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  1. Exercise writing for: Francisco Ignacio Morales "El conejo" and Jesus "Chuy" Mauricio Morales Nacho looked back on that day often. He thought, and because he thought, his brother thought, of the day in the lot. That day, they were messing around with a pigskin. The ball flew over the gate that separated the junkyard from the lot and before it registered he felt his brother's adrenaline spike his own blood. He pumped his arms racing across the lot and making for the chain link fence and slat. He rammed into Chuy, who crashed into the dirt with a thud, lost his breath, and made a grab for his brother's feet. Nacho jumped over his brother's hands and broke into a sprint. Chuy blinked and saw familiar hands grip the rusty slots of the chain link fence. "Cheater!" Chuy cackled rolling onto his back. The familiar hands climbed the fence, and looked back. Chuy was not afraid when he saw himself lying on the ground through his brother's eyes. It was reassuring to know he could leak into that other self and enjoy a body that hadn't gotten the wind knocked out of him. He decided to fold his hands over the pit of his stomach. His identity tended to get blurry when they "shared" as they called it, and feeling his hands on his own stomach and looking up at the smog-clouded sky anchored him to reality. He was Chuy. He was laying on the ground staring up at the clouds and catching his breath, while a living extension of himself, a being he called brother, hermano, Nacho, climbed a chain-link fence separating the scrapyard from the abandoned lot searching for a lost ball. You rest I'll get it. "You see it?" asked the other pushing himself off the ground. Nacho felt the other half disregard his advice. He gaited toward himself, at the same time scanning the scrapyard for the ball from the fence. Do you see it Nacho? Move your head... It is on-- --the left side Ok they thought. They caught sight of the ball a few steps away from the fence. He wanted to jump. Chuy felt a pang of fear that subsided as soon as Nacho jumped over the fence. He froze. He scanned the lot, and Chuy returned to himself. He grabbed his arm and wondered what the hell made him panic like that, not the jump. something else. He ignored the chicken skin rising from his forearms and waddled towards his brother. Nacho threw the ball at chuy, he didn't catch it. "You pushed me hard," Chuy grumbled. "No guey, you were laughing a second ago! Don't start a fuss now!" (That wasn't it) Chuy hated shielding his thoughts from his brother. It felt strangely dishonest. Like lying to himself. Nacho felt a little shiver run down his spine and interpreted it as guilt. He picked up the ball and pulled Chuy's mind towards his own to relieve his brother's pain. Then he swaggered towards him and locked arms with him. Both of the twins paused momentarily as their consciousness collected itself they saw four perspectives combine into two and then one. Chuy sighed with relief. "God, You're being weird today" Nacho said he didn't admit the combination also eased his mind. That he felt something distant and ominous race towards the brothers, and being together made it better. He didn't say the feeling had been welling up in the pit of his stomach. he only nudged chuy friendly and started for home. Nacho discovered the little cut when that night when he was slipping into his night clothes. He felt the a small burn on his upper arm on the outside part of his bicep. The cut was small but deep. He hadn't felt it when he jumped down the fence, but there must've been a sharp catch in the wire. He pulled a tub of ointment from the dull mirror cabinet in front of him, and covered it with a bandage wrap. He asked his brother for a borrowed strength and he complied without probing. Nacho continued the week wandering in and out of his own skin playing video games at the arcade and fixing gear in the garage when he could afford to. It brought small money. His younger twin brother-- Only by like 60 seconds still older --swung by and inhabited his head while he played or fixed, but he covered the pain emanating from his arm as to not worry him. One afternoon. He was taking an illicit smoke and sharing the high of the weed with his brother, when Lorena appeared on the block. lovely short honey-auburn haired girl. Their hearts trembled. Nacho tried to ignore the snippets of the impromptu date while he meddled with a car. Still, he caught snippets of the date. The smell of flowers, the taste of popcorn, fish, wasabi, and strawberry lipstick intruded his mind, all the while the image of Lorena danced in front of him. The way she wrinkled her nose made Chuy crazy. Nacho could only