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Sins of the Son 3
“Respect is one of life's greatest treasures. I mean, what does it all add up to if you don't have that?”--Marilyn Monroe
"And so I said 'That's no Luxan, that's my date'." Furlow laughed. Scorpius sat across from her, stone faced and patiently waiting in the dingy light of the diner.  The only other beings in the building were the cook, the waitress, and a loud group of four young men--two Sebacians, one Bannock, and one Nebari--sitting at the booth behind Furlow.  Just as the mechanic finished laughing at her own joke, their waitress glided out of the kitchen with their food.
"We've got a wrap," The waitress said as she placed a neat plate in front of Scorpius, and then set a grandiose plate filled with bread, meat, vegetables, smothered in sauce in front of Furlow, "And the chef's special, 'Space Tacos'."
As the waitress headed back to the kitchen Scorpius asked the mechanic, "Is it normal for Kosti to let his machinery fall into decay?"
"Well, ham
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Sins of the Son 2
"I dwelt alone in a world of moan, and my soul was a stagnant tide."- Edgar Allan Poe
"So, the Great Furlow can't fix a simple cooling unit?"  Kosti asked, leading them into his office. Standing at the edge of a long ivory desk was a large Scarran male.  Like many other Scarran soldiers he was dressed in black leather, and he had small eyes encased in a large brow over a narrow nose and large mouth.  
"Who's the muscle?"  Furlow asked, ignoring the sarcasm.
"This idiot?  That's Wolesh, I keep him around to scare everybody else."  Kosti nodded towards Scorpius, "As you can tell, Scarrans make great intimidators."
"Damn straight," Furlow said, taking advantage of a plush chair to sit down, while Scorpius remained standing at attention behind her.
"You'd find a better seat here, my dear," The Traskan said, sitting and pointing at his lap.  
"I used up the rest of my de-greaser trying to fix your air conditioner," Furlow smiled.  
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Mature content
Sins of the Son :iconrambling-anthology:Rambling-anthology 1 7
Whence we came, returning space dust.
:iconrambling-anthology:Rambling-anthology 3 2
Death Makes a House-call
“The idea is to die young as late as possible.”-Ashley Montagu
I stand on the porch, waiting.  I’m surrounded by orange LED lights and cheesy decorations, which makes my presence out of place. Covered in my usual black garb, face covered completely, scythe and cauldron in my hands.  Halloween is always my favorite time of year, the most exciting; all the energy in the air, all the costumed folks who are completely oblivious to my presence.  
Here are some now, a group of three small children, the oldest a superhero, and then a little ghost, and finally a tiny angel.  The angel knows something is up, it’s always the youngest who recognize me first.  She freezes.  
Stay still, the others were encourage her on.  The cauldron is heavy in my hand, and I have to take special care not to lean.  Stay still, children are the best, don’t ruin it.
The superhero and the ghost notice that their guardian has stopped in the middle
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A/N: Farscape fanfiction, because I haven't done fanfiction in a long time.
Trapeazing through memories was exhausting.  Grating school work with painfully slow classmates made him grateful he wasn't actually there.  The first job was an annoyance with a dull boss.  Shopping with mom was fun-that's where he found his favorite Hawaiian shirt.  There was a faint feeling (others would have called it a wish) that there were more of these memories.
But through all the distractions, he was persistent in trying to find the perfect memory to hide in case he was called again.  He was disappointed in the intimate proportions, they were unimaginative and hot.  He'd sifted through the higher education memories, although it was extensive it was common knowledge.  No knowledge left from the Elders-they hid it too well- and only blurry recollections of the first travel through the wormhole.  There were several m
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Jim liked working summer evenings. He was grateful for the pastor allowing to dig the graves the night before, so the heat wouldn't get to him. While other men sat out in the dwindling evening heat, their wives washing dishes, Jim was content with shuffling past headstones, some of the safety bells tinkling in the wind. Everyone told him that keeping himself busy after his brothers recent passing would keep Jim sane.
As he walked through the rows, preparing to ready the soil for the towns latest consumption victim, a lanky canine figure jogged up beside him. The local coyote--allowed on the property to keep smaller vermin away--had come to keep him company. Jim bent down to pat him on the head.
"Beezer, sometimes I think you only hang around me because I feed you." He chuckled.
The animal stayed by him as he stopped at the designated site. Jim started the work straight away, steadily moving the earth beneath him, Beezer lying close by watching. When he was about halfway through his wor
:iconrambling-anthology:Rambling-anthology 5 4
Whiskey Wit
A/N: Swat Kats fanfiction.  Someone pointed out that I made Feral an articulate drunk.  I just figure he is a very talented kat.  Deal with it!
It's not the flying that scares me, it's the people.  Too many variables.  At least the flight attendants are no longer arguing with my alcohol consumption.  No, with the trash filling with tiny, empty bottles of rum, take this plane down.  Now, sprawled out on the isle seat, all I have to worry about is her.
