Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
My writing is fast- not the pretty writing even everyone else seems to be blessed with. But right now, Iām glad I write quick. My thoughts are a jumbled mess. Filled with grief for what Iāve lost, wonder for what is to come, but most of all- fear. Gut-wrenching, white-knuckled, trembling fear. Cold sweat dribbles down my hot neck. I can feel teartracks still wet on my face. I turn away from the door, part of me hope that it will calm me.
I can still feel them. Their heavy boots thumping against metal ramps. Their scratchy voices calling out orders to one another. The way their big flashlights darted across rooms, almost uncovering our hiding spot. I take a deep, shaky breath. In, out- breathe. It doesnāt help. Emotion Ā sucker punches me once more. I double over and let the tears spill, streaming down my face. Thankfully, I keep quiet. Letting out silent, painful sobs. Then I fall silent. My heart seems to stop, its rhythmic beating gone. Theyāre here.
Iām going to be participating in the Hamilton Challenge! Basically Iām going to write and finish 51 stories in six months, like how Alexander Hamilton wrote 51 essays in six months. Iāll be posting my work here as well as updates! Feel free to talk to me about the challenge, or even other stuff
(so this is essentially the result of me wonderingĀ āwhy aren't there any WOMENāS sports anime?!ā and taking matters into my own hands)
(also this is totes my first entry into @thehamiltonchallengeā)
She sits under the tree, still as silence and cold as ice, her long raven-black hair cascading past her shoulders and littered with fallen cherry blossoms from the tree, startlingly, brilliantly pink against the darkness.
Like a princess, Akane thinks. A noble lady from old Japan, the sort that would command ten thousand samurais after her husbandās death and then become the greatest empress that Japan- no, the world- has ever seenā¦
āHey!ā Akane calls, her frantic canāt-be-late-for-gymnastics-practice gallop slowing to a more sensible jog.
The girl pays her no heed.
āHey!ā Akane calls again, her tone sharpening.
The girl finally turn her head, an errant breeze catching her hair, sending it flying around her head in a thousand midnight strands, each one shimmering in the sun.
As Akane reaches her, she feels her heart dance in her chest.
Her eyes are so blue- so, so blue, blue as hydrangeas, blue as the hardest ice, blue as the country sky that Akane once told her mother she was going to grow wings and explore.
They illuminate her face, almost, bringing life to her paper-white skin like sunlight on water, their vivid intensity counterbalancing the rich red of Akaneās own.
Like fire and iceā¦
Akane opens her mouth, only to find that her usually-loquacious tongueās run dry, apparently having decided that youāre beautiful and are you legit royalty? are insufficient icebreakers.
āYouāre new here, arenāt you?ā she finally manages to stammer, tacking on an āI havenāt seen you here before,ā when the other girl fails to respond.
āYes,ā the strange girl says, so softly the word almost vanishes into the wind.
āIām Sakura Akane!ā she said with a forceful bow that whips her twintails up and dow. āIām a first year at Furukawa Middle School, Iāve been doing gymnastics since I was really little- whatās your name? Are you a first year too? I think Iāve sen you around-ā
āHonoka Yukiko. And yes, I am.ā
āThatās a really pretty name! It really fits you- hey, are you heading to the gymnastics club?ā
She nods.
āAwesome! Welcome to Nakamura Gymnastics Club- the absolute greatest gymnastics club in Tottori Prefecture! Here at Nakamura, we donāt just train winners- we train champions!ā
āAnd somedayā¦ā Akane pauses, putting one fist over her heart in a mock salute, āyou'll see the greatest Nakamura gymnast of them all standing on the Olympic stage, gold around her neck- ME!!ā
Her speech is met with crickets.
āUhā¦ā Akane scratches her head,ā you do do gymnastics, donāt you?ā
Another nod.
āOi! Whatās with that silent act?ā Akane complains, one eyebrow twitching. āIt wouldnāt kill you to open your mouth once in a while, yāknow. āSlike you never even talk.ā
A glint shines from deep within Yukikoās eyes; the corners of her mouth give the slightest twitch. āAnd you speak from pamphlets.ā
āOi! Whatās that supposed to mean?!ā
Yukiko reaches inside the pocket of her jean skirt and retrieves a navy blue phone. She flips open the top once the places it back in her pocket. āItās time.ā
āTimeā¦ for gym? Why didnāt you tell me?!ā
The two of them break into a run, Yukiās black hair flying out behind her beside Akaneās own reddish blond.
āTheresās no time!ā Akane gasps as the buildingās entrance comes into view. āThe gateās around the corner- we canāt turn fast enough!ā
āItās a vault.ā
āWhat?ā
Yuki turns her head to look forward once more, narrowing her eyes as she focuses on the fence.
A vaultā¦
Is she gonna jump the fence?!
Akane surges forward, her pulse pounding to the beat of her stride, the world a blur. Youāre not getting ahead of me, Yuki-chan!
She reaches the fence, leaps, and throws her body forward.
Her fingers touch the top rail, pushing off with all her might- and then sheās flying, head over heels through the air, every muscle in her small frame drawn tight.
Itās times like this when Akane gains her wings.
The ground rushes up to her- too fast, too soon.
She lands on the balls of her feet- and promptly stumbles, her leftover momentum forcing her hard onto one knee. āOw!ā
A bright smear of blood on the pavement marks her landing.
