Rwby Phone 소설 & 이야기

She is not Perfect. And she is not Pure. She is Chaos. And she is Order. She is a Witch. And she is a Goddess. She is cruel. And she is merciful. She is anything you desire her to be. And everything you fear and run from. She can be your Saviour. And she can be your Death. She is a pawn for the gods. And she is insane. * The gods determined her death five years ago, but she survived, and she plans on living long enough to enjoy the life that was nearly taken from her, breaking the laws that keep women from domineering. Leonidas is peace and the only thing that keeps her sane. He is her beginning, and he shall be her end. But she knew that it was all worth it, for his sake.

Under the new red sun, the mutated animals and the mutated people called "fighters" are engaged in a never-ending war for control of the Earth. When three delinquents students are given scholarships to Yellow Sun Academy, the most prestigious fighter academy, it falls to them and their new friends to defend the Earth from the animals. Can the fighter students rise to the occasion and saved all of mankind? Or will the animals finally win? (Inspired by Rooster Teeth's RWBY)

"Buzz… Buzz…" Alexia's cell phone vibrated as she sniffed then reached out for her phone which was in her side pocket and when she took it out she realized it was an unknown number. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Who in the world is this?" she soliloquized then swiped her thumb across the screen taking the phone to her left ear. "Hello… am I speaking with Alexia Chaney?" A deep male voice came through the phone as Alexia sat upright. "Yes, this Is Alexia Chaney," She clears her throat. "I heard you can play the guitar and I hope you will like a day's job, you will be paid handsomely for it. Are you interested?" said the man again over the phone as Alexia blinked. "Okay, I am interested. What is the occasion and venue?" She asked. "SBE wine corporation will be launching a new wine tomorrow alongside the birthday celebration of the CEO, Richard Robertson, and there will be a night party at his Estate," The man said as Alexia's eyes popped wide open and she parted her lips. She couldn't believe she just accepted an invitation to perform for a man who just wrecked her show. "I will text you the address, first thing in the morning. Get prepared because it is a big party and Richard loves something exceptional," said the man as he hung up.

Half a month ago, I found out my husband, Vincent, was cheating on me. I accidentally discovered an encrypted burner phone hidden in a secret compartment of his armored SUV. Inside were dozens of explicit photos and countless graphic, flirtatious texts. The other person was his hot chief secretary, Chloe. The fairy tale was shattered by reality. I looked at the positive pregnancy test in my hand and calmly threw it into the trash can. I put the phone back exactly as I found it. That very day, I had my lawyer draft the divorce papers and signed my name, stroke by stroke. I opened my phone and replied to an email:[Professor, I officially accept the invitation to the Zurich Institute.] This time, I won't look back.

he can make a billion dollars in business go bankrupt with a single phone call. the heir of the world's richest family.

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

Four months pregnant. I was alone when a rival family came for me.. A searing pain tore through my stomach. I couldn't reach my husband, Don Lorenzo. His phone was off. I woke up in a sterile hospital bed. Three days had passed. And the baby... was gone. That’s when I heard the nurses gossiping. “Heard Don Lorenzo cleared out a block of Fifth Avenue for his mistress three days ago. Had his phone off so they wouldn't be disturbed.” Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my heart was empty. I gave up my career, my whole life, for him. The Don who promised me forever… he shattered that promise just days before our fifth anniversary. Back home, I dug out an old phone and made a call. A number I hadn't touched in five years. "The European tour you mentioned…" I said, my voice hollow. "I'm in. I can be ready in a week."

On the day I was kidnapped, my husband was looking after his sick sweetheart. I called him, asking him for help. Yet, he merely replied coldly, "Danica, you are a bad liar." After that, he heartlessly hung up the phone call on me, causing me to get brutally murdered by the kidnappers. I failed to show up as scheduled on the day we agreed to finalize our divorce. He called me in exasperation, only for the phone call to be answered by the police. "Mr. Ferguson, are you a family member of the deceased Danica Reed?"

I found out my husband, Logan Atkinson, had quietly added his secretary's number to our family plan. [Dear customer, the number ending in 8848 has been successfully added to your family plan. Effective immediately, all calls between plan members are free.] I held up my phone and looked straight at Logan. "You're treating her like family. What does that make me?" He sounded annoyed. "Regina said staying on the phone with me every night was getting expensive. If she's on the family plan, it doesn't cost anything. She's just used to saving money. Don't read into it." Regina said she had severe depression and couldn't fall asleep, so Logan stayed on the phone with her every night for at least seven hours. I stared at the call logs in the family plan. Even on our wedding anniversary, when I closed my eyes, wishing we would make it through another ten years and grow old side by side… He was still on the phone with Regina Dittman, coaxing her to sleep. When I didn't say anything, Logan looked a little surprised. "Wow. Quiet today? Finally learned how to be the bigger person?" I just didn't feel like arguing with them anymore. All those fights before had only proven one thing: he always chose Regina. After ten years in a broken marriage, it was time to set things straight.

“Three hundred dollars for rent just went through. Thanks, Claire.” A text popped up on Claire’s phone from a contact saved as “Mark.” I grabbed the phone before she could react and froze. “Rent?” I asked. “You’ve been telling me every month that money was from your side job.” Her face went stiff. She reached for the phone, trying to take it back. “He was my sister Emily’s husband,” Claire said quickly. “After Emily died, he was left with two kids. I was only trying to help.” My hand brushed against the anniversary gift in my pocket, and something inside me went cold. “Which apartment is he paying rent for?” Her lips parted, but it took her a long time to answer. When she finally did, she gave me the name of a neighborhood. My ears rang. It was the downtown apartment my parents had left me. A spacious unit that could rent for ten thousand a month at market rate. And she had leased it to her widowed brother-in-law for the absurdly low price of three hundred dollars.