forum In Honor of Those Little Scenes

Started May 04, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

Edit topic

He flattened his back against the pillar, as did she. He didn't mind, but something quickly threw him off. The pillar was old, dusty, had endured a lot. Scratches made up its surface, he could see where the top of his head reached and where the top of hers reached.
"Wait… a-are you… taller than me?" He asked in befuddlement.
"Is your little superiority complex tumbling down?" She snorted.
"I-I'm just… surprised…"
"Don't complain too much."
"C-can you put your back against mine, for comparison's sake?"
"No."
"Wh-why not?!"
"Because that's idiotic, and you already know I'm taller. It would be utterly pointless."
"Will you do it just one second?" He begged.
She rolled her eyes, "…I don't have anything else to do…"
They pressed their backs against each other's, straightening their posture as much as they could. Rose was tempted to go on his tiptoes. He searched for a difference at the back of their head, feeling around each head of hair. It took little time to figure out a definite inequality in their level. She was taller than him, by a handful of centimeters.
"Are you, like, taller than everyone else where you live?"
"No, most of the people around me were in the six-foot range. I just wanted to be taller than someone for once in my life. Sorry if that sounds strange."
She put her hand down on his shoulder, "It's okay. One day you'll find someone who is shorter than you, and you can rejoice. But for now, you're stuck working with me."
He forced a smile, unsure whether the encouragement was sincere or not, "Er… thank you…?"
(Adding a time skip here because this is a rough draft and I don't want to waste time getting to the second part of this bit)
She approached the two of them, blade in hand.
"<Perhaps if you'd surrender yourself and your little friend we wouldn't be in this mess.>"
Rose looked at her, confused, "<A-are you talking to me?>"
English was not her first language, she was so frustrated that she switched to her first, which Rose happened to speak.
"" She pointed to Exi with the tip of her blood-stained blade. "What did she say about me?" Exi asked Rose. "That you are short." Exi frowned, clenched her fists for the fight, "What a rude thing to say." Rose smiled what he believed in his heart of hearts would be the smile to end all smiles on that day.

Life is one thing after another. It never waits. Time just keeps ticking, ticking, ticking, and never, ever waits. Tragedy, happiness, an all in one package. Unwanted moments and wanted moments. I can't believe these thoughts were going through my mind right now, as I soar to the ground, in a not-very-graceful way. In fact, I was falling. Falling, falling, falling. I had just barely spread my wings, my talons, my tail feathers, and there I was, black sheep of my nest, falling, falling, falling.
Perhaps it was for a reason? I mean, everything had a reason. In my nest, I was the weird hatchling. Always late. Late to hatch, to get up, to react. So maybe this was just natural selection. They weren't coming to save me, after all. I could see the cold, frosty ground, getting clos-
I freeze up as bronze talons clamp around me. They were much larger than me. So, this is how all it ends, doesn't it? Instead of falling to the ground, hitting it, and being eaten by the dangers lurking below, I was subject to a much larger predator; who seemed to be flying to the place where I was going to die - originally.

He lands.

I wasn't set down gently, but I rolled for a bit, shuddering at the cold I was exposed to, now. It was cold then, but now, I could really feel it. I shake my ears; they swivel as I turn to face the one who saved me - and perhaps, exposed me to a worse fate.
He looked above, not at me. But he had black fur and feathers. Well taken care of, unlike mine and my family. We had rough fur, while his looked..silkier. His eyes were golden and his pupils narrowed, but not the thin slits of an aggressive one. Just alert. I must've slightly moved, because he quickly stared at me, lowering his head as he sniffed me. Probably seeing my scent, seeing what type of meal I'd be..

"A silver one.." He whispered.

"What?"

"You'll have to do."

Do what? What's a silver one? Was he referring to my fur and feathers? I always assumed they were grey.

"Aren't you going to cannibalize me?"

His ears twitched, and he lifted himself away from me, looking up again. "Eat you? Why would I do something like the ones from the South? No. I'm taking you to the East."