But any and all pain is forgotten as she looks over her right shoulder.
For Honoka Yukiko has taken the fence.
She pushes off the top into a graceful, effortless backflip, her body a perfect C curve- then draws her knees close to her chest.
She spins once, twice, floating almost, before finally landing, as lightfooted as a sparrow, her arms stretched wide, her dark hair cascading down her back.
Akaneās jaw hits the pavement as her eyes stretch into saucers. Someone so gracefulā¦
āThat was amazing!ā she blurts, starry-eyed. āWhatās your level? Are you an Elite? Youāve gotta be, youāve got the best form Iāve ever seen, and-ā
With a swish of her hair, Yukiko turns on her heel and glides off to the buildingās entrance.
Akaneās brow furrows. Heyā¦
āWait!ā she calls, scrambling to her feet, heedless of the sting from her skinned knee. āI still need to introduce you to my friends! Ai-chan and Satomi-chan-ā
But itās too late. Yuki is gone.
Grinning from ear to ear, Akane takes off after her, her arms spread wide.
Spread into wings.
***
And from that day, I had something to strive for. A way to fly.
***
(but in the end, Icarus flew too close to the sun)
so yeah that was just a sneak preview MORE COMING LATER TRUST ME
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
Well, I figured Iād give that Hamilton Challenge a shot -- at least for a day. I stayed up wayyy too late, honestly, tonightĀ āwritingā this -- itās my first draft at a translation of Persiusās second satire (a little more than halfway done -- lines 1 through 52). Itās pretty rough and not very poetic, but what the hell. Itās written for his friend Macrinusās birthday and itās on the proper nature of prayer. In the section Iāve translated he criticizes evil prayers, then silly prayers, then finally senseless prayers. Hope you enjoy it if you read it!
Macrinus, count off this birthday with a better pebble
which, shiny-white, adds to your account the years slipping by.
Pour honeywine for your guardian angel. You donāt use bribing
prayers to demand things which you are unwilling
toĀ entrust to the gods, unless they're drawn aside in private;
but a good part of the leading citizens willĀ offer a sacrifice
on the silent incense-caskets.Ā It is not easy for just anyone
to carry the whisperingĀ and humble murmuring out from temples
and to live oneās life in accord with their open vow. These things,
"A good mind, reputation, and honesty," a man saysĀ clearly
and so that a stranger might hear; Ā to himself, inwards and
under his breath, he mutters: Ā "oh, let my uncle kick the bucket;
what a grand funeral that would be!" Ā and "oh, if Hercules
is favorable, let some cask of silver Ā rattle for me under the rake!
or if only I could write Ā that orphan out of the will, whom I,
being the nearest heir,Ā harass; for that uncle is also mangy
and swells with harsh bile. Ā That money-lender Nerius's third
wife is already being buried." So that you might piously request
these things, you dip your head into the Tiber's eddy twice in the
morning and three times do you atone for last night in the river.
Hey! Come on! Tell me (it's the least which I strive to know),
what do you think about Jupiter? Is it the case
that you deign to prefer him to -- to whom? to whom, man?
do you bother to rate him more highly than you do
that Staius fellow? oh, obviouslyĀ you're at a loss
for words. Which is a better judge or more fitting
for orphan boys? Therefore, tell Staius that, with which
you try to reach the ear of Jupiter. "Oh, Jupiter," he
would swear, "oh good Jupiter!" But wouldn't Jupiter himself
swear byĀ himself at that? You think he's forgiven you,
since, when he thunders, the great oak tree is destroyed faster
with sacred sulfer than you or your house? Or since you do not lie
dead and wretched in a grove, as a hallowed haunt to be shunned
according to the order of a diviner and his sheep's entrails?
On thisĀ account do you think Jupiter is offering you to tug
at his stubborn beard? Or with which payment have you bought
the little ears of the gods? With a sacrificed animal's lung and innards?
Look over here! A grandmother and an aunt
(skilled at turning away the evil eye)
removed a baby boy from his cradle and, with their middle finger
(and first with purifying spittle) anoint his forehead and dribbling lips;
then she shakes with her hands and sends, with an entreating prayer,
this frail hope off now into the fields of Licinius,
now into the temples of Crassus: "let a king and queen choose him
for a son-in-law, let the girls scramble after him; whatever
he shall have tread on, let it become a rose.
But I do not command the vows for a nurse.
You should deny these things, Jupiter, to her,
although she will have asked them of you
while properly clad in white, the customary attire.
You there, youĀ ask for strength in your sinews and a firm
body for your old age. Well, thereās no fault in that.
But your heaping platters and fattened sausages
do not allow the gods to acknowledge these prayers
and even delay Jupiter. You over here hope to heap up
riches and you summon Mercury with the entrails
of a slain cow: "grant that my household prosper,
grant it to my livestock, and grant offspring for
the peoples.ā With which agreement, idiot, when
so many fatskins of heifers melt away in the flame
for you? And nevertheless he strains to persuade
them with entrails and a fertile sacrificial cake:
"now, let my field grow! now, let my sheepfold grow!
now, let it be given to me! now, now!" up until
the point when, tricked and hopeless, his money
sighs from the bottom of his purse in vain.
