Well, I tend to write action/adventure with overtones that range from drama, tragedy, romance, comedy, philosophical/spiritual, and horror.
As to what I've publicly written, not a lot since I used to be shy about my works, but not anymore. You could say that it's been only recently where I've started to adventure with my stories on this super information highway.
That being said, here's a small excerpt from one of my massive fan-fiction projects, 'Journey'.
Labored breaths and heavy gasps filled the air as they arrived, the ice already melting off the leaves and trees. The pokèmon who did the attack simply pointed to the slightly-conscious form that was a fellow human being to Tracey and Oak, who widened their eyes at the serious and possibly fatal condition the person was in.
"-hu... N-n-next t-time. I...I-I-I'll fin...n-nally k-kill you-u..." mumbled the male voice of the person before he finally slipped into consciousness, a testament to his will at even being conscious through the insane amount of wounds the man had on his being.
"Tracey, I want you to go back to my lab and call the emergencies. From what I remember from my small bit of human medicine (A simple requisite to be a Pokèmon Scientist. Go Figure), if this man isn't in a hospital being treated in the next hour, he'll die. Now go!" he ordered as Tracey nodded without a word and ran off with his Scythe at his side towards the research laboratory.
"You did good, Rebecca, quite resourceful for a Nidoqueen," he praised to her, before he turned his attention to the unconscious man. "Now to hope, that this man lives through it," Oak said as he took in the man's being, "l-l-live...on.." the man muttered unconsciously.
Brown hair, black urban camouflage gear, an automatic rifle of some kind; if the Professor hazard a guess on the highly illegal weapon on the man's person, along with several baseball-sized orbs of different varieties; almost all of which had pins except for one which pulsated with a bluish glow. Grenades of different kinds, if he had to guess again, been witness to Lt. Surge's armory he had in his gym for extreme emergencies. A nasty looking Knife, encrusted with blood of various kinds.
Oak only hoped that this man of unknown origins but who's trade was quite obvious would be a boon to the world at large instead of a heavy detriment to it. If he lived through his wounds, he thought as he knelt besides the man.
Somehow, the saying 'May you live in interesting times' came to mind as he stared at the man before dismissing the thought and doing all he could to alleviate the man of anymore pain while trying his best to not aggravate his wounds further.
PS: And yes, I did say one. My muse is a fickle lady <.<