East, South? What were all these directions?

"You can't fly yet, a shame, and not ideal, so I'll need to carry you. But the travel there is not long, and the advantages of the North are their long nights, so we should be good.." He thought out loud.

"I can hear you!"

He looked back at me, and I shrunk away. I noted the gold dots underneath his eyes. Five small ones.

"I'm going to hope you'll be willing about this, little one." He reached his hands out.

And that, that was when the music started; a single instrument, a violin by the sound of it. The sound started soft and sad, rising into the air in a soothing tune. As it seeped into the woman’s system, its healing melody found its way into the deepest parts of her pain, the tortured feelings yielding their spaces to the purity of these notes. Ideas, feelings, guilty regrets, all poured out of her in a melee of darkness that let itself be carried away by the caress of music. Chord after crystalline chord, suspended in graceful eddies of sound, vibrating with the echo of the pain that had burrowed into her soul as the music welled up from soft to raw and unbridled. It swelled and heaved enough to fill the room with its anguish, breaking open the heart of this woman in a strident spiralling crescendo. Swirling around both figures in the room, the woman let her worst fears float up and away as the violin slowed, giving way to light and peace of mind.

Look at this gem I found and wrote in a document to show everyone.
https://www.notebook.ai/documents/89329

Put into spoiler for explicit descriptions of domestic violence, lack of consent, and implied nsfw. Please don't read this if you'd be triggered by it, stay safe guys!

First paragraph:

Second paragraph:

Third paragraph:

Ayla stood at the head of the table, Carrie by her side.
"All the pages," she said, her voice hollow. "All the pages stationed at the right wing's doors are gone."
"A regrettable mistake," Rowan replied, his hands clasped behind his stiff back.
"No, I don't believe so," Ayla said, her gaze drifting upwards to meet Queen Adalia's. Adalia gave a slight nod, and she continued.
"You were in charge of planning those defenses, were you not?" She asked, and Rowan's confidence faltered.
"I was, Siress, but-"
"And you just happened to leave the pages unattended? On the very day there happened to be an attack?" She pressed, stepping towards him.
"It was a mistake, like I said before."
"Bullshit," Carrie interjected.
"Rowan Tarn, look me in the eyes and tell me that their positioning was just a mistake, or I'll have Carrie cut your throat." An unexpected voice, powerful but hoarse, filled the room. Adalia stepped forward, glaring at Rowan.
"Your Majesty-"
"I agree with Miss Kitson," Adalia said, breaking her gaze with Rowan. "Kitson and Thorn will go to the right wing. Tarn, stay here. You and Sole will have hell to pay."

Gazing into the eyes of my old partner, I realize perhaps his death wasn’t as sweet as I anticipated.

Seeing into a darker, more real reflection of my own face did not bring feelings of bittersweet memories, but instead brought small waves of grief to the backs of my eyes.

Staring into those icy blue eyes, how they sunk into the skull of the reflection below me, only sent shivers down my spine. They gazed up blankly, fixating on a point in the sky I could not see with my live eyes. Though they were blank, they held much more promise than what I have ever seen on M’s face. He seemed free, now. He was always trapped under something, and we both knew the only release he had was death. We never shared this with each other, but we knew.

Would I let this control me? No, of course not. He is only my twin. I have more family than him, now.

However, as I assisted in the task of bringing his body to the car that would be taking him to his final destination, I couldn’t help wondering what would become of me in the future. Of course M’s loss is heavy, but we can replace him.

As I gently soothed a member of our detective force, I had to feel bad. That person was supposed to be me, after all. I had just lost my brother.

But it wasn’t. I hadn’t shed a tear. I was the strongest person I knew, and I still am. I must be, and I always had been as a kid.

Yet more people ironically cared for his grumpy ass more than me. As I sat in that seat of the car that would take me back to my home, I couldn’t help but smile.

I was free, too.

You are reading this, probably a few days after my death.

