how can I go on, from day to day?
who can make me strong in every way?
where can I be safe, where can I belong...?
how can I forget, those beautiful dreams that we shared?
they're lost and they're nowhere to be found...
Books are wonderful things aren't they? They can be anything that man has created, in mind, heart, or concept. This is my book. The Book of Riven. Within it contains all the lore that I have observed with Riven wandering in the Forest. Rivenlore. That is my name here, and I am content with this.
The pretense for discovery is observation and notation. Having seen the Forest from afar many times gave me some expectations of its verdant secrets. Only time will tell if they are true. My curiosity treads lightly, as a deer.
It is noted that the Forest is something entirely new to me, relying more on the Herd and its interactions then the Forest itself. The trees muse, the rocks mumble, and the waters murmur - whispers of Twin Gods reach my ears, and so, my page. My quill quivers, can this really be? How extraordinary to see the work of gods before my very eyes! I anticipate Their Coming with bated breath, as does my Book.
Being this close to the Herd is unnerving to me, what do I do? How can I say what I mean to say? It is a terrifying, yet enthralling concept - one that I suspect I will spend much of my time dealing with. It is clear to me the Forest is not a place for the trifling concept of objectivity, and so I feel very much out of my element here. Everything is worth trying once, if only for the sake of it, but can I untrain my mind to understand what I see? I almost feel this opportunity is spoiled on me.
The Forest is so alien to the Main Stream from which I came...I wonder if it is something that can be visited with on end, frolicking in the timeless wood til dusk, dawn and there again. Or perhaps it is something to simply be savored on a rainy day; taking shelter in the emerald boughs as the animals do when Man gives little hope of peace? I remember there is no objective here, and I will have to discover this for myself.
From here on I shall catalog my efforts carefully - perhaps it shall be a notary for some traveler not unlike myself. Perhaps it will be as a birth-book, with smiles, stories and memories. Or perhaps a tragedy, a story of pure intentions gone awry in the midst of confusion - the whisper of leaves the throat of madness itself? Books are wonderful things aren't they?
This is my Book, and so I go forth - my curiosity treads lightly, as a deer.
I was just wondering, if you try to change you're display name it errors when you post...
Aaaand I noticed that Sonata changed to Vandetta and EternalWanderer have change it too(I don't remember what from xD)
How do you do it?
A little vent writing inspired by an old Asia song I used to love listening to back when I was obsessed with them.
You open your eyes. You've never seen this place before, sitting up you find yourself on a stone bench in a maze. The walls are old brick, vines and ivy hanging from them. They are very high up, there would be no way to climb up to get a better look around. You see the sky is clear, the air feels crisp like it's morning. You have plenty of daylight to find your way out of this labyrinth.
You start walking down the long pathways. You think you have a sense of direction, but you find a dead end and turn around, retracing your steps as best you can. You walk down another pathway, thinking you're going to find the way out, but you discover the bench you had started at. You realize that you haven't gotten anywhere.
There is something sitting on the bench - an old photo. You must have missed it when you first got up, and picking it up, you see that it is you a few years ago. You were confident, eager to live, ready for any challenge.
What happened? Have you lose that drive?
You put the photo in your pocket and turn around, going back the way you came. You take a different turn this time, following the old pathways, looking for any sign of the exit. You soon find the same bench again, with another photo of yourself. You remember that day all to well...
...something terrible happened that day. You turn your head, you don't want to look at it.
She's already mated off, and plans to stay that way. Her heart goes to Scape. <3
Estrogen: Normal
Scent: Weak
Mar Sart -
More or less ignoring the rut completely. His heart is already spoken for, by Aegle. <3
Testosterone: Normal
Scent: Normal
Driftwood, Tiralarc, Nightgale -
Inactive.
Spill Heartless -
Not participating in the rut, but is quite aggressive.
Testosterone: OMG DON'T GO THERE. D8
Scent: FRIGGIN DARNED STRONG.
Darkweaver -
He had his final rut last year. Content to stay at Laghodessa's grave.
Testosterone: Normal
Scent: Like old man and decay.
Laghodessa -
Dead. Lol.
Archelius -
Not in the rut, but you may treat him as if he is. He does carry the scent of rutting, and will engage in behaviors typically seen. Free to spar.
Testosterone: High
Scent: Strong
Saix -
Not interested. At all. In fact, he's trying to wait it out in whatever manner he can. (Whether it be fighting persuers off, attacking trees, or hiding in the blue bowl.) However, he's not quite himself, and may randomly flirt with random stags or does if bothered too much, and violence doesn't work.
However, due to the presence of a full moon so close to the time of the rut, and being more instinctive due to his berserk + nobody-instinct, he is extremely aggressive and will spar with anyone who requests a fight. He is also more protective of certain individuals such as Vivian.
Feel free to interract with him as if he were in the rut, but expect the above.
Mainly will be inclined to stay around the other nobodies.
Testosterone: :| High enough to accept all fights.
Scent: None
Neurotoxin -
She's part machine and thus not interested. She carries the scent of rut, but will not be woo'ed.
[=10]I've had this in a notebook for a while now and was shy to type it up because I never really proofread it or anything, so... ;; I guess I'll do that after I post it because I'm weird like that LOLOL. ALSO sorry about the formatting; I wrote it on Notepad.
Anyway, just a really bizarre... no-sense intro on Sort, idk xD I was just bored in math so I started jotting things down that turned into this. <3 Sorry if there's run-ons or spelling errors or whatever. D> Not to keen on making this perfect because I'm not so good a routine writer as I am an artist. It's loose and has no plot and the descriptions emotion and dialogue all suck and--LOL OH WELL have fun.
--
A blur.
White...
Like some newborn child being awakened by opening, blue rose pedals, his eyes
opened: eyelids drawing back as beautifully as the pearl-esque shell on hatching
eggs. A slate hue like the color of the ocean blended with metal-stroked, ebony
pupils--cold, confused, and timid with bewilderment.
Why was everything so bright? Where was he? And what was he doing there...? Or
how...
Who was he?
"Mr. Sortsand? Are you awake?"
That was an odd name. It seemed foreign yet recognizable to him, but not at all
like something he was to respond to. It wasn't his. Or, if it was, this young male
had not a sliver of a clue that it really was.
He responded anyhow purely out of old instinct by turning his head. This confirmed
his placement on a bed and pillow--and they were both stiffened thin, at that.
The one that had questioned the other was a well-polished individual wearing some
too-bright robe of--of course--white. To be plain, the entire room was white.
Heaven?
"How do you feel?" No response. Instead, the doctor put a hand to a heavily-bandaged
forehead half covered with black bangs.
