About This is my second novel ever, and my NaNoWriMo book of '11.
Turbatus, a Summary Jackie Brown has discovered he is Turbatus. A disorder. A mutant. Some even say he's a magician. But not everything is a gift. As if he didn't have enough problems at home with his only parent out of work and being rejected by everyone, he has the power (more like burden) to change fate- although he tries not to use it. Now he must deal with fate, an obsessed business man hunting his power down, and what others think of him.
An Excerpt Cliff opened his eyes. Cliff was sitting in the corner of a giant bird cage. That's right, a bird cage. He focused his eyes on his hands. They were scraped up, and they burned like lemon juice had been splashed on them. He didn't smell too fantastic either. His jeans were soaked with filth, and reeked like- you don't want to know. His shirt also stank also, and was torn across all across his chest. The weird thing was, his bow and arrow kit was still slung over his back. He looked up to see Ash dead asleep from the transportation, and Ginny lighting a smile at him. "I knew you'd be up sometime soon," She piped. "By the way, you talk in your sleep." "Aghh," he grumbled, still looking at his painful gash on his arms. "Oh gosh, you’re bleeding! I would get you a first aid kit but-" she glanced behind the bars. "He can get a little feisty sometimes." Cliff turned to the left to see a wolf. Not any wolf, this one was about the size of a full size lion, with snow white fur except for the tail and feet, which were colored grey. His eyes could be seen a mile a way, they were such a piercing aqua shade. He glanced at the wolf's teeth. Definitely some big fangs there. He heard a low pitched growl that echoed through the bars. "Woah!" he jumped. "That's Ulric," a juvenile voice smirked. "Yeah, you don't want to mess with that Lupus." "Lupus?" In the corner stood a girl, about eight years old. She wore a white tank top, a leather vest and flare jeans. She had dark, braids tied to two ponytails, with two blue streaks that said "don't mess with me", but her big chestnut eyes said "I've gone through a lot, please help me out". "I'm Julia," she held her hand out out for Cliff to shake. Cliff shot a confused look at Ginny. "I know why your here. I can help you." "Hi, I'm Cliff, that's Ginny, and the guy over there is Ash. Where'd you come from? And what do you mean by, 'going through?" "She explained everything," Ginny said Cliff didn't believe her, even if she was the cutest thing he ever laid eyes on. And she was adorable with her little spiked choker and dark leather jacket. "Well, you're Turbatus, of coarse," she said bluntly.
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About A random story I cam up with while at the hair salon. I think it might be a short story or a whole book. We'll see.
Chapter 1
I’ve always caught myself thinking, Is it too much to ask for a little something exciting in my life, a little adventure, a challenge? I’ve always dreamt of something different to try. A little spice added to the old, bland pot of routine I am used to. It usually is composed to this: getting up at around ten o’clock in the morning, practice my almost-famous monkey swing down the stairwell, and grabbing a overflowing bowl of Cap’n Crunch. I curl up in my dad’s old leather office chair and set up for a lesson via video chat. I greet my teacher with a brief “hello,” and we start talking about tiny amebas or whatever she has planned for today. After school, I take a nap and usually microwave
ramen (the kind where you provide your own bowl, Daddy says the Styrofoam
creates some kind of hazard?) and sip. When it’s sunny outside, (which is almost
never, in Colorado
it rains a lot) I go skateboarding sometimes until dark, and briefly greet my
dad from work. So, as I was saying. My life is pretty boring. Correction: WAS.
Ok, it was time to stop daydreaming about the past. I had business to attend to. I lifted the AK-47 up to the graphitized brick wall, hands tense and greasy. I pulled the stell-like trigger. An ear popping explosion stole my balance and I landed on the cement ground. And it burned! Trying my best not to scream because that meant my mission was a failure, I climbed back up and carefully brushed the rubble off the gun. This baby needed to be in mint condition in order for me to return it. After the gun was in its case, I lugged it behind a garbage disposal in the alleyway. No way was I scared. Me? Christabell Anderson scared of a dark alley, possibly filled with raccoons, creepy men determined to sell me illegal things, and spiders? Not a chance. Ok, maybe I was a little scared.
Back to the point. I had two hours and counting to get what I needed amd get out so I quickly jumped into the wall I had previously demolished a whole into. Inside there contained three pipes. The one farthest to the left was the smallest, and it was barely big enough for me to squeeze into. The second one was equally small but was home to a few birds, with eyes that told me not to cross with them.
The third one had plenty of room for me to crawl into, but it had muddy water spilling out on the ground like a fountain. But the question was, which one was not which could get me there the least messiest, the question was, which pipe led to the conference room? I took out the grimy and very smelly blueprints. I grimaced. I had to take the last one, the wet, muddy, disgusting one.