It is selfish to assume you went and scoped this out, as selfish as it is for me to plan my own death. After Xanthe passed away, I knew my own death was close. I was fortunate enough to scrape some time together to write a will.

Everyone knew me as the selfish boss who made everyone get something or another for him. It was impossible to change in how little time I had left, but honestly, I don’t think I want to change it. I quite like the different look. Just don’t spit on my grave.

Yet as I sit here with a drink in my hand, I can’t help but sigh. This life was fun, but it will be better without me in it.

As I was told by a close friend before, I think I belonged somewhere else. Somewhere… without publicity. Perhaps they were suggesting a mental facility, or a prison. I think the latter was made for people like me?

anyway i dont really know what else to say. i kind of dont want to be here anymore. im ready to go. im ready to leave forever. i wished i could help more than i did.

enough preamble. my life was eventful yet it was painful to live. i hated every second of it and its all my fault. i didnt have to live it, im just a fucking pussy. dont be a pussy like me. whats the use if youre just going to be nothing, just a memory on some stupid stone or if your lucky, a pice of paper.

its all pointless but–

The rest was blotched out from a stain of ink.

Neo inhaled slowly, setting down the piece of paper in front of M’s former attorney. “Wow, okay. Why the hell did you let me read that?” He sat down slowly in a lush seat in his own office, sighing softly.

M’s attorney mimed Neo’s action except in a less expensive, typical waiting chair across from the King. “He asked me to give that to you. Something about ‘blame’ and ‘warning’. He was pretty hungover when he handed it to me, but I dunno. I was paid, so…” The man shrugged with a shifty grin to try to offset the mood. “Anyhow, we’re giving the money from his bank account to his children. His husband didn’t sign a prenup, and M didn’t leave anything to him that we know of, so Mr. Whembrooke will not be getting anything.”

“Well, damn, M wouldn’t have wanted that,” Neo protested without much care in his lofty, deep voice. He crossed his fingers neatly over his stomach, calmly watching the attorney squirm.

“It’s just what we were advised to do, er… sir.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just leave. Do whatever you think is right and nice and legal.” Neo stood, smiling as bitterly as possible to the smaller man beneath him. “You’re just a small ant, anyway. Thanks for dealing with such a big problem.” He chuckled and turned on his heel weaving his way out of his office, smiling to himself.

I think I can start.

I just found this buried in my documents and wanted to cry. I don't think any of you will because you don't know all of what these characters went through together.

In the endless lands known as the Wastelands, you could easily get back-stabbed or eaten by mutated crocodiles. Supplies were sparse, and people would lose lives over trying to get them. Such was the life of the Wastelander. Even the Survivors, who ran a maze as entertainment for the rich and powerful 'Rockies' could admit Wasterlander life was much, much harder.

A single piece of green grass. Growing, on the dry lands. And- oh, it's gone. Gone, as it was crushed by a wheel of the vehicles that provide transportation to the Wastelanders. Transportation that they stole, or perhaps built themselves. What is occurring, anyways?

The engine roared as the modified jeep sped up next to a supply train. Stealing from trains owned by the Rockies was hard and risky, but the loot earned from it was great. Still, when one vehicle showed up, the rest were soon to follow, like a pack of hyenas fighting for prey. Bold of you to assume they'd share - after all, it is in human nature, when starved and backed into a corner, they will do anything to survive. And all of the other 'hyenas' came over the horizon, preparing their supplies.
And then the first shot rung out.

The 'Gulls' faction, in their small motor vehicles wanted this crate. And they would get it. Or perhaps not. The unwary Gulls were flung from their bikes or; unluckily so, ended up under the wheels of a bus. The rest continued on, not even going back for their fallen members. Bullets collided and flew past eachother, striking the hard armour of the bus, but the inhabitants inside were unharmed.
The rest of them; the Firebirds, Dust Devils, Wolves, and various other factions or loners each flung weapons at eachother, firing guns and throwing crudely made spears.

