Ok, jag vill skriva, men vet inte vad jag ska skriva på. Så jag plågar er med 3 mindre långa utdrag, så kan ni tala om för mig vilken jag ska skiva på. Ok? Ok. se nska jag inte plåga er mer med mina kansigheter på någon månad.....
Klipper och klistrar så skyll på FL för formateringen.
Text 1:
?Fuck it?, he said out loud. ?I?ll just lie here ?til the others come back in two weeks.?
Having said that, he felt a little less miserable, so he tried to sit up. His foot throbbed painfully, and his head said no! don?t do that! Every movement made him nauseous and he was seeing double. He closed his eyes to clear his head.
?HEY!?
Alex's eyes snapped open. A man stood over him.
?You?re awake?, the man said with half a smile. ?It?s kinda stupid to sleep on the ice, you know.?
Still seeing double, Alex blinked and thought.
?I didn?t mean to?, he muttered.
?No kidding?, said the man. ?I know that you lot can be an eccentric bunch, but this? Are you all right??
The man stretched out a hand, expecting Alex to take it.
?One?, Alex said trying to sit up by himself, but his head was still protesting. ?What do you mean ?you lot? and two, why do I recognize you? All three of you??
?Double vision, is it?, the man asked, crouching down beside Alex and helping him sit. ?Maybe I should call an ambulance after all.?
Alex grimaced. He was mortally afraid of anything having to do with hospitals.
?I?m fine. You didn?t answer my questions.?
?You?re not fine. You probably have a concussion. Can you stand??
He helped Alex up. Getting to his feet, Alex felt the pain in his foot again and faltered. His helper held on to him.
?Your foot?, he asked.
Alex nodded.
?Must have twisted it?, he muttered. ?Could you answer my questions??
?If you at least let me help you home and call someone who can sit with you. You shouldn?t sleep if you have a concussion.?
?No one to call, they?re out of town.?
?Then I?ll stay with you. Someone has to.?
?Yeah, thanks, but you have a life of your own. Do yourself a favor and don?t get dragged into mine.?
?Too late. Whereto??
Resigning to the kindness this man obviously harbored, or maybe it was just Alex wanting it to be kind-ness, he pointed.
?Over there.?
They started to walk toward the apartment complex. For Alex, every step was sheer pain, in his foot or in his head. He tried not to use the foot too much. It was slow walking, but soon he felt like he had run a marathon.
?I meant musicians?, the stranger said suddenly.
?What??
?When I said that you lot could be eccentric. I meant musicians. Alex Gabriels.?
?You know my name. But then, everybody does.?
?Most people know my name, as well. You said you recognize me. I peg your inability to place me down to you being drunk and having a concussion. I?m Kevin Reesi.?
Alex grimaced. Of course, he thought, Stupid me.
?How drunk were you anyway?, Kevin asked.
?Not nearly as drunk as I wanted to be?, Alex replied bitterly.
?Maybe you?d been more careful if you?d been that drunk?, mused Kevin.
Alex fished his keys out from a pocket. He was trembling and sweating from pain now, and could barely unlock the door. The fingerprint and iris scan felt like it took forever. Once inside, he collapsed on the nearest chair in the kitchen.
Kevin hung his coat at the rack, took off his winter shoes, and looked around. So this was how the richest man in the world under 25 lived. Fashionable, but rather impersonal. Almost like a page in a catalogue. Rather strange, actually. In all interviews, Alex seemed like a very personable guy, who made everything his own. Apparently not so with the place he lived. And the rumors seemed like they could be true. Alex didn?t have a girlfriend, there was no such thing as a woman?s touch in this apartment.
He went into the kitchen and helped Alex take off his boots and jacket. About time, too, Alex's foot was swelling.
?Do you have any kind of medical supplies?, he asked.
?Maybe. In the bathroom.?
Kevin walked across the entrance hall to the bathroom.
?I thought you were a teacher?, Alex shot after him.
?And I was under the impression that you were a rather clever guy. Apparently, we don?t know much about each other.?
?You?re not a teacher??
?No, I?m a professor.?
?Semantics?, muttered Alex as Kevin came back with gauze, tape, and scissors.
