I was in desperate need of a new profile. *coughs and straightens up* For one reason or another, you're looking at my fanfiction. Yes, I know, that's a scary thought. However, you're here, and I guess I might as well take up time and space telling you about humble 'ittle me.
I'm 15, and have been driving since July, with the only major accident being I ran into a light post while backing out of the driveway (which my brothers' friends haven't let me forget).
I'm a sophmore in high school. Or, slut-more is the term the juniors and seniors are using. .
I am a devote lover of band, drama, and small animals (cats in particular). In band, I play my beloved bass clarinet, and am first chair (out of two, so woo, big accomplishment). In drama, I am a tech. I used to clean the dressing rooms, I have no clue what I'll be doing now. With small animals, I'm in an animal care course, will be working at a pet store and volunteering at the animal shelter when I'm 16 this coming June, will sometime join FFA if drama doesn't interfere, and live with three of the best cats in the world.
I am willing to beta read any stories (fics or originals) for anyone who is willing to receive a little critique (which I am in desperate need of for myself). I usually only point out small grammatical errors and spelling errors (despite my horrible spelling) and the like. I've beta-ed before, but not extensively, so if you're up to helping Seroci gain experience, all you need do is e-mail me.
I like my new hat.
I'm not too happy with my writing, but I post it here anyway because I've received death threats if I don't. So I'm here for the saving of my own life. Kudos to any who survive through my fics and have enough life left to review; I thrive on your presence.
I currently am writing fanfiction for Harry Potter. A little bit of Star Wars, when I feel like it, and maybe I'll continue writing Digimon, though that stopped a while ago. I cleaned up a lot of my stuff, threw out a few older fics, but left some of the ones that a lot of people seemed to like.
Beware my disclaimers. I can't always think of something witty, so I may end up hurting someone. You have been warned.
My muse is a monkey, a very annoying monkey, who's name is (wow) Monkey. I actually have to pay him so he'll do the job, but he doesn't do the job, so I don't know why I pay him. He claims to be in leagues with Michael Jackson. He is a firm hater of my stories and the like, as well as a firm hater of me; the feelings are returned.