Standard Question

The most standard question is "What are you going to be when you grow up?" What a stupid and utterly pointless question to ask. Most of the time, the person in question has only lived barely a quarter of their lifespan, and more often than not, cannot read the future.

What other answer can there possibly be, other than "Me."

Samus Cosplay

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Prrr~ Mother did a great job here~ that's one thing I love about Mother, she doesn't ever  pretend to be something she's not, well, when she's not "getting into character" or "cosplaying"...

~Muffen ='w'=

Murder - Detective Christopher Lane

   My job isn't an easy one. How cliche is that? Looking for pity as an opening. Well, even if I were just a regular cop in the bustling city of San Francisco, my job would be hard. I'm a detective for a special agency. An agency dedicated to the unknown and "un-natural".
   The title is very misleading. The term un-natural implies that they aren't supposed to be here. In actuality it's the other way around, humans are the youngest and everything "un-natural" was here before us. As such, my job is to gather information from the inhuman population of San Fran. It's bigger than you might think. I use this information to solve crimes and keep the peace, as well as keep the secret from the regular populace. 
   My main informant is a creature posing as an Antique Shop owner. A shape-shifter is his species' more common name. "Riokuvin" in his natural tongue. He has lived longer than three of my family's generations combined. He may not be older than time, but his species is, and it's almost astonishing combined with the fact that he doesn't look a day over 34.
   Recently, there was a case I needed help on. I begrudgingly sought out his help and information. My partner was meeting him for the first time, and I suppose I could excuse her excitement and bewilderment on my blatant dislike of him. She found out soon enough why I try (in vain) to keep emotional barriers between myself and this charming and laid back person.
   She was filling him in on what we knew as he glanced over the case file, sipping his favorite frozen coffee. When she finally asked his opinion, he replied with something that shocked the both of us, and I'd known him far longer than Detective Vena.
   "Why bother? Stopping this particular species is next to impossible for you humans, it's suicidal. Just leave him be. He's not killing anyone of importance."
   He goes by the name of Ethen Blackwater the 3rd, and usually has a bored expression, eyes always half closed. Sometimes he looks and acts so human, and I suppose that's the point, that I forget. Forget that he doesn't care. Isn't fazed by murder or the loss of human life.
   "A life has ended! Therefore they are important!" My partner stubbornly argues. She's speaking to uninterested ears. She doesn't know what kind of man-no-being he is. Surprisingly he answers her.
   "Humans vastly overestimate their value. You are overpopulating this planet to the extent that the ones before you are getting irritated, just barely excluding my own race. Be content this is all that is happening. Learn your place."
   I will never forget the way those inhuman copper eyes, clouded with knowledge no human could ever obtain, became colder than ice itself. Nothing ever forces those half closed eyes to open all the way. That chilling indifference to death, the way he spoke of humans, make it impossible to forget that he is very much inhuman.


   His heart is as cold as the indestructible crystal that it is made of. Copper eyes reflect it for open display.

Ghost - PoI Fanfic drabble

Title: Ghost
Summery: Finding a purpose. The life of a ghost is far better than the life of a dead man. Reese's POV
Word Count: 179
Author's Note: Another drabble done for my creative writing class. Kinda what I was going for, yet not at the same time... Reese and his internal struggle... nothing new...


   A purpose. Something that drives your very being into action. Sometimes it even save you from the pits of despair. I hadn't had a purpose in over a year. Without a purpose to guide me, I let myself sink farther and farther down, until my entire soul was nearly lost forever.
   Through circumstance, I wound up facing a ladder. A ladder titled "Purpose" that could lead me to the outer world. Lead me, but not allow access to. I had already thrown away my pass into normalcy and light. So I will settle for borderline sanity and watching from the shadows.
   Living as a ghost is far nicer than living as a dead man. A dead man does nothing but suffer alone. At least as a ghost I'm not alone in my sorrows. That is because my purpose, my key to becoming a ghost, was given to me by an unknown, mysterious stranger. But a stranger with honesty and an amusing intelligent glint that will keep a shell of an earnest smile on my face for a while yet.

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Mweor, Mother did a good job. Though I'm beginning to think she needs to spend less time on watching this "Person of Interest" and start paying attention to someone of real interest-me! Nyaa!

~Muffen ='w'=

Ten Minute Fast Write - Prrr

Title: Color -Person of Interest Fanfic
Summery: After S01Ep08 "Foe", Reese brings Finch his tea. And plays a bit of a guessing game...
Word Count: 185
Author's Note: Uncreative title is uncreative. In Reese's point of view, and written for my creative writing class's "ten-minute, one page" timed write. I'd been walking around trying to limp like Finch, in hopes of inspiration for a fanfic by getting into character. I'd even tried Green Tea (which I normally don't drink since I'm not a coffee or tea drinker) and did my best to limit my neck movement since I don't know which three vertebrae are fused in his neck... And after two days of that, I finally do a little fanfic, and it's in Reese's pov. :| Why was I even limping around the school, up and down three flights of stairs trying to make it to class on time if I write in Reese's point of view!?


   During one of my mornings chosen to sneak up on the secretive Mr. Finch, I apparently annoyed him more than surprise him. He must have started to get used to my stealth after working together for this long.
   A witty and humorous argument ensued my entrance and soft "Hello, Finch." He once more questioned if I ever plan on knocking, which I just smirked in response since he already knew the answer.
   Finch scowled through his glasses and turned his body back to the computer monitors and countless surveillance footage. I leaned in and put a hand on the back of his chair, which caused him to stiffen slightly, but nothing more.
   "Hmm. Green."
   This caused Finch to pause in his typing and mutter in a dead pan, "I beg your pardon?"
   I grinned like a cat and straightened up, "Green. Your favorite color." In the few moments it took for him to respond, I placed down the cup of Green tea one sugar next to him on the desk, a rather smug look on my face.
   "... You'll have to do better than random guessing, Mr. Reese."

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Prrr~ Mother did great on this one. She was acting funny before she wrote this, acting like one of her legs was bad, and when I cuddled her, she wouldn't bend her neck to nuzzle me like she usually does, nyaa.... I'm glad it was just an act. Mreow, you humans are so weird.

~Muffen ='w'=

Remember

(This Picture is not part of assignment. - Taken by Mother, picture is of myself: the wonderful Muffen)

The act of remembering brings with it a certain interest. Before there is remembering, there must be something worth remembering. Otherwise, the mind will treat it as useless information and toss it aside, replacing it with something it deems worth its space. Thus the act of remembering is very fickle as well as selective. Something that interests someone may not interest another person, therefore one of them may forget it while the other remembers it.

Things of interest is what it all comes down to, things that stand out among all the mundane activities of our daily lives. There are times when we remember things that are not overly interesting, purely because they have been forcibly driven into our skulls. Things of interest are commonly things such as music lyrics, catchy phrases, and things that relate to our passion. Remembering is something that builds you as a person. So try not to forget who you are, or you won't be anymore.

Mreow

Mreow. Welcome. My name is Muffen Whisker Zappy, and I've formally taken over my mother's computer and blog.  Well, one of her blogs. The one I decided not to take over is this one: http://fictionofmyownworld.blogspot.com/

Mother made these blogs for school (someplace that makes no sense to me), and for a class. But Mother is often tired, so I'll be posting in her steed. She of course does all the hard work, there's no way a cat who's only 7 could do her 12th grade homework, nyaa! I often don't understand you humans, but I like to think I've got the basics down. Though please forgive me if I'm confusing, nyaa.

Off to go harass my elder brother, the scardy cat. Mreow~!