Diary Entry

Apparanza's picture

{||:.+The Diary of Friiha+.:||}

This is where I'll be putting links to all of Friiha's diary entries, so I can have them gathered together in one neat place. I also hope it'll make it tons easier for those who would like to follow her writings, so they won't miss it in the blog categories C:

Sonata's picture

GUYS HEY GUYS GUYS I FIXED IT

I CAN GET IN FOREST AGAIN
Tuhka's picture

Huhohascreenies again.

Yeeeah.


Someone wanted to block guy love.


*insert Titanic music here*


One isn't enough for Null so he flirts two at the same time.


Love traiiiin~


Harsh ninja training in the rain! *epic music here*
-jaw kicked-


I'm so proud of you Leara, hiding behind your man and daughter. So proud...


Quamar and Walter's kisses are extreme.


Other guy: *does ninja moves he just googled*
Quam: *not that impressed*


Dag: Ack! D8< *jumps aside from the way of high speed moving Quammy torpedo*


It happens. Yes, it's embarrassing to get stuck in between two trees and leaves you totally vulnerable for Virgils.


Q&V: *inspecting their belly buttons*


V: Your belly button is awesome. *rubs it*
Q: Hoohohe-! : D


Quam: Lawl panties. Hohoho.
KingEnvy's picture

A Snake's Revenge

Warning, Auto-play Music

Seed's picture

The Diary of Seed, 3-21-10

[=#006400]
The fog is wonderful and horrible. The fog is evewhere, thick and white. It supplants the air we breathe -- we take in great breaths of mist, our lungs filling with half-formed water. We hear the howling of invisible beasts, foriegn things hanging around the edge of the forest, unable to enter, but unwilling to leave. They shake us in our bones, when we fear something, they become that fear.
But the fog drives us close to one another, blinds us to old grudges, when the light of our pictograms is so bright against the fog as to be meaningless. It is a great cloud, and it makes the world unknown -- it makes it marvelous and strange, something dying like the blackened poppy blossoms, but alive again, hidden in the mist.

I awoke and found Sluggs and two others resting in the fog -- Sluggs alone I recognized by set. And, of course, by the fact that after a minute, he began his usual tricks. He hid himself in the earth, growing and dwindling when he arose to be seen. When he appeared, he'd be angled like he was about to shoot up in the air. Mostly, though, it was only the thin light of his pictogram, bursting forth from the earth like a seedling. We played around. Some tried to sit over the spot, while I tried to duck my head beneath the surface of the ground to see his face, to see the Sluggs I remember from when I was small, winking at me. I almost succeeded. Almost. After he went, I ran off to sleep, hidden in fog and willow branches.

Later, I awoke and found Nevilly in the gof, huddled beneath a tree. She was shivering like a baby bird, jumping at the sound of the wolf-calls. She offered me a nervous smile as I approached, and rushed to my side. I could feel the shaking of her body when she stood next to me. She was so happy to see me, confident that I could find some way to make her feel safe -- and, to my surprise, I did. She makes me feel better than I am -- somehow gentler and stronger all at once, wiser and more noble, so much more pure.
Hubalaboo's picture

!


Something good happened today.

I appreciate the attention, but...

Hello everyone. This is Blixt, just with a little public service announcement about etiquette in the Forest.

As you may be aware, there are special masks that the Twin Gods give out to random deer - the luchador masks. I was given one of them when I was first brought to the Endless Forest, and as it is special, I would kindly ask that you treat me just like anyone else in the Forest. I did not ask for the mask, but I hang onto it because it was a gift from the Gods.

Therefore, if you see me sitting somewhere and you want me to play with you, please just bow once. If I do not respond (I.E. my real hands are not on the keyboard [such as if I were eating lunch or talking to someone in the room]), please do not be angry at me. Just kindly walk away and find someone else to play with. Sitting next to me is perfectly fine, but if I don't respond, then don't be angry with me.

I do not appreciate being pestered when I am trying to relax. It is rude to me (and the real me too) when someone acts angry with me because I do not stand up and bow to them. Again, if you are only pestering me because of my mask, please do not and please find someone else to play with.

I understand the fog makes many of you act differently than you normally would. I would ask that you try to be respectful even when conditions are like this. It is understandable that the fog makes it hard to see others, but that does not mean that you have to act without etiquette.

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to meeting you in the Forest.

- Blixt
Verycrazygirl's picture

Daytrip Photos~! [Image heavy!]

Where: Saint Albans - Hertfordshire

Notable Wildlife Sightings:
Three hunting Red Kites and a Heron in the same field!
Kaoori's picture

Fog [short story]

Last night I fell into a restless sleep. It has been some time since we have had fog this thick, this heavy. It’s lingered for so long. I was glad for the company of my mate, my son, and my son’s new friend. After the events of the evening, it was hard for me to let myself relax. But with Wesker around, I soon found my eyelids drooping, and sleep finally finding its way to me… and I welcomed it as best I could.
------

I do not remember much of myself as a fawn before I came here. I don’t know if it is because my mind wishes it that way, or if it was because I was simply much too young. But every now and then, fragments of those times pop up into my mind…usually when I am sleeping. They take me to those days which I would rather forget..
Mountains were my home. Tall mountains with thousands of trees that seemed to stretch on forever. It was here that I opened my eyes for the first time. Winter was long here, but it was worth it for the summers. At least, that is what I heard from others in the herd I was born to. It was a small herd, mostly made up of does. Then there was my father.
Nowhere near as large as, well, say, Wesker, Sir Iaurdagnaire, or even Virgil.. But from where I came from, he was a formidable foe. He had survived many battles of the rut and battles for his life, and he had scars on his flank to prove it. He was not a kind stag. He didn’t have to be kind; that was not his role in life. He simply needed to make sure his fawns he fathered would make it to the next year. And that his does were not harmed.
I do remember the day he looked at me. With total disgust. My fur, my pelt, had never been the same color since the beginning; a bluish tint from the start. I, of course, smiled at him. I didn’t know any better. And then, his first words to me:

“Get it out of my sight.”

-----
For whatever strange reason in the next few weeks, my mother did not abandon me, although my father pressed, almost threatened her to.
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