Megatronus: A Short Story

He then became hysterical. “Which one of you did this!” I don’t think anyone really did anything but enjoy themselves. “You can’t say I did it! Don’t shake you bloody head at me!”

“...he just makes himself act more polite and mannerly than ever til he begins to see how funny the whole thing is--the rules, the disapproving looks they use to enforce the rules, the way of talking to you like you’re nothing but a three-year-old--and when he sees how funny it is he goes to laughing, and this aggravates them to no end (Kesey 117).”

"How would you know, Dax? You're not inside my head," He turned three fourth of a way, not enough to fall over. His hands that were in his pocket were now out in forms of fists, "Is it because I'm not an attention seeker like you, or maybe it's just because I'm a

I look up and glare at him. Now was not the time to mess with me.

“Thanks.” Samandriel said adverting his eyes away from hers. He didn’t mean to draw attention to himself.

KID looked at Conan in slight surprise, and then covered it wit a smirk. "You're no ordinary brat, huh?" He just stared at her, waiting for an answer, that smirk never leaving his face.

Cosmicpaw hadn’t been here for long and she still wasn’t sure if she was going to be staying or not. She had come back to Blizzardclan to check up on the place because she did care about this clan even if she wouldn’t show it. But mostly to see if her father ever came back. It would seem that he may have left for good after her mother, Tama, died. The girl wanted to blame him but how could she? Cosmic hadn’t been a good daughter and wasn’t sure if she would have stuck around for herself. It still hurt that he was out of her life now. No one ever stuck around, which is why she was afraid to stay. Scared to make friends who would see her sour personality and just leave her alone yet again. What terrified her the most was the idea of the voices

“MONTAG! Do you even have anything going on in that spaced-out head of yours?” Beatty chastised before smirking down at me.

The speaker asserts that as we investigate about history we cannot realize truth directly, consequently, we assemble different histories to show and demonstrate historical evidence as bona fide ones, and therefore, all historians are storytellers. This is an extreme approach, moreover, many historical events can be known directly by reliable evidence.

“I’m going to fuse helium before going senile as a white dwarf. So is my life more worthless than yours?” Cicero-α bit on his lip and blinked a few times.

I interpret that to mean that you cannot get an accurate reconstruction of history without the personal letters and writings of the day to show us the quality of people of whom we are learning about.

" Well that I'm the leader of a pack... well sorta" He replies "So is your family werewolf's too" I asked "

“Why did you still give me this after me not listening to your idea?” Neptune asked.

“Yes,” Michael said. “You’ve faked an interest in science just to spend time with me. You’re also smart, funny, and hot. What’s not to like?”

"Do you realize that the past, starting from yesterday, has been actually abolished? If it survives anywhere, it 's in a few solid objects with no words attached to them, like that lump of glass there. Already we know almost literally nothing about the Revolution and the years before the Revolution. Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book has been rewritten, every picture has been repainted, every statue and street and building has been renamed, and every date has been altered. And that process is continuing day-by-day and minute-by-minute. History has stopped.”