July 9, 2008 - 5:04am — Porcelain
"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
________________ _____ ____ ___ __ _
A muscular, dark stag stood beneath one of two waterfalls bursting through hard marble that made up the Crying Idol, its tears spewing with emotion. He was trying to clear his vision what with crytal dew-drops lazily lying on his eyelashes, blurring his view, blinking until, finally, he made out a rainbow material shining blindingly beneath the rippling surface of the river created from the stone's tear trails. The flowing waters were clear as glass and you could see everything beneath it, from the bubbles erupting behind frightened, tiny fish's tails to the swaying, long grasses soaked forever inside the waters of purity.
Finished showering, the stag cautiously picked up wet hooves and set them gently in front of him, continuing this cycle until he was nearer to the strange substance. Was this a pearl? It looked very much like it, though it was obviously not a circle like such a beauty created from an oyster would be. And it certainly was not round. It was useless trying to decifer what it was as it's image deformed repeatedly while the water distorted and bent all light reflecting off the surface. He would have to touch it and hope it was harmless, then drag it to land for further inspection. Determined, he lowered his heavy, dusty, curved antlers and dipped them below the waters until he hit sand, moving his head to the right and forward until he hit what he imagined was the unidentified object. He briskly dug further into the sand and dug a small hole beneath the pearlish shape, then dipped his antler lower until he unknowingly jerked his head back up. The satisfied stag grinned a familiar crooked smile beneath his birdish mask as the flipping item landed lightly onto the elevated grasses next to the rock without so much as a thud to follow for a sound.
The stag did not want any excess water to drip from his pelt onto his new treasure, so he spread all four legs apart and abrubtly shook in a furious way, skin shaking in a massage-like feeling as water flew from his dark, purple furs and back into the river like rain on a sunny day. Now that he was partially dry he felt the need to look closer at his new obsession, try as he might to pretend as if he cared not for something no one else has ever seen. Driven almost to a point of being mad, he hopped onto higher grounds that dipped into the river, hooves slamming onto the grasses and gingerly letting dirt dust into the air as a result from his unfemine landing.
And there it was, glimmering in front of him. It was not a pearl as he had previously considered, thought it looked smooth and had the same rainbow color that moved as you did across the white curves that made up a chip from something unknown. It even seemed to glow as if the Twin Gods themselves shed their own perfect light onto it, though it was faint and still growing fainter as time ticked away like sand in an hourglass. It frustrated the stag the he could not figure it out. How stupid he felt! But one thing he did know was that, if it's glow was fading, then it must have at one point stayed alight forever. And it's curves were ragged as if chipped and broken off of something else; something larger though still small. He burrowed his eyebrows in deep thought.
In the moment, our curious character did not hear someone else enter nearby. This new doe roared in his ear as a triumphant entrance into our story, already giggling devishly before she had ended her call and before she saw him react. The startled stag looked up and heard a faint crack, instinctively glancing back down at his new find. It had split in two from the weight of his hoof that moved in his sudden jump down onto the already broken piece. It certainly was not as sturdy as it had looked. He had been already depressed before this, and now that his treasure was broken, he suddenly plummeted even further into his darker side of emotions. The stag looked back up at the sassy newcomer, grunting at her half-heartedly and mouthing an endearment that looked like the name "Aspen", a stiff and tough doe that followed her brother around as if waiting for the moment to enter and start trouble. She seemed to be doing just that.
As her saddened brother walked away, she spoke in her own language the recognizable whisper that was Vipin's title. Vipin turned his head slowly and continued on after he saw that Aspen did not have anything more to say, surprisingly shocked that he did not respond back to her earlier spook. She let her lone brother wander off into the shade of the trees towering into the clouds, shiedling out the sun's harsh rays that managed to break through open spaces in the brances and trees. This created a dizzying pattern on the olive-planted grass below, and that, in turn, created an eerily beautiful day all around.
Aspen pretended on the outside that she did not care for her brother's emotions, even snarling to herself as if to prove her own brain a point. She jerked her head back and slipped her tongue across her upper lip, an utter sign of disrespect and cruel hatred in this forest world. There. She had managed to trick her brain into thinking he would be fine alone. Persuaded, she shifted her attention to two twinkling objects, hideous in her eyes and ugly as it was broken and chipped. Perhaps she was jealous that it looked like a substence mistakenly fallen from heaven. How could a rock look even more beautiful than she? Annoyed, she snorted and leaned down to pick up the pieces between her teeth, then threw her head to the side as she opened her mouth. The objects had a harsh encounter with the ebony stones of the Idol, shattering into countless, shimmering-rainbow pieces that sprayed from where it broke like the most beautiful, short shower of a rain that anyone ever set eyes upon. Even Aspen, always seeming to be cruel and not giving a second glance to the beauties of her land, seemed stunned by this. They even floated gently downward rather than disappearing into the dirt like any normal material would. How light it must be! She watched it with changing eyes, from grey to navy blue, as the star-like pieces flew with the winds currents, circling and spinning as the air twirled, picking up nearby debris like leaves and butterflies.
