I Have An Essay To Write And Instead Im Baking Macaroons Wish Me Luck.

I have an essay to write and instead I’m baking macaroons wish me luck.

ok so there’s a game me and my friends play called “don’t get me started” and basically someone gives another person a random topic and they have to go on an angry rant about it and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us at parties and car rides so I highly recommend playing sometimes with your friends

this deserves more recognition

will could, however, will WON’T. will wood, but he is very sleepy.

“Devo-” Minos started again, but the man shot him a sharp look.

“We’ve been over this,” Devo told him tiredly. “We can’t afford the resources, and even if we could, we’d have to deal with the fact that he doesn’t need us alive, okay?” Minos scowled. “Look, as much as I’d like to save her, we can’t.” He glanced over at Eris for support, who sighed. He reached out to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he flinched back.

“I don’t have to deal with this today,” Minos growled. And then he was gone.

“You don’t think he’d-”

“He’s reckless, not stupid. He’ll be fine.”

---

“You can’t-”

“He’s busy-”

“Who do you even think you are, barging in here-”

Nero slammed the door open.

“Where the heck is Minos?” Devo stumbled back.

“Nero, what-”

“I’ll ask you again.” Nero slammed him against the wall, causing bystanders to let out screams and gasps. After all, who dared challenge their leader if they wanted to live? (The last guy was killed, shot with his own pistol.)

“Where. Is. He?”

“I don’t know!” He cried out. “He disappeared last night after we told him-”

“About what?”

“Accuri offered us a deal,” Devo choked out. “Minos for-” Nero dropped him, his body hitting the ground with a thud. 

“Why would you tell him that?” She shouted.

“He deserved to know!”

“You knew he would go off and get himself killed!”

“I mean, logically Accuri wouldn’t kill him-”

“I don’t care about logically! What did Mrs. Evenson say about this?”

“...”

“Devo!”

“How could we tell her her adopted son is wanted by the most infamous psycho in history?” Nero scowled, her hands balled up into fists.

“You have got to be kidding me. I break out of that hellhole to find out that you two, the people that were supposed to take care of him while I was out- for only two weeks no less- managed to lose him?” Eris laughed. She turned on him. “Go on,” she demanded. “What’s funny about this? Your boyfriend just got kidnapped-

“Nero, it’s been four years. We’re long past two weeks. Pretty much everyone thought you were dead. Minos and Devo held a memorial, since we didn’t have a body.” Nero blinked twice, shot a final glare at Devo, and left the room. Curious bystanders watched as she went past, whispering their own rumors.

“Is that the one that killed Hyperion?”

“Room 26, maybe?”

“Do they know each other?”

And more frequently:

“Is she an asset or an enemy?”

“Traitor from the first war?”

“Another god?”

“Eris,” Devo said. “I think we need to make an announcement.” Eris sighed.

“Yeah, probably. Then we should probably save Minos from whatever mess he got himself into.”

“You’re not worried?”

“It’s Minos Evenson. He could probably dumb luck his way out of anything. Besides, Accuri would have called to gloat if he had him.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He paused. “Wait, should I be worried about the fact that Nero’s been missing for four years and we have no idea where she went?” Eris laughed.

“Brain damage really did something to you, didn’t it?” Devo smiled.

“Yeah, probably.”

Prompt 3

Whumpee’s team knows they were captured, but it would be too big of a risk to go rescue them. It’s an ambush waiting to happen. All of their teammates take turns trying, begging Leader to go rescue Whumpee (Maybe they’re the youngest, the baby of the team?) But Leader keeps refusing. They have to put the entirety of the team before just one person.

Eventually, months, years later, when Whumpee either escapes, or Whumper decides they’ve outlasted their use, Whumpee returns to the team’s base. What do they say? To the team? To Leader? Do they say anything at all?

Times are troubling and hard right now-but never forget, your Beet loving Grandmother loves you very very much and wants you to be safe.

And for you to eat your vegetables.

I stand on the precipice of a funeral for pride, a bouquet of wilted carnations and dead lilies. I walk the thin line between world of decay and life, reality and lies as my fingers curl into fists. The coffin is lying open, ready for anyone to climb in and see the mangled, bloody body of the dead. People stand with open arms and machine guns as the aisle thins into a sharp point, guiding itself to fingers and hands.

Lapel pins and needles, fingernail polish and the acrid scent of smoke, beautiful and perfect. Their dress was once white, their eyes once blue. Colors often associated with angels, purity, and beauty.

Red is the devil’s color, so are they the devil’s child? Red, the color of evil, blood, anger. Red, the color of love, passion, attention.

Why does the world fall apart at the mere thought of something wrong? Why does it weep and romanticize, color and erase? Why does it smile only to cry, write only to dream?

Do they not notice that it is fine? Do they not notice that it is a dream? Do I not notice when pride drops dead and nobody else-

The sunrise is beautiful, a work of art placed in a work of words. Yellow, blue, and the consistency of unoriginality.

I do not care for the flowers or the church bells ringing out the end of service. I do not care for the friends making claim on weekend plans. I do not care for the quietness of an empty room. 

The stars are beautiful tonight. I wonder why they’re so bright and beautiful. Science and chemical compositions do not do justice to the wonders they posses.

I am sorry.