But no one could be prepared for the shout that erupted. Some couldn't hear it, but drove away anyways when they realized something wasn't wrong. Others really, really wanted this loot.

"WORM!"

At the shout, you could see the panic as all the wastelanders separated in hopes of escaping what was about to happen. Some unlucky fellows crashed into eachother, others got away. But as an earthquake occurred; no, it was no earthquake. It was the apex predator of the wastelands. The ground behind the train and remaining vehicles seemed to fall in, some of the wastelanders taking the hint while others were not so lucky.

A large creature exited the ground, thick sandy hide and powerful mandibles opening as it roared; the Worm fell to the ground, seemingly disturbed by the commotion above ground as it began to destroy the remainders. And then, it shot forwards, taking the back of the train in the massive jaws of its, and lifted itself up. The train - an air train, now, was lifted up with it, and fleeing wastelanders would watch as the loot they strived for fell into the maws of the Worm, never to be seen again. The Worm; tired of this train, swung its upper body and threw the train with great force - away it goes. Perhaps the remains of the train would serve as shelter for someone else. With that done and over with, the Worm decided not to bother with the wastelanders. They were like ants to the Worm; not worth it. The Worm dove back into the dry earth, loud rumbles becoming distant as it headed back to its rocky home.

It seems the Wastelanders were not at luck this time.

((A little something from a currently unnamed project of mine.))

"Fledglings like you have no place in the nest," her words were like venom to an open wound. I probably should not have pestered her further - but I was foolish, so I opened my mouth.
"My wings, Overseer, my wings! They're much larger than all the other fledglings, why can't I join them? Even, the other apprentices?"
Her eyes hardened. "You are a fledgling as I said. Barely out of the nest. You lack the experience, and the patience. You will not go very far in life with your words, Neira."
The threads that contained my rage were at their final moments. Even Brawn would not have dared to attack an Overseer, yet here I was, wings opened, and with a screech, I'd prepared my talons to pluck out her eyes; one of the greatest injures I could've brought upon anyone. And yet, they never hit. Instead, I was there, dangling upside down. I struggled as she spoke again.
"I expected better of you, Neira. Yet I suppose Children of Blood do not change." She clicks her tongue. "An eye for an eye, Neira. The Court will decide your fate."

Oof I just found this thing I wrote inspired by a theory from a musical

“NOBODY SHOOT!” I shrieked into the field. “NOBODY FUCKING SHOOT!”
Elias shot. Every sound died down. Abby gasped and sank to her knees. I took a step forward.
I stared down at her trembling, bleeding body. I wanted to kneel down, to hold her to me, to wipe away her tears and whisper to her that she would heal, that we would take her back and she would be fine. I wanted to stay by her side, cradle her and hug her and stroke her hair and be gentle with this dying girl that lay at my feet. I would cry for her, I would remember every moment we’d had in the past and it would be free, it would be love. And when her eyes shut, I would scream a terrible scream, and hold her tighter. I would bury my face in her soft hair and I would collapse into myself and my impossible grief would be shown to the world.
And yet I couldn’t. I was obliged to stare blankly when her broken eyes looked up, pleading for a last moment of affection. I didn’t move a muscle. I was another spectator as she bled to death in the dirt, face contorting in both physical and mental pain. Her eyes shut.
And inside, I was screaming, sobbing, bawling, shrieking… I was true. I was thinking I had been trained for physical pain; I was practically immune to it. But this was like I had never known, agony stronger than the wound caused by a blunt, salted knife in swollen flesh.
And yet to the world, I was as always. A soldier first and foremost.

Good.

At last, the preparations were complete, and Edek was sure that he was alone. He walked to the clearing, kneeling onto the warm, soft dirt, and using a single finger to trace a pattern in the dirt. It looked like just a random mark in the ground, about the size of a dinner plate when done. But to Apprentices like Edek, they were symbols, the key to summoning a spirit.

