Wednesday, 15 February 2012


Huh? How did I end up here? Well... If someone gave you a glass of banana-berry juice, would you drink it?

Saturday, 11 February 2012

New Blog

That is where all the chapters will go


I Have a Title

So far, I've been calling me story Nixion Strange, but I actually have a title now

Nix and Mist.

We are planning to write a story together! We'll have to change it... a lot. So what you read here is really just a draft.

But an awesome draft!

Mist's one is a sequel, so you should read this one first, but it makes sence even if you read his.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2
Kali drove them in her van. She had a Mercedes as well, but since no one else had a licence, she had to drive everyone in situations like this.
Technically, Mahogany was old enough to get a licence, but she kept failing the driver’s test. Something about drag racing all the time. It was a long drive. But once they got there, Nixion didn’t feel any better. This was the Australian Sanctuary. The place where he had almost died. And, even worse than that, it was close to where he used to live. It was close to where he was kidnapped.

Nixion was ten years old then. That was before he was known as Nixion, and before all of his problems had begun. He had been walking home from school. A black car had pulled up and two people had got out. One was thin, and hunched over. He was wearing a hat that was at an angle, so you couldn’t see his face above his mouth. The second was a middle aged man who was looking at him triumphantly.
“Are you sure he can take it?” the first man asked.
“I’m sure. Now, I want to be paid.” The second man was glaring at the first, and ten year old Nixion was seriously getting scarred.
“La-la-leave me alo-alone,” he couldn’t stop trembling. He wanted to run, but couldn’t.
The first man passed an envelope to the second and walked towards the boy. He opened his mouth to scream, but the man suddenly rushed forward and clamped a cloth over his mouth. Nixion breathed in what he now knew to be chloroform, and passed out.

“Nixion. Come on Nixion.” Someone was gripping his arm, and Nixion suddenly realised that they were at the entrance to the Santuary.  He scowled. Mist began the complicated process of opening the door, while Nixion continued scowling at the door.
“Do we have to come here?” he asked.
Mist spared him a glance. “We need the Sanctuary’s resources. And it’s regulation.
Nixion snorted. “Regulation,” he said. “Who cares? We can do this on our own.
 “Look, okay? I know you don’t like the Santuary much-.”
“Much? MUCH? Last time I was here, they tried to kill me! You’re damn well right I don’t like the Sanctuary much!”
 “Thomas stepped forward “Shut up, both of you. The door’s open, and we’re going inside.”
He glared at Nixion as if daring him to disagree.
He glared right back.
They probably would have started at each other for a couple of more hours, but Kali got impatient.
“Come on,” she said, already walking.
Thomas took an extra five seconds to stare at Nixion, and then he followed her. Mahogany went to.
Nixion realised that only he and Mist was left.  They looked at each other.
Nixion took off after the others. Trying to kill him was one thing, staying behind with Mist was a whole other kind of torture.

They looked like an odd group, walking through the Sanctuary. A twenty- two year old, changing her hands in knifes and back. Mahogany was using the air to give herself a few seconds lift every five steps.  Thomas had found a piece of metal somewhere, and was folding it like origami. Mist was humming a tune, and Nixion was humming a different tune. They were both trying to hum the loudest, so to everyone else, it sounded like a bad mix.
Eventually, when they got to the Council room, the three elders were waiting for them. They were looking down at them from their thrones, looking like they thought everyone else was scum.
Or maybe Nixion was just holding a grudge.
Mist stepped forward.
“Grande Mage, “he said, drawing the Grand Mage’s attention away from some papers, and towards them. He scanned them all, and only then seemed to notice that Nixion was here.
You,” he spluttered. ‘I remember you.”
Nixion couldn’t resist himself. He raised his hand, and the Grand Mage, and the other two Elders, flinched.
“Hi,” he said brightly, waving his hand.
The Grande Mage lowered his arms from across his face. One of his colleges had attempted to defend himself with a fork, while the other had jumped to the floor and curled up into a ball.
“What is he doing here, “the Grande Mage demanded, trying to keep his voice from trembling.
Nixion guessed they still remembered the time he had tried to kill them.
Mist glanced at him and scowled, and then turned back to the elders. “He was forgiven of all charges. He has every right to be here.”
The Council of Elders looked fearfully at Nixion, but Nixion was to busy glaring at some Cleavers to notice. He still remembered the feeling of the scythe on his neck. He had been half unconscious at the time, but he still remembered
Mist coughed to get their attention, and began to speak.
“As you know, there is a serious problem. A group of sorcerers called Super Happy Fun Time Turtle-“
“Huh?” one of the Elders exclaimed.
“No, I’m serious now; it’s called Live Evil More Often Now. Or Lemon or short-”
“For god’s sake Zathract Mist-”
“The Remaining,” he said. “They’re called the Remaining.”
Right,” the Grand Mage said, his face turning a little less red. “And what do we know about them?”
“Almost nothing,” Mist admitted. “I’ve been investigating odd cases now and then, and I began to notice a pattern. Jail breaks, murders, theft, kidnappings.”
Nixion stomach lurched at the last word, but he didn’t say anything.
“They were done to people involved in the war. The kidnappings and murders were done to old war time leaders, the thefts were done on old war weapons, and the jail breaks were done on old war buddies from the other side.”
One of the Elders leant forward. “And for how long have these… Crimes, been going on.
Mist took a breath. “Over the last eighty years.”
Everyone looked at Mist. Nixion new why they were so worried. Over eighty years, the Remaining would have had plenty of time to get allies, kill enemies’, and have a huge, deadly plan, ready-made to go any time.
“Why weren’t we alerted sooner?!” the Grand Mage asked, his eyes wide.
“Because I only noticed them when I started investigating the break-out of Charles Hamond.” Mist replied, his eyes narrowed
Charles Hamond necromancer on the other side, who was charged with defeating the Australian Sanctuary in the war. He held his power in a sword. He had been feared, and still was, all over Australia. 
The Grand Mage took a deep breath. “Alright. We over all of the Sanctuary’s services during this crisis. Fix it, quickly.”
He said it like it was there fault, and they were expected to clean it up.