This beautiful art in the sky danced its way towards the large and evergrowing, epic Old Oak, a masterpiece of aging bark twined with twitching leaves that rattled like a happy fawn shaking with happiness upon its first steps. Inside this gentle giant lay a shaded patch filled with cold shadows and padded with thick, healthy, wet soil. The debris and rainbow-rain happened to blow in here, blowing down like fairy dust upon its creator. A petite, abnormally-tiny fawn shamefully turned her head from the twinkling dust, her white head slamming against the farthest corner of the tree, curled up as tight and small as she anatomically could manage as if hoping she would eventually burst and break her tiny bones inside so that she would never be able to move again and die in vain. But this was not the case. The fawn was simply lonely and decided to try and rest, but this was proving difficult with micoscopic crystals irritating her nose. She had no choice but to sneeze and she immediately worried that someone would hear her bodily function that suceeded in removing the dust. After she listened for many long, dragging seconds, she decided to rise on fragile legs and leave the cold of the hollow inside owned by the Oak. But before she left, she poked her head out into the sun and turned her head to the left and right, like a child looking for cars before crossing a long and dangerous road.
After she was convinced no one was around, she ran with all of her might into the hot sunlight, her white, pearl-shined body blindingly lit in the sun's presence. This glow dwindled in time to a light that did not burn the eyes of onlookers but was still piercingly beautiful. It was an angel driven straight from heaven, her beauty too much for the saints above and sent back because of her body not belonging in their light. Even though this was not the case, it was a popular tale onlookers told after claiming to have caught sight of a dash of rainbow-light flying through the forest at a speed no one could match unless they strained their legs as much as she. Why did she not tire as they did at such a pace? People claimed the angel was immortal and did not feel pain. But this was not the reason, either. It seemed no one truly knew this fawn that was small as a fully-grown rabbit. In truth, the fawn whom people came to entitle Porcelain, simply could not feel anything against her glassy skin. She had recently run into the Crying Idol in a fit of unknown anger, throwing her side at its stone until her own skin broke off as if a cup dropped onto a hard floor. In her shock she had run to the oak, forgetting to pick up after herself and not feeling a thing. Had a normal deer done as she did they might even have died of bloodloss. Porce did not have blood. She did not have skin. She was made up only of glass and opal substances all mixed with other such fragile minerals, being hollow on the inside with nothing but an unneeded skeleton and a forever beating heart that she listened to as she slept.
The fawn finally looked down and found herself in her favorite patch of lilacs--purple flowers alive with butterfly wings flittering on every petal. With her in the middle of this small field of vanilla-scented beauty, the insects flew off in shock, waiting for her to stop moving so they could return to their feeding. Porcelain felt they flew in shame of being so near a beast. She was aware of the rumors constantly birthing as she passed by normal onlooker's sight, but she did not believe a word of it. She may be gorgeous and unpained, but this is what she did not like. She longed to be normal. She wanted to know what the feeling of grass felt like against her hooves, or how water felt against skin and fur she would never have. She did not even know what the shedding pedals around her feet felt like, and she could not even describe something as being soft or hard. She never would. These thoughts invaded her mind until she uncautiously threw her side carelessly onto the floor, stiffling sobs by filling her mouth with nearby grass and spitting it out when she realized it failed horribly. She simply closed her mouth and closed her eyes, waiting for herself to fall asleep while crying. Has there been a time she has not slept with tears in her eyes?
However, just because she cannot feel things outwardly does not mean she can never feel emotions inwardly. She would need someone to love before she ever knew what this was like. This moment would soon come.
ew lol
Aspen's entrance made me
----
My TEF Fanfiction: Rubies in the Pond
Click!
Very well written, such a
To pray is to believe, to believe is to purify one's soul
To pray is to believe, to believe is to purify one's soul
OMG HER OMG HER OMG HER WHY
OMG HER
OMG HER
WHY ARE YOU SO AMAZING
FDFDSFSFSF;;kfjsf;j;j;sfj
I TOLD YOU THAT YOU COULDN'T PUT THEM IN
AND NOW THEY'RE BOTH STUNNINGSTELLARAWESOME
/capslockabucse
AHMAGAWD. I just adore Vipin kdjksdfjs;fj
Aspen is freaking lol-worthy with her stunts.
I feel owned. 8U Vip and Asp = Major wins.
MOAR <3
MOAR <3
MOAR <3
WOAH MAN LAY OFF THE SUGAR
<3
YES FOR THAT MESSAGE IN GENERAL
I
SHALL WRITE MOAR.
Shoot! I didn't notice you