tighten his stomach to keep steady. He worked twice as hard to make the feelings go away. He chewed the stub of the smoke between his teeth and tried to differentiate between the work and the mind of his love-sick brother. He put the smoke out on the counter, hoping to squash out the sensations in his diaphragm with it. Next, he raised the car with a jack, pulled up a bed and rolled under to inspect the gas leak. He tightened the cap on a loose drain plug when his abs convulsed instinctively. He was under the car, but he felt the weight of a girl on top of him. She was running her strawberry-flavored lips along the ripples of muscle on his torso. He moaned, frozen. He could taste the nape of her neck on his tongue. Soft honey-brown curls and her soft skin as he slid up and down her body. The wrench dropped from his hand almost smacking his face. I love you he said, kissing her back. I love you so much. Please...I'm... He closed his eyes. Inside! He felt her body against his hips and scrambled to get out from under the car, but instead of metal he felt his hands groping blankets and soft skin. So much. Such a pretty thing Still shivering Nacho relit the stub of his cigarette and held it to his lips until the fire caught him. "Agh! Burns!" Chuy yelled falling backwards. "Chuy!" Lorena cried. She grasped a blanket to her chest and crouched over him. "E'htas bien?" she asked in her lovely accent. More throaty than his Spanish. "I (burned) bit ma lip," he chuckled, "Gosh, did I scare you?" Pili took the kettle off the stove. The atmosphere in the house was grim, but she didn't understand Why. She looked at her boys suspiciously. Not with jealousy, she convinced herself. Why would she feel jealous? But it was uncanny how the two synchronized their behavior sometimes. They seemed to be interconnected in some sort of circuit and no matter how much she loved them. How awfully bad she attempted to bond with her boys their was an awkward sensation that would always be more together with each other than with their own mom. She blew the steam off her tea and set it on the counter to cool. She tousled Francisco's long matte hair. Empapado de sudor "Cariño, give me your forehead," she asked. His skin felt clammy and hot. Her heart stopped. She tested his temperature with both hands, quickly and told him to stay in his seat. Get ahold of yourself, he is not running off when you look away, Pili, honey, sweetheart, she cooed. She took a thermometer from the drawer and told him to say AHHH. He complied and she stuck the thing in his mouth with pretend serenity-- as she could muster. He was running a 102 degree fever, so she made him take a cold bath (a commodity) she wouldn't allow her boys under normal circumstances, and put him to bed. At 3:42 in the morning Jesus shook her awake. "Ma," he croaked "Nacho's bad." She stared at the boy then flipped on all the switches as she made her way down his room. Her baby lay, with pallid yellowed skin, slowly rolling his head amidst soaking wet blankets. She picked up her 16-year-old son and draped him over her shoulder like a baby. He convulsed and threw up something sour and warm down her back. Pili winced, grabbed her coat, grabbed a purse and grabbed her boy. Chuy trailed behind her collecting money, keys, cards. "Help with him Chuy" she called just outside the door." Chuy pulled his brother's arm over his shoulder. The sensation of fire poured over his body took over, his skin crawled, and he fought hard the urge to pull away from his brother's sick mind. He was blinking in and out of his skin wondering who he was. The boys were framed in the rear view mirror hugging each other, whenever she looked back and it was silly, she knew, but feared losing Francisco would make her lose Jesus as well. That her boys would disappear in a flash of streetlight and she would be left alone listening to the headlights blink. "There is something wrong with my boy!" she cried at the secretary manning the desk. She turned over her baby, into the strong hands of a nurse, and she wanted to run after her screaming, but she only managed a defeated sob that had built over on the drive over here. Chuy followed her into the patient's room where the nurses ran his temp and asked about tests and cuts and scraps. They stuck needles into his arm and Chuy winced. After the blood work was complete. Chuy tapped the nurse on the shoulder. He felt sick and his hands looked pallid, but he managed to pull the man's ear close to his face and whisper something. The man looked at the boy. Then back at his brother. He pulled back his sleeve and revealed a pus-infected wound covered in bandage wrap just off the muscle off his shoulder. "Shit," he whispered.
