A weird little story I'm cooking up here. Probably a sci-fi one, like the War of the Worlds kinda. Hope you like it!
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Name: Matsumoto "Matt" Sakuraba
Age: 17
Height: 5"6
Weight: 145
Hair color: Light brown
Eye color: Blue
Body build: Lean yet somewhat muscular
Complexion: White
Likes: Playing music, hanging out with his band, eating American foods, and reading non-fictional books.
Clothes Sytle: Usually blue or black pants, nice sneakers, a school uniform, or a tee-shirt or jacket.
Dislikes: Killing, evil, spirits, his math teacher, and milk.
Personality: Matt has split personalities, meaning he has different sides to him mentally. He's usually calm and observative, but his other sides aren't the same way. This doesn't bother him, however; quite the opposite, actually. It really helps him when he's in trouble, because the persuer won't know what to think. Other than that, he is usually calm, creative, and sees things differently than normal people.
Summary: Matt is the lead singer in a band called His Last Minutes, a title thought up by one of his split personalities. He also plays the guitar and the piano. His parents are filfthy rich, which allows him to live in the nice part of the neihgborhood, attend private schools with higher education, and have higher connections. Nevertheless, he has good friends who don't care about the money; they're all in his band, and together he wants to earn his own fame. But there are a few issues at hand... one, his parents don't approve of it. Second, a mysterious girl with fire-colored hair and crimson eyes shows up and eventually fall in love with each other, and finally, there's a ravaging cult of demons after him for an unknown reason.
This is a project my English teach in school is making us do. It's like slam poetry, only written. If you dont' know what slam poetry is, it's not like Shakespear or anything. It's poetry with a bite, so to speak. Well, I hope you enjoy this! Here we go! 
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Warm and cold, dark and light
Drawing the breath of life
Under a bright, shining light
Stroke of perception, it’s your own interpretation
Go on, take a bite of sweet imagination
Taste the difference, sublime soul and resonance
Reputation, familiar, crowd-pleasing, far or near
Killing time, crinkling up the unwanted lines
Recognition, a salvation of sanity; could it really be
A personal, fascinating grasp of illuminating reality?
Evoking, unreachable worlds, inspiring a hemisphere
Complex, captivate thy spirit and revealing my merit
Quiet, unique, the odd one, instrumental,
Resourceful, well-known, a pose, another world complete
Noisy thoughts, scattering in my head
Musical, lyrical, could it really be a miracle?
This talent from above, otherwise incomparable
Technicolor, solid, lively, captivate a restless memory
Dynamic balance, universal connection, finally, a new-found harmony
Loud, blooming, an image is worth a thousand words
Fraction, pencil scratching, ink splatters, blackening, landing on paper
Familiar, alluring, reaching out to another world
Frustration; no more ideas, maybe I’ll finish it later.
The End.
Hello! Well I've started on a new story. Hope it's good so far!
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“You’re Highness! Where are you?!” A frantic voice shouted.
A tall man wearing a black and maroon suit leaned against an archway in the garden. His dark gray eyes rested on Madoka, the woman calling for the young prince- the young and stupid prince- that they were looking for, again. He sighed.
“We’re never going to find him like this, Madoka.” The man said softly.
Madoka turned to him angrily, her nostrils flaring. Her light brown hair shined in the sun, a glow of ferocity in her hazel eyes, though there was still a hint of compassion within them.
“Then how do you suppose we’ll find him, then?!” She demanded.
Since day 1, the young prince has gone and lost himself among the beach not far from the castle. He had his own spot that he always went to and hid from the pressures of royalty. The man knew this because only he has found him there, every time the prince was reassuringly ‘lost’.
Madoka closed her eyes and put her clutched-hands onto her hips, her head bowed in frustration.
“Where is he, Kaede? I know you know where he is.” She pried.
The man, Kaede, shrugged. “I shall be back, with him.” He said as he turned around and walked off without telling her.
“Oh!” Madoka exasperated, stomping her foot.
~~~
A soft breeze was gently blowing the giant leaves of the palm trees on the beach, casting small shadows on the sandy ground. The sound of waves crashing into each other could be heard clearly, pulling in and out of the deep blue ocean.
Then there was a sigh from the lips of a young man, a man of royal blood. He drew in his slender, pale hand in and rested his chin on it. His deep blue eyes stared aimlessly at the water, watching its end meet with the horizon of the sky.
All was peaceful here, which was why he chose this as his secret spot. It was quiet, too, until the sound of shuffling footsteps disturbing the untouched sand snapped his attention back to reality.
“Excuse me, Your Highness…” Kaede said kindly.
The prince gave a small gasp of surprise, but then smiled a charming smile.
“Kaede-san! You’ve found me!” He exclaimed, teasingly.
Kaede gave a small chuckle.
“Yes, once again, I’ve found you.” He remarked.
[To Be Continued]
Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Third Shrine
Once everybody was awake and ate breakfast, they decided to search for the next Shrine.
“So, where exactly is this Shrine? What’s it like to ‘catch’ a Sp...
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