I'm sorry, but I have no gold to pay you, if you do this it will be fore fun.




# What is the contest's theme?
The theme.... humm, any story you dare or care to write with my two characters as the main players.
# What kind of work will be accepted?
short stories, no song fics please
minimum word count....around three hundred ( but please try not to count words.)
# Is there an entry fee?
NO!
# How many entries will be accepted/how long will submissions run?
Being that this is not an actual contest, there is no set date.



romance is prefered, but hey- that's up to you. You can even make them hate one another, what ever you feel most comfortable writing.





First pair- times period and setting:
1700s France-
Darius- an actor who was blinded in a horrible accident and has a mean temper. He lives in the attic of his theater.

Cassidy- a whore whom Darius had hired for her services and later hired as his lead actress.


Second pair-times period and setting:
1920s Chicago-
Pepin- And old mob boss (around early 70s) with a horrible temper.

Angelina- in her early 20s, a spy sent to ruin Pepin's business but she falls in love with him before she ruins him.

if there are any questions about this please feel free to post here or to PM me! I love to read, and reading stories about my characters is just so wonderful. So if you love to write feel free to give this a shot.

I have a few examples of writing I have gotten about them, I shall post one of each very soon. If any one would like a few more ideas to go on then what I have already given please pm me.

Cassidy and Darius
It had been a long time since he had been able to see the city at night, let alone anything at all since the accident. It was years ago now, but he recalled it all clearly, as well he should. They were the last moments he had to actually enjoy his vision.

He recreated the nightscape as he always did. Bits of sky and city pulled from various memories like a broken mirror. It reflected the general image of what he wanted to see, whether it was perfect or not, it was what he had to work with. There was a rustling in the bed behind him. Soon, feet had touched the floor, and he could hear and feel her small footsteps heading for the door.

"You're forgetting something." He said, coldly.

Cassidy turned with her hand still on the door knob. Darius was motioning to the dresser, and the livre that rested on it's dirty oak top.

"I think it's you who's forgetting something. I don't do that anymore, remember?" She replied.

"If you say so."

She left the room. In truth, Darius didn't forget. It had been quite some time now since he first paid Cassidy for her body. She gave him a discount, thinking he wouldn't notice, taking pity on a poor blind has been. He was successful before the accident, before the Revolution. Once he lost his sight though, there was little call for an actor who couldn't see. It wasn't that he needed his eyes for the lines. It was more to do with the way he recovered from the accident. He became bitter and drunk. Darius drilled his own name into the muddy streets of France. Then he met her.

Cassidy was just one of countless whores, and not a particularly high classed one at that. She wasn't the first he'd been with, nor was she the last. However, he'd be lying if he ever tried to say she didn't capture him from that moment. All women of her trade were skilled in the lie. Skilled in creating fantasy whenever they needed it. She it seemed, was a master. So masterful was her performance, it made him feel whole again. It was from that first time together, that he decided to take her on. He contracted her again, but this time not for sexual reasons.

As he trained her in the ways of directing her lie toward a more public craft, he found that she had in her the heart and mind of a great actress. At first he admired her for her ability, and drive to become something more than a walking orifice. Soon though, it became apparent that with her talents, she could easily leave his employ. She was that good, and he secretly loathed her for it. He hated that she came from less than he, and was better at all that he once was. Accident or no, she was his superior on any stage. Yet she stayed with him, and Darius could never know why.

It was only through endless hours at the bottle, and squabbles with all his inner demons that he came to develop a never ending hatred for her, steeped in admiration and love. He felt Cassidy pitied him, and despised the thought, though she never really did. Their love for each other was true, but he could never accept it. Instead, his temper and fire, demanded that he hurt her back. Hurt her for all the hurt she unknowingly caused him.

He never forgot that she was now an actress, for how could he? However, he never missed an opportunity to remind Cassidy where it was she once was. Darius got some pleasure out of leaving money on the dresser. Somehow he must have known. Somewhere deep inside, he must have known that it made no difference to Cassidy. She was a prostitute, and had far worse pains delt upon her than he could hand her personally. Still she cried. She cried, because she knew not how to make the man she loved understand what he meant to her. She cried, because she didn't know how help sate his hatred at the world, even though she accepted his directing it at her.