  2. Twin One Brainstorm syn. skin: perma-tanned, sunburned, browned, bronze, bronzed, weather-beaten; More dark, swarthy, dusky hair: hazel, chocolate-colored, coffee-colored, cocoa-colored, nut brown; More brunette, mousy; untidy, messy, unkempt, disordered, disarranged, messed up, rumpled, disheveled, bedraggled; uncombed, ungroomed, ruffled, tangled, matted, windblown, wild; informal mussed up sepia, mahogany, umber, burnt sienna; beige, buff, tan, fawn, biscuit, camel, café au lait, caramel, mushroom; bay, sorrel, dun, brindle, brindled; auburn, tawny, coppery, chestnut, bronze, russet Clothes: I see a stringer tank top, crosses, hidden, tats, and baggy pants, hoodies bikes, tienditas, maquinitas, hoodies and bad parents, stray dogs, nicknames
  3. Trying Pomodoro timers to be more productive.


  4. Karla thought Avarice straightened out comically. She smelled it, before she knew it. Whatever was coming up next would be bad. She maintained her posture with her arms crossed across her chest and waited to hear it. Whatever it was. Uh-huh... There...Gachi chuckled to herself. Everyone knew that the city held itself in a chokehold: Louie, the governor, and the bastards busting the pub every other Sunday night. She wouldn’t be rewarded. There would be retribution if she were to break the rotten system in Silver Harbor. Nevertheless, a chance like this, though risky, was once in a lifetime. She had a crew and an operation manager with knowledge of the ins and outs of the system and if she didn’t grab this opportunity...how long would it take to find a new nest? “Perhaps even a house within the city itself. Something with a view of the Silver Hour.” Gachi glowered—a warning— a don’t do that which darkened her features. It emphasized the sockets of the skeleton under her thin mestizo skin. She was a hungry mangy a girl who hated being read. Hated it most when the reading was right. She ran the plan and a hand through her head and wondered how they would haul the junk out of the ship. She wanted to ask but was afraid Lynch’s answers would turn down Tara, so she brushed the matter of pay aside. “I’ll figure out how to haul my piece. But right now, it’s peak hour at the bar, so, y’see, I’ve got to run, luvvy.”
  5. Spring break is upon us! I'm free! I'll post immediately. I have something I cooked up before the accident, so it didn't take long to finish and edit it. I'll post it in the ICC. Kind of? My back feels out of place, nothing is broken. I'm just sore. I'll go to the chiropractor on Monday.
  6. Hey, my cousin and I had a car accident. I need to use the time I have available to rest and do some catch up work. I'm sorry. Would y'all skip me this round?
  7. reminder to self to do an interest check home>gen>water cooler>user lore ok, cool?
  8. Feel free to suggest stuff. This is mostly to a brain storm stream of conciousness thing I'm doing before finalizing some other stuff later stuff PRoper punctuation is totally optional and overatttted any way. So I think I'll make this 2 guys because I harldly write guys. The twins, probs hispanic because write what you know. and i like the idea of on of them getting partially grafted the boys are prepubescent, wild, funny little things,, and troublemakers plus flrits, they get on their mothers nerves and only come home for chow. think busy urban street these are the fucking kings of the arcade at martial town (BS but they'll get there soon enough). Blood over matter. Phsycic connection (exoperimental could be a drag, no?) i was thinking of one of the boys trying to sneak a peek of the club to see the dancers they have a mom, but she's super busy and I don't want her much in the story anyway. should I write at about the culture in MC, would that be crossing the line. probs not it's not like i'm writing cannon I want to make the ugly, smelly slums and pollution as colorful as shit!!!! I want the kids favorite place to be super Kawaii I would like to inject a little humor at this and food !!! I fucking forgot how fun it is to describe food, maybe their mom is a terrible cook or doesn't cook but buys takeout and ditching skool and oof I ran out of breath
  9. I enjoy skating at and i basically live at the library, not that I have had too much time to read recently--or watch TV---or sleep for that matter). Other hobbies include drawing, reading comic books, and crying over calculus, and hanging out with my friend Jude. (I've been trying to pick up video games for like...2 years now. But I'm too busy to actually learn the damn controls, and then I look at my saved shows on Netflix and....lose interest)
  10. Dizzy00

    General chat thread

    So...how do I properly post something in from Martial city? Its the head post (or is it thread??) on the leader board and I'd love to write something in the cyberpunk genre. With the arcade setting....and oof I'm here: Now what?
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