Ann Gora, it's strange seeing her without a microphone in her hand.  She keeps looking over at me and smirking.  She said she's going to pick up some award.  Maybe she thinks she's better than me, the last award I won was the fifth grade spelling bee.  She does have a cute smile, if I showed up with her on my arm it may make this family reunion interesting.  I shake my head, that's just the rum talking.  
The flight attendant brings another two bottles, along with an unop
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Due Diligence
A/N: Swat Kats fanfiction. I feel bad that Feral doesn't get enough attention. He's kind of a hardass, yes, but he's doing what he thinks is right.
Midnight, the quiet hour. Even the janitor has gone home. Paperwork isn't my strong suit, but it is a necessity. It keeps me and every other Enforcer in line. I just wish it didn't keep me here so damn late. Curse these accident reports...I don't even know how Johnson managed to shoot himself in the foot. 
My kingdom for a steak and a beautiful woman. 
I lay down the last bit of work and grab my jacket, ready for the front door. The light in my office is the last to go off. Even in the darkened hallway, I know which way to go. I make my way right, the faint glow of the vending machine in the next hall guiding me.
Before I turn the corner I hear the vending machine crash to the floor, along with several high pitched screeches cheer in unison. I put my back to the wall, knowing where there's Creeplings, Dark Kat isn't far
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Mature content
Ice King Blues :iconrambling-anthology:Rambling-anthology 5 6
Somber Shadow
A/N: Those who know my fanfiction writing know how much I love background characters-they're so much more fun to work with. My victim in this story is the great Commander Ulysses Feral, from the 90's cartoon Swat Kats. And if you're expecting a mush romance with Callie forget it! To be on the safe side, I'll rate this PG-13 for minor cussing and depressing themes. And I hope writing in the first person isn't too distracting-you guys are gonna have to tell me how you like it, I don't do it very often. Enjoy.
"Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect." ― Margaret Mitchell
I stare at the glass of scotch in front of me. '93, a good year. Almost a shame this is the last taste I'll have. I ponder briefly if the drink is worth putting away the pistol in my lap.
I'm not depressed, I've just been a pallbearer more times than I'd care to admit. My head aches with the thought of fallen comrades and I close my eyes, but the darkness brings back the carnage lead by Da
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But I'm a Puppy Person
Fate brought me here.  The pain in my shoulder wont stop.  I wish I had something to eat so I could heal properly.  At the moment healing is not at the forefront of my mind.
I limp down the alley in dog form, it hurts less and I find it draws more attention from humans.  Yesterday a little girl shared her ice cream with me before her mother dragged her away-I bet she got dinner when she got home.  I bet if I could get someone to take me into one of their homes, I could hide better from my master.  
I barely know where I am, I just kept running until I couldn't anymore.  I think I'm safe, but it's so difficult to tell who's who in this part of town.  
I think I'm being followed.
Normal humans have pets, right?  It shouldn't be this difficult to have someone take me home.  I wonder as I wander: what are my options?  
A shelter?  Human shelters are for transients, and if they saw my scars they'd be too frightened.  An animal shelter would put me in a cage.  I don't like the thought of bei
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But for my soul,
               I'd love.
:iconrambling-anthology:Rambling-anthology 13 5
Mature content
Wanted for Life :iconrambling-anthology:Rambling-anthology 2 10
Against the Wind
A/N: This is a fan-fiction about Beorn from The Hobbit
The moon rose over the lonely crop of rock.  The Eagles used it by day as a common landing post, sharing hunting tips and important news of other creatures.  That day they had gone to nest after a long day of hunting, leaving the great black Bear to sit alone.  At night, it was his territory.  Not even the Eagles dared to rouse him from his pondering, and they willingly shared the space with him.  He sat, the moon the only witness to his lamenting.  
He didn't like to linger on memories lost, and the Bear didn't remain on the Carrock for long.  Before the moon was in the middle of the sky he had climbed down to start foraging.
While the Bear was in the middle of an elderberry bush, enjoying a late dessert, his ears picked up.  As he moved to investigate the whimpering, he noticed the scent of Wargs and cursed himself for not noticing it sooner.  It could be a trap.  He honed
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My Friend Bacon
"The Pig, if I am not mistaken,
Gives us ham and pork and bacon.  
Let others think his heart is big,
I think it stupid of the pig."
-Ogden Nash
This happened a long time ago, when the earth was green and the gods weren't as wary of humans.
One small sprite in particular, named Merel, especially liked humans.  She used to come to earth in the form of a blackbird, to spend time with us.
One day, as she was enjoying her morning flight, she came upon a dilapidated farm.  The poor farmer was sitting on a tree stump, his shovel thrown aside on the grass, his head in his hands.
"Dear Farmer," Merel crowed out, "Why are you crying?"
"Hoards of mice are eating my crops," The farmer lamented, "My children have nothing to eat!"
"Do not lament," Merel said, flying off, "I will help you."
She flew, thinking, until she spied a cat that was familiar to her.  Merel soared down, landed, and bowed her head, "Good morning, Cat."
"It is not a good morning," The cat replied, his head low, "I
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Rambling-anthology's Profile Picture
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
I'm addicted to the internet and a homebody.