Outside, they all gathered together.
“Alright, if we have to solve this, then we’ll need help.” Mist had taken the tone of authority, and Nixion didn’t like it
“I know a few people,” Kali said. “They might help.”
“Alright, Kali, Thomas and Mahogany will go as a group,” Mist said. “And Nix and I will go get some friends of our own.
Nixion looked at him. “What?!”
“I’m not happy with it either, but we’re still going.”
“I don’t want to go with you.
“You have no choice.”
“I hate you right now.”
“I feel the same way.”

Friday, 10 February 2012

Nix and Mist

I'm writing a story. I have borowed characters from BloggerZathract Mist, Johanna Remmus, Eve the Rock and Gabriel Colbalt

Chapter 1
Nixion Strange punched the bag with ferocity only someone like him could muster. Someone with so much pent up anger, so much rage, that they would take it out on anyone who got in their way. That was a good description of Nixion.
He went for two low punches and a high one after. He didn’t want anyone predicting his moves in a fight, so he practised using different techniques. Then he hit the punching bag once. Twice. He forgot about being unpredictable, and just punched it again, and again and again. Every punch just made him angrier. Every punch brought back another painful memory. Punch. His kidnapping. Punch. The torture. Punch. The brainwashing. Punch. The murder.
Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Nixion roared and jumped at the punching bag. The rope connecting it to the ceiling snapped. He and the bag went rolling across the ground of his dojo. The bag never stood a chance. Nixion stoped rolling, and realised he was on top of the bag. He delivered devastating blows. In a matter of minutes, the bag was ruined.
Nixion got up, and panted. A few seconds later, he noticed he wasn’t alone in the room. Standing in the corner of the room, were his… friends.
There was Zathract Mist. Nixion just called him Mist, and he pissed him off to unbelievable amounts. He had once saved Nixion’s life, and he would never let him forget it. His black hair fell over his ears and back of his head. He had emerald eyes that would seem to look into your very soul. It was very… weird. He was a necromancer, an elementalist, and a person who viewed anyone as a ‘bad guy’ to be despised. Since Nixion used to be a ‘bad guy’, it was safe to say that that he and Mist argued. A lot.
Next was Kali Nole. She was the oldest here, a full sixty-two years old. Though, if you looked at her, she would only seem twenty-two. She had the odd adept ability to turn her hands into small weapons. Nixion had seen them become knifes, guns, and even a small bomb, which she threw at a group of sorcerers. Though they seemed to have a limit to the number of bullets, and bombs she could make. Knifes were by far the easiest to make, and her favourite. She had shoulder length gold hair, brown eyes, and had a good sense of humour. 
After her was Thomas Phillips. He had the ability to bend metal with ease, as if it was tinfoil. His ability ranged from different types of metal. But he could bend, or brake, most metals. He was slightly younger, and shorter, than Nixion. Blue eyes and blonde hair, and wore what normal thirteen year olds would. He was a good fighter. One of the best. Still, Nixion was confident he could beat him. It would only take a single touch.
 He shook these thoughts from his head and looked at the last person. At the end was Mahogany Reen. She was an old girl, to say the least. She loved to use magic in everyday life, but hated to use it in a fight, unless faced with no other option. She seemed intrigued by people’s personalities, and was, by far, the kindest of everyone here.
“Why are you guys here?” he asked, looking at each of them. Mist grinned, Kali pretended to pout, Thomas rolled his eyes and Mahogany frowned at him.
“Trouble,” said Mist, still grinning. “And you’re not gonna like it.”

Wednesday, 1 February 2012


This may surprise everyone, but my advanced intelligence does not mean I don't go to school. Tomorrow, I go for another year, learning things I don't think I need to know. You may be thinking  'at least you get to see some of your friends again'. That's wrong. Some of my friends are still on holidays, while others recently moved school. The only bearable thing is the library. But get this... They don't have Skulduggery Pleasant!
The horror!