..Although, Edek was a fairly new apprentice, and he shouldn't be out here, alone and summoning spirits. Typically, someone supervised from a distance during rituals of this sort.

Edek had drawn the symbol of fog. Fog spirits were known to be cunning, sometimes tricksters, other times guides. Or just hunters, looking for prey. Luckily, Edek was aware of the spirit he wanted to summon. Vh'ijha.

He had summoned this spirit a few days ago, though had not known the name of it. After some research, he found a description that matched it, and it turned out to be Vh'ijha. Before the summon had not gone so well, with Vh'ijha clearly being unimpressed, and leaving immediately. Now, the fog spirit would surely be impressed when it would know Edek found and knew its name, right?

"Vh'ijha, I call you to this realm to aid me in my practice. Thank you."

The symbol seemed to glow, and there was a bright light, before a fog rose up, seemingly from nowhere. Edek watched in interest, holding his ground when he spotted the spirit's tendrils rise from seemingly the 'ground', pulling out a serpentine like creature, with several tendrils that seemed to flow behind it. It had a ghost like look to it. Vh'ijha. It swirled around as Edek bowed to it.

"Vh'ijha, thank you for arriving. Thank you fo-"

The spirit lashed out, revealing a mask like face. Although, most spirits had these faces, when out in the Earth Realm. Vh'ijha hissed, and Edek got up, careful not to make eye contact with it.

"You dare summon me again, and even refer to me by my name? You, a mere human, an apprentice? You stray from the safety of your towns, of your people, and venture out into the fog, where you do not belong. And when something not Vh'ijha comes up behind you, you have nothing to defend yourself with! You are like a child, a wisp! Doing whatever you want, expecting no consequences? And you even bring no offering? Fool!"

Edek lowered his gaze, but it seemed the spirit had even more to say.

"You tread dangerous waters. On thin ice. Lucky it is just I here, someone else would have left you with a curse." Vh'ijha snorted. "Do not summon Vh'ijha until you have progressed further."

With that said, the spirit flew into the air, diving back down, and vanishing into the ground. The symbol, like that, ceased in glowing. Edek did not know what to think of this spirit, the words he'd been told just now.

But even a trickster spirit knew not to lie about such matters like this.

I like this.

little messy base to a poem
Spiral
Subtle, smooth
Until the block in the road
And comes then the trap
Loves me, loves me not
Likes me, not a lot
Open up and speak
Until a quiet thought screams
For is a girl who cries wolf
Deserving of help
Possibly, or not
Up and over goes the thought
Will the dam hold longer
Or will it flow out
Though they smile
They shout LOVE
You’re alone, are you not?
Maybe not alone
But isolated
Lost on the road
Along the loop
Alone, not alone
Stuck
In the Spiral

“Look,” he said.
He held out both of his hands, palms out, and slowly lifted them up. Soàki looked around, disguising his amazement, but he heard Ashley inhale next to him. All around the room which had been crowded before stretched hundreds of multicolored strings like decorations made of yarn had been over enthusiastically strung over the place. They were all glowing slightly and melted into different colors. So continuously it was hard to tell them apart. Each one was attached to someone in the room and many attached the gods to each other, as well as stretching out of the room into the night outside.
“These,” Gaiesh said, are the threads of destiny.”
He snatched one out of the air, the colors bringing a little bit of light to his gaunt face, his bitter looking eyes reflecting their brightness.
“This,” he said, wrapping it around his hand, the string loosening under his touch, “is what controls you all.” His eyes flickered between the different colors. “All your life is written here,” he said softly. “For those who can see it. If I wished I could see what your life is tomorrow. Or,” he said looking directly at Ashley, I could tell you when you die”
To her credit Ashley didn’t back down. “Interesting,” she said disinterestedly.
Gaiesh smiled and released the string, and with a wave of his hand the room returned to normal, the gods danced on, not noticing what had occurred. “Indeed,” he said, and something gone too fast for Soáki to see it flashed on his face. “Indeed it is.”

~Gods of Brooklyn