I'm a writer, and for now you can find my ebook here: and my fan fiction here:

I do commissions for writing projects (yes students, that means you)...If you want me to write something note me and read… for commission information.

Follow me on Instagram…, I obviously can't post any literature on there but I enjoy sharing pictures, and I will follow you back.

Current Residence: Denver, CO
Favourite genre of music: Rock, but I'll take just about anything

Personal Quote: If my ass was so smart why didn't it help me on my history final?



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atlantiss505 Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2017
thanks for the watch :D
angry-aries Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2017  Student General Artist
thanks for the watch!
Rambling-anthology Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2017  Professional Writer
Not a problem, your work is great.
Hidden by Owner
Rambling-anthology Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2016  Professional Writer
Looks like you've been having fun :D sorry, I've been offline for a while.
FreyaFooFoo Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2016  Professional Traditional Artist
I have been having a lot of fun. And that's okay! You're here now, and that's what matters!
Rambling-anthology Featured By Owner Edited Dec 12, 2016  Professional Writer
:D  I didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, although I'm too damn old to be passing on these chain letters.  I'm only 28 and I already have an "back in my day" story for you.  Did you know that chain letters like this used to be passed on in traditional mail too?  I got them a lot from classmates when I was in elementary school.  How they talked their parents into giving them a stamp for it I'll never know ("send this to 15 ppl" gee mom can I get 15-i-had-to-wait-in-line-at-the-post-office-stamps?)
(1 Reply)
Kooshmeister Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for watching me. :)
Rambling-anthology Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2016  Professional Writer
Of course :D  

love the name, by the way.
Kooshmeister Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Oh, thank you. :)
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