an either dead or dying girl lying in a pool of blood, and a man with a scar from his right forehead to his left jawbone and weird green and blue armor on, standing over her. "No!" Angel said. "Well, what a surprise to see someone else here. Its always nice to have guests." said the man, rather sarcastically. "Would you like some tea?" "You... You killed her!" "Oh, no. She's not dead. Not yet anyway." "What do you mean?" "That's not important right now." "I'd say thats pretty important! Whats more important?" "You." "Me?" "Yes" "What about me?" "Why you are here and who you are." "I'm here to save her and to stop you! Nothing else matters right now!" "I do not wish to hurt you. I have intrest in but one person." "I think you'll find it harder to hurt me than you think!" Said Angel, through gritted teeth. "We shall see." The man then began to transport from place to place hitting Angel at every stop. "natiska." Said Angel. He could have thought it or even just willed it, but he preferred to say it. Instantly two people that looked exactly like Angel appeared. They went in a triangle and fought off the attacks untill Angel cought on to the pattern. Left, right, right, left, right, left, left... He stuck out his arm where *he predicted the next movement. "Gyaaahh!!" the man screamed and flickered as Angel moved his arm around inside of him. He disappeared. Only to reappear a meter or so away... The three Angels quickly surrounded him and pinned him against a wall. Angel put binders on him. Binders locked the hands together but more importantly restricted use of power. They sat him against a wall. The two sub-Angels dissappeared. "That's strange..." "What is? Who are you?" questioned Angel. "I thought Angel was the only copier left. Yet here you are. I guess I was wrong." "I am Angel. Why were you looking for me?" "Ahh oh.. I asked but you didnt give me a name." "Given. I think you are forgetting something." "Am I?" "Who are you and why were you looking for me?" "I am Kaedus, and I bring a message for you." "Theres better ways to get my attention than killing people." "Like I said, She's not dead. Or hurt. Or real. Just a clever fake." "Ok.. And the message?" "There will be a time when you are outnumbered, outgunned, and outsmarted. In that time, use this." "A sword?" "Well, yes. But no ordinary sword. It channels the power of light. Solid light. It truely is a one and only." Angel took the sword. It was light. Ironic. It had a red handle with silver stripes qll over it at right angels.(like a chainlink fence type design). The blade was silver in color. Unknown in make. In the blade was carved the words 'Kanisika ta nish, va tal unil, meshik la berk.' Which is, 'If I charge, follow me. If I fall, avenge me. And if I retreat, kill me. "Its the sword of an ancient." Angel said, surprised. "Indeed it is." Angel strapped it to his side. The man flickered and disappeared. All that remained was a peice of black cloth with an emblem of red on it. Angel recognized it as the mark or the Ancients. He picked it up. After looking it over, he attached it to a black strip of cloth and tied it around his head. "Quite a night." He said to himself. Off he went back to his canal. Off to sleep.
Sorry this is late. Let me know if I need to add more or not. Slowly, silently, I strung my bow. My father's watchful eyes studied my every move. It made me feel edgy. "Must you stare like that?" I snarled. "Yes." was his short simple answer. So typical of him. I could see my target through the open window of the building next to me. Heck, from my perch on this building, I could just about see the whole city, though few could see me. It made for an easy job with good pay. Made harder by the fact that my father didn't trust me. "Account for the wind," he told me. I rolled my eyes, but did nothing else. I had already done that. 19 years old, and I still wasn't aloud to take down a target without his constant badgering. "I said, "Account for the wind," he repeated. If he could have raised his voice then, he would have, but he didn't. We had to keep quiet, otherwise we'd compromise the mission. "Already done, Dad." I said. "Of course it is. If you want your arrow to slice up the curtain." "It's fine, Dad." I said, struggling with my anger. "No, it's not. 5 degrees to the left." In a moment of anger and irritation, I turned to look at him. "Why don't you do it then?" I snapped. Unfortunately, the sudden movement of my turning caused the string to slip out of my hand. No, the arrow didn't hit the bedroom curtain. It hit my target. Though not in the most ideal place. He woke up howling as he tried to get the arrow out of his hand. I ducked, hoping I hadn't been seen. My father ripped the bow from my hands and grabbed an arrow. He penetrated the man's heart. Roughly, he grabbed my arm and led me to the other side of the building, where we descended using the rope ladder we climbed up earlier. As soon as I was down, my father lit a match and set the rope on fire. Then we ran in different directions. Our rendezvous was just outside the city, by a hollow tree in which we kept our weapons. When I emerged from the bushes, my father greeted me with an unwelcoming glare. I walked to the tree to put my knife away, but he snatched it from me and pocketed it instead. "You nearly cost us the mission." He yelled quietly. Yes, he yelled quietly. He has ways of doing that. It's quite creepy, actually. "It was your fault. If you had just let me shoot the arrow instead of correcting my every move, he wouldn't have felt a thing." "You should learn to control yourself." "You should have trusted me to do it without your help." "I didn't trust you because I knew something like this would happen!" "Well maybe next time-" "Next time? Ha! There won't be a next time! Your-" He stopped short, cocking his head as if listening hard. "This way, I hear something," an unfamiliar voice said. The guards were tracking us. In the pale moonlight, I saw my father signal to me. I shook my head, but I knew he would argue with me. He took off in the direction of the guards, and I had no choice but to run in the other direction. That was the last night I ever saw him. The next morning, I found out that he had been captured. I never did find out where he was, or if he had been given a death sentence or not.