?Perhaps?, he said pleasantly. ?Do you need help taking off your pants??
Text 2:
?If we had never met, where would you be right now??
Issä looked up. Faye looked really odd, he was clearly thinking about something.
?I don?t know?, he said quietly. ?On some backwater farm, I guess. Or a mage tower.?
Faye frowned.
?Not so loud, we?re in public.?
Issä looked around. They were out on the porch of an inn. They had a stunning view of the river below and the mountain in the background, and not a single person in view.
?Let them hear?, he said. ?There are other secrets in my heart I promise to be more careful with.?
Faye straightened and walked over to Issä. As he passed him, he caressed his cheek. Issä closed his eyes for a moment, looking weary. Faye sat down.
?I would hate to lose you to a Tower, as well as the Gallows?, he said. ?So please be careful with what you?re saying.?
Issä smiled and looked down into his book.
?Says the man who just showed tenderness to his lover in a country where such love sends you to your death.?
?But you do miss me, don?t you??
?Very much.?
Faye nudged Issä?s leg with his foot. He tried to make his lover look up again, but as all Issä did was blush, he said instead:
?What are you reading, anyway??
?The Book of Revelations?, Issä jested.
Faye laughed.
?Really?, he asked.
?No. It?s a journal of our travels. I?m looking back.?
?Why??
?To see ahead, of course.?
Faye shook his head.
?You make no sense?, he sighed. ?I?m so sick of this.?
Issä finally looked up.
?Of me?, he asked trembling.
Faye really wanted to lean forward and kiss Issä, but didn?t dare.
?No, silly?, he said tenderly. ?Of this place, these laws, these people. I want to go somewhere where people don?t care if I love you, or you cast a spell or two every now and then.?
He looked out over the vista, the mountains in the distance.
?Maybe?, he said slowly. ?We can find some respite over there??
?Maybe?, said Issä. ?Or maybe all we find if we go that way is snow and ice and early death.?
?You always sound so fatalistic?, said Faye with a laugh. ?Couldn?t you relax a little? But then, I know why you can?t relax. We really need to get back on the road.?
Text 3:
?This is home?, he thought.
He was surprised at the feeling and the thought. He had never in his long life been here, only heard of the place. But at the same time it was true. This was where his father had landed with his ship more than a thousand years ago, on the east side of the sea. He rose. Feeling stiff, he stretched. He couldn?t resist the magic of this place. He felt how he grew to his full height, his clothing changed from the tight fitting outfit he preferred when working, to a long sweeping elven robe, his dark blonde hair that reached his shoulders sprang out sun gold and long, all the way down to his waist. The silver coronet he had never even worn in this place was on his brow.
The others had woken and watched the transformation. All of them had seen Uron like this at one point. That is, they had seen him tall and formidable with golden hair to the waist and blue eyes blazing.
Uron stood for a moment, getting used to this taller, more slender body. After a while his face turned into an annoyed grimace. He turned his head up towards the sky.
?Hey?, he called out. ?How am I supposed to do hard labor dressed like this? Walking in the wilderness is hard, you know.?
To the others astonishment, Urons clothing immediately changed into something more like what he had already been wearing. Only instead of whites and grays, they were now green and brown, earth toned, and his boots were not boots but soft leather shoes. Still on his brow, though, was the coronet. He took it off and held it out.
?You forgot this?, he said.
The coronet melted away. Uron looked around. He didn?t acknowledge the others still on the ground, he was too preoccupied. There, at the end of this pier, leaning on an old sign post, was a longbow and a quiver. He went there and picked them up. The bow felt very familiar in his hands. He pulled the string back all the way to his ear and let go. It sang in a satisfying way. In the quiver was a set of arrows and fastened to it was also four knives. Two of the knives were long daggers, one was a hunting knife and one was a small knife suitable for cutting small things. Or hiding somewhere in a pinch. He pulled one of the daggers. It shimmered silver and felt heavy and substantial in his hand. As he sheathed it again, he suddenly remembered something. He hadn?t seen his currently used sword. He knew it wasn?t here. He sighed quietly.
.