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Is there a way to talk with you in private? PMs are blocked..
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PM's aren't blocked anymore, I think, but at the moment I have too much to do, I'll draw the fuzzle after christmas, or I'll go mad Dx
OK this isn't a drawing, it's something I was writing
I'll never stop writing stories
and still I said that I wont write anymore x(
so here is:
The reason why I don’t write anymore, (enjoy
):
Uhm.. yeah there are swearwords and stuff in this story… and it's a bit illogical
_
this is just a first draft (sorry for my english and the grammar mistakes and stuff like that)_
Prologue: The last murder
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A buzzing sound neared. Metal feet slipped uneasily on the wet floor and came abruptly to a halt.
The icy rain was dripping from the Sligs mask as he hammered frantically against the window, bespattering everything with blood that was running down his arms.
“What do you want, Shmuck?!” The other Slig yelled irritated and opened the rusty window, which creaked as if it could fall apart every next moment.
Splints breath filled the air like a little white cloud as he finally explained: “Hurry call the Vykker! Someone got shot, if you don’t hurry and call him he’s gonna die!”
“Hehehehe! Beats me.” –the other one replied mockingly “…Hell how many times we’ve told you to not use guns cuz ya can’t handle them Splint! Now go and call the Vykker yourself, I don’t care if you have shot someone hehehehe. But you have to go somewhere else, you can’t use our phone now…”
Splint needed a few seconds to reply to this: “Liar, the phone is right behind you! And it wasn’t me you bloody bastard! –I don’t shot my best friend! Give me the damn phone!”
Desperately he tried to climb in but the Slig threw him out again and slammed shut the old window.
Splint landed hard on the cold floor but jumped up again in rage, clenching his fists.
“You can find him at the other end of the SSM (southern sawmills) I suppose you know where that is dimwit?!”
Splint thought of walking in and smashing the other ones head through the window and taking the phone while he was unconscious, but instead he stood up and ran down the road.
…
The only sound that could be heard was the buzzing of Splints pants and the pattering of the rain while he ran back as fast as his mechanical legs could carry him.
Soon he reached the place where he has left his friend.
Scar was lying on his back. Blood was coloring the water around him in a deep red. His whole body was overflowed with blood.
Splint staggered nearer in shock and sank down on his knees, pressing his hands firmly on the wound in Scars chest.
“Scar…?” Panic rose in him while he tried to think about how he could help him. “Scar… hold on… help will soon..” but he lost his voice before he had finished the sentence.
He had an idea but it was very risky and the more he thought of it the more he realized that it was his only chance to safe Scars life. He had to carry him the whole way. Slowly he stood up, wiping the rain from his visors to see a little better (his tears blurred his vision anyway) then he lifted his friends limp body up and started to run.
~…later in the night, the stars are glittering high above the lab. Splint is at the outside…~
Splint was still sitting on the ground, a cigarette in his shaky hands, sunken in thought, when Slate put his hand on Splints shoulder and slumped down the wall next to him. “I’m sorry…If we just…”
Suddenly somebody was yelling and they heard the sound of wood breaking into pieces, then Jet marched out and threw something away in the darkness, it was a silvery lighter.
Splint couldn't see where it landed.
“I wanted to return him the damn thing, I don’t need it anyways!” Jet cried hoarsely kicking and boxing the wall.
“Shut it!” A BB Slig with a little red Slig on his shoulder appeared behind him.
The BB Slig moved his hands quickly and Dozer, the little red Slig on his shoulder, translated his sign language: “Mimicry, wants you to shut up, he says he can’t bear your permanent outbursts, and me by the way too, it sucks to always be with you, all the time you-“
Slate suddenly stood up. “You bastard”
They fell silent and stared at him. “Ramón…you bloody bastard, I know it was you!“
...
every time when I read it again i correct so much that i totally mess it up.
I wan't
constructive criticism 
thanx for reading
...and for the sake of good stories please tell me if it was boring!
I won't continue this thats why I havent made an own thread for it...
...or is it for free?
Oh my God!! =O
I'm glad you like the arms ^^
...altough it's true I can even prove it with the picture I upload now 