Pepin and Angie
Pepin grunted. His office was full of the usual type - degenerate scum that belonged to the mob, all willing to do anything to please their boss or earn a spot of money. The only difference from the norm was that every single goon was yelling to get their point across, and it was giving Pepin a headache. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, his voice rising above all others. The room instantly went silent.

It wasn't long before someone started to speak again. "Boss," asserted Big Jimmy, a tall, beefy man in his mid-forties, "We have ta' do sumfing. That hussy's a spy! She's been fooling us all along!"

"Yeah!" Clark burst in. "And it's gotta be something good. I can't believe we let her fool us!"

Jack nodded from his spot on the wall. "Leave her to me. I'll make her bleed."

"What?" Clark half-yelled. "No way I'm letting you get her. I want to hear that bitch scream for what she did. No one messes with us. Next thing you know, our setup'll be full o' spies and we'll be over!"

Soon, the room was a cacophany of sound again, each man putting forth his own plan for what to do. Pepin rubbed his forehead warily. There's only one thing to do. I have to end it myself... He cut Big Jimmy off in the middle of his sentence, standing up and pronouncing, "Dammit, I'll do it myself, you useless bums!" Big Jimmy turned to glare at whoever had interrupted him, but when he saw the fire in his boss' eyes, he backed down immediately. "You can all go. If you hear anything else about traItors, tell me right away. Now leave." The room began to clear out; the men knew better than to say anything when the boss talked in that voice. "Wait," Pepin said, as a pockmarked man began to exit. "You stay, Cole. I've got something to discuss with you..."

---

It was the end of another day, weeks after the mob meeting. Pepin sat at a bench near the docks, his head bent, waiting... I have to do this...money before heart. Business before personal. No hesitation. "Pepin?" a voice said behind him. Pepin turned warily; the voice had startled him, true, but there was little that could make the mob boss jump; he had seen a lot in his seventy years.

"Yes, Angelina. Please, come sit," he said, patting on the seat next to him. She walked to the bench and had a seat warily; Pepin could sense how tense she was. Let's get this over with.

Pepin turned to look Angelina in the face; she tilted her head slightly so that she wouldn't have to look directly in his eyes. The mob boss' glare was intense. "Angelina." he said slowly. "You've been passing off as a spy." It was not a question.

To her credit, Angelina did not react as another would have. Her face remained as steady as ever. "Someone's lying to you," she said immediately.

In response, Pepin stood up; at once, Angelina jumped off the chair in a defensive position. Pepin watched her eyes dart to her right foot and back to Pepin himself. Her gun. But she won't shoot. She thinks there are people around...but Cole's made sure the only people around are my own men.

Pepin mentioned at the seat. "Sit down," he grunted. Angelina eyed him warily for a moment before slowly sitting down again. She wouldn't risk angering such an important person. Pepin began to stroll back and forth in front of her. "Dammit, Angelina! Why did you have to be one of them? You know what I have to do."

Angelina paled visibly. "No...I didn't!" she protested.

Pepin looked at her for a long time. Angelina said nothing, awaiting his judgment. Finally he said, "Fine. If you say so." Relieved, Angelina made to get up, but Pepin shook his head. "Wait," he said. "Hear me out first." Angelina nodded, glad that he believed her. This will be the easiest way. Pepin started, "You know, maybe you're right about some things. I could turn myself in, end this life." As he spoke, he began to circle around the bench, until he was standing right behind Angelina. "It's so damn annoying always hiding." When Angelina turned to look at him, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Focus on the sunset," he commanded. "Isn't it beautiful? It's setting. Maybe my career should, too."

Angelina murmured, "It could be for the best..." She was secretly ecstatic. Could the ruthless Pepin be reforming? Would he turn himself in, make everything easier without resorting to violence?

"Mebbe," Pepin commented. Business first before personal, he reminded himself again. "Life could be easier if I tore down my business." His loud voice obscured a faint sound from his pocket, a click almost too soft to be heard. "I could keep a little profit. You and I, we could go places. Live together for a little while." Pepin slowly brought the gun out of his pocket, putting the barrel at the base of Angelina's neck. "I'm getting old, though. It'd only be a matter of time. Before we'd say..." his finger tightened on the trigger.

"Good-bye."

Bang.