Writing

Elise's picture

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    An Introduction

    He sat, watching the sun rise.
    He was alone. All alone, to savour the pastel shades of red, orange, pink as they illuminated the sky.

    A thin smile was present on his lips.

    He inhaled the crisp morning air and started humming a tune. It was slow and soft. The notes seemed to linger in the air for a split-second before being caught by the wind and whisked away.

    That was what made his voice so special. Not that he had ever sung for anyone except himself. Well, maybe once or twice during his chilhood, but that was superficial singing- within everyone's reach. His voice was something else- it was beyond the standards of our natural world, had a touch that made it completely different from anything else.

    Not that he thought so himself- not at all. His singing was something he kept to himself, to be used in a certain context. Maybe he knew his voice was different from others ?
    But he would never had had a clue how beautiful and unique it was.

    Whenever he met someone or saw something that affected him, a melody formed in his head, despite himself. All that was left to do was hum it discreetly, and secretly marvel at it. His tunes also helped him understand how he felt about things, when he was not so sure himself.

    He paused, and again started humming his sunrise song.
Shiori's picture

Before the Chrysalis [ch.3]

Chapter One
Chapter Two

~________-----------Ch. 3----------________~

[=#EECBAD]
Hours ticked by and the sky grew dark. Such a warm, beautiful summer night. The fireflies flashed their lights as they floated between the trees, dancing to cricket song. A monarch-pelted youth remained curled in the underbrush, alone still and long past drifted off. It was a fit -less sleep, for once, exhaustion taking hold of the young one like never before. So much emotion to experience in one day…if he were at all conscious he’d have been thankful it had kept out of his slumber. Alas, he didn’t stir, his body reveling in the secluded comfort of his current state of being, stretching it for as long as it would last.

Someone was watching him.

A stag stood not far off, eyeing the youngster through the grass. His stocky, impressive frame was silhouetted in the darkness, his dark pelt blending perfectly with the night if not for the streaks of gold running across this back, drawing the moonlight. His eyes matched them, a brilliant golden amber that glowed as brightly as the fireflies that flitted around him. One had to peer closely to tell the difference. They held a darkness too them - a hardness, perhaps- but also curiosity. After several moments of stillness, the buck moved forward, daring to come closer to the sleeping adolescent . So innocent…and so small! This was what was meant to replace him? As amusing as the thought was, it brought him neither satisfaction or the smallest of smiles - only pity. So vulnerable, and out so deep. It would be so easy to end the boy’s life right then. So easy to save him…

He was within feet of the sleeping youth when his head sprung up and ears pricked forward. He stared into the distance, following a small noise in the leaf litter to its source.
Rakkaus's picture

In the tall grass {rp - opened?}

Oh boy. Okay, thought I'd try this. Been a while since I just jumped into a rp thread that wasn't set up and whatnot. Going a bit old school for the heck of it. <3 This is open to anyone who'd like to do a bit of interaction with Rakkaus. (If anyone was curious to have something with Rovaniemi, lemme know)
Latte's picture

The Death Deer

The deer of the Endless Forest cowered beneath the bushes and trees around them, does huddled their fawns closer to them hushing them to be silent as she listened.
All the deer of the forest shared the same fear, it was time for Death to claim yet another life.
There was a loud bang and a stag let out a call of alarm, darting from his hiding place and out into the open. Death heard. Death saw.
The chase began.
The huge monstorous stag gave chase to the small one. Its hooves thundered along the ground trembling the bones of fawns and the jaw of its skull mask rattled with each almighty bound. Death was nearing its victim. The frightened stag rushed around the corner, pursued by Death. Then there was a cry of pain and a sickening squelching sound of antlers plunging deep into flesh.
Thick red blood spilled upon the grass around the dead stag, its face frozen in a horrorfied scream.

Not far off Death was standing on a rock. The moonlight parted from the trees and shone down on him, casting an eerie glow. Even if you were far away you could pick out every detail.
His hooves were as black as coal and had spikes jutting from around the ankle. His pelt was black but torn in some places , revealing pink flesh and white bones. His back was covered in a long cloak of many different colours that flowed down to his knees and partly covered that huge bushy black tail. If you looked even closer you could see that the colours making up the cloak were different deer pelts: some green and scaly, some black and white like an orca's pattern, some torn, some scarred and some stained with red blood. They were stitched together with some invisible lining, blending together as one design.
Around his throat Death wore a necklace, a bit of chewed up rope with deer hooves hanging off of it. One was small as a fawns and one was as big as a stag's; all of them were cracked and bloody.
quadraptor's picture

Let your soul soar...

