Saturday, 15 September 2012

Robin Part 1

“I don’t know where it is.” The man with dark black eyes insisted pleadingly. Red tears distorted his face making him look even uglier. Leather straps secured him to the clean metal chair and he struggles against them weakly.  The girl standing opposite, Robin, raised a perfect red eyebrow. “I think you’re lying to me Sabre.” She pouted, leaning towards him. Sabre recoiled into the chair, his snivelling echoing off the cold stone walls. “Do you know,” she paused and a slow smile spread across her face. “what I do liars, Sabre?” she purred, reaching for her belt. She drew a knife and ran her finger over the tip with a grin.

“Okay, okay!” the man wailed. “I dropped it, under the bridge, south side.” His head drooped and he shuffled back in his chair defeated.
“See? Was that so hard?” she said softly and caressed his skin gently. Sabre’s eyes widened the whites in a severe contrast with his skin. Robin spun around and nodded to a guard. He moved forward drawing his sword. Sabre’s high pitched scream echoed like a siren in the quiet of the night. Then the world was silent.

Robin Snowscar at just fourteen was a force to be reckoned with. Her long, bright red hair and icy blue eyes were a signal of trouble throughout the Other World. She pushed open the cell door and quickly climbed the steps of the dungeon to the open plains of the castle grounds.  The path to the bridge tapped as she walked along it. Wind blowing her hair to the side of her face in an array of spikes, Robin walked with her chin raised and a smile tugging at her lips.

The castle was situated on an island, a very large island. It had four bridges, placed at each point of the compass, connected to the mainland.  The keep itself was just off centre and had stone walls surrounding it. Most of the island was grassland and forest left wild and untamed.

Sliding gracefully down the hill next to the bridge, she wondered about the content of the box. She doubted Sabre had known about the content of the box.  Ducking under the bridge she scanned the water and the bank before sloshing her hand around in the water.  Almost immediately she felt the wet velvet, pulling it out of the water she frowned. The velvet was tied together with a piece of silver rope and there was most definitely glass inside. Unable to contain her curiosity she opened the bag.  A small, dusty glass case was inside and a piece of paper wrapped securely in the middle.  Turning it over in her hands, she studied it in wonderment.

Thursday, 13 September 2012


I know that not a lot of people read my stories but I think I'll post the beginning of Robin's Story. Something that might help you understand her more. Meh. Maybe not. But I'll post the beginning anyway.

Sunday, 9 September 2012


He bumped my fist and it was awesome *giggles*

I got up at 7am on a Sunday, an impressive feat in itself, and went to see him. After having gotten completely and utterly lost we found the way in and sat outside Waterstones for approximately four hours. Nothing has ever been more worth the wait!

He signed all my books! ALL OF THEM! EEEP! Happiness. AND he took my post-it note with Adra's question on it! So yeah, I remembered Adra! He said he has your book and will be sending it back shortly!

Yes, that's what he did in my copy of KOTW! Cool little thing. I got one for my friend for her birthday too because she couldn't make it :D And yes my real name is Rachel. Mergh. I didn't want it signed to Robin.

Sunday, 2 September 2012

When I get bored... I write.

Divergent Fan-fiction

The factionless lady walks up to me expectantly, her dirty, silver hair knots down to her shoulders. Her pale, wrinkled, blue eyes are distant; she’s looking towards me but not at me. Smiling, I hand over the bread that I made her. Clumsily, she grabs it out of my hand and I see the black tattoo of Dauntless under her wrist. “Thank you.” She says through a mouthful of food. I press my hands into the pockets of my long, grey dress. “You’re welcome.” I say. I want to ask her about Dauntless, about what it’s like to be free and reckless - but I am not Dauntless, I am Abnegation.
The choosing ceremony was a year ago, it is a day I will never forget. My hands shaking as I walked nervously up the steps, eyes on me as I stood between the glinting coals and the smooth grey pebbles. The tangible relief when my blood fell onto the cool stone and my parents small smiles. My father’s chin tilted up in the only way he could show pride. Lastly, my mother’s affectionate squeeze on the shoulder as I stand back in line with them. It feels like yesterday.
“Curious? Well, Dauntless isn’t exactly for the faint hearted.” She says settling on a bench near the wall. Without warning, she shoves her wrist in my face and I jerk back. Cackling, she speaks “See, expect the unexpected as my old man used to say. I must be off now.” She stands quicker than she looks like her age should allow and toddles away.
 I wonder briefly what my life would have been like in Dauntless. I recoil from the thought almost immediately. Violent. That is the word my mother used to describe them. Selfish. My father had said. They are right, but I can’t help but wonder. Lost in thought, I wander away from the factionless compound. I think their way of life is beautiful. Living free, like birds. If only I could just spread my wings and fly away. I reprimand myself, selfish thinkers cause conflict.
Darkness creeps upon me like mist, slow and subtle. Until it was right in front of me I hadn’t even recognised the fence. The fence is the perimeter no one goes out and no one comes in. I stare through the wires. I am curious, but not curious enough. Ignoring my instincts, I shuffle closer it. There is no movement that I can see, only blackness and stillness. Silence, it is peaceful and eerie ant the same time. Feeling the breeze on my auburn hair, I lift my face and close my amber eyes to enjoy the sensation. This is as close to freedom as it gets.
“Well, what do we have here?” a deep voice asks. I start at the sound of the voice and open my eyes. “A Stiff out for a late night stroll.” His booming laughter fills the night. He isn’t much taller than me, his dark hair juts up from his forehead contrasting with his pale skin. Twisting around his arm is a flame and two studs sit in his left eyebrow. Dauntless.