read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

April 22, 2008
...And so it was, from that point onward, that she, Daughter of the Son of Adam, became the Protector of the Protected.

She, a swarthy lass plucked from the obscurity of her quiet proletariat life, was now burdened with the unfortunate miasma of anointed Keeper, Knower, Master and Protege.

Surrounded, in her first battle, high in the turret, she stood, with broadswords drawn at her neck, and she, armed with only a bullet betwixt her fingers and a cyanide caplet hidden in her false tooth.

The Protected, the mere lady-child, sat, oblivious--nay, nearly catatonic--to the events around her. The Fortunate Fool.