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies,
Fairy tales of yesterday, will grow but never die,
I can fly, my friends!"
- Queen, The Show Must Go On

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Allow yourself to be free.

Just let go.

Let your soul soar.


The voice echoed in Luis' mind. Who was speaking to him? What were they talking about?

The stag at first ignored the voice, but little by little, it intrigued him.

"How? How do I be free?", he asked the voice.

It's easy. Look deep into your soul.

Luis tilted his head. "Huh? How do I..."

Fly, Luis! Fly!

And if it was triggered, Luis felt his back sprout great wings - monarch butterfly wings! They were absolutely huge, and even he was astounded that he had sprouted them.

Fly!

The wings flapped quickly, and the deer lifted off. He soared into the air, passing the Forest canopy and climbing high into the sky. He soon flew through the clouds, and hovering above them, he saw something in the horizon.

"I thought that was you.", Luis said to the figure.

There, floating with four great angel wings, was Quad. He smiled when he saw his fellow deer there, "See? Freedom feels good doesn't it?"

"Quad, how did you...?", Luis asked, but he couldn't finish the question. "I didn't do it. You did. You believed in yourself, and that's how you got the wings.", Quad said, and then continued, "Your wings reflect your soul...and your soul is beautiful, Luis."


----------------------------------------

Luis awoke, back on the ground. He looked to his back - the wings were gone, but instead sat a monarch butterfly who had rested on his body.

The butterfly, disturbed from his awakening, began to fly and circle around him. Luis smiled.

"Fly away, my friend. Be free."
Shulgalaj's picture

And I shall spam this place with my poetry

The uprising of Hell

The message of war is now whispered
An uprising is being planned
A few more days all will be peaceful
After it you will be crushed and rammed

Here is now the day of cleansing
Preparations for war is to start
Here is now the day of sunlight
War is painted on the one to tear you apart

Here is now the day of the moonlight
The cold stillness and resting seduce you
To believe there exists no more threat
But truth is; destruction will be here soon

Here is now the day of bravery
Preparations are now almost done
Hatred is glowing and now we are strong
We know that the fight is to come

This is the great day of Odin
The last day of peace this will be
This is the last preparation
But what it is you will not see

And this is the day of Thunder and rage
To suffer it is now your turn
We will bring Hell to your house
This night the sky itself will burn

We open the fiery gates of Hell
We lit the black fires in our hearts
Satan stands by us in this great war
Upon your lies we start a slaughter done well

Burn!

Burn!

Burn!

Burn!

Burn!


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More of the same
Shulgalaj's picture

The mist (scary poetry)

The Mist


The mist so thick,
glistening yet gray,
making the sky so pale.
It's crawling up the fields,
like a creature from a cave,
it rolls towards us, slowly, slowly.
From the sea it came,
from the blackest water of lakes,
the Hell in a filthy puddle.
It moves onto us with a stench of salt,
with a scent of pain,
with a feeling of hopelessness.
The shriek of a dying bird,
the whisper of a sickness' lips,
the sound of being destined to a life of misery,
it comes with the fog,
heavily sinking from the sky.

By Shulgalaj

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More of the same
Shulgalaj's picture

Poetry stuff. Things. Poems. Kind of. Heh...



My writings... poems... whatever.

Please care to comment somewhere I can read it. By the way not all of these have any real names or anything. (the newest ones are the last in the list)

The tear in the river (the first one I submitted)

Something about gold

The Swan

Something about the existence

Shulgie is a poser (Oh, the rain)

The Mist

The Uprising of Hell

Path of the past

The Sound Of A Something

The Kind-Hearted Tree

Dark Tunnel

Until spring returns

A study of Death
Alecsander's picture

Disappointment [Finata]

He didn't see it coming. How could he have?
Lord Alastair was one of his few friends. He was quiet, reserved, and never raised a point to another being. At least, that is what Finata once believed.

Sonata's picture

Once upon a masquerade

((Sorry I've been gone guys, love you all, just been distracted. Anyway, have some human!Chopin
))

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