|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Apr 15, 2005 7:01 pm
Utopia
Deep within the colony's cavernous tunnels lived millions: digging, crawling, feeding, and surviving off of the earthen mire that surrounds them. Yet, none of them looked any different. None of them were out of line. None of them worked slower, nay faster. All of them were the same. All of them were as one.
1215 marched back and forth and back and forth again, from the large opening of the cavernous tunnels to the outskirts of the canyon, keeping a sharp eye open for any intruders in its vicinity. The light was dimming and the darktime dwellers would start to arrive. He quickened his pace.
Suddenly, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye, and sped to pursue it. However, it was only another scout. A little shaken he hurried back and resumed his post. He finished his rounds and headed back to the entrance, where he was caught in the flurry of traffic that constantly flows from the tunnel's entrance.
In total darkness, he made his way to his room, taking every turn by memory. Left, left, straight, right, bank right, go up, left, straight; it was his daily routine. He had taken this path ever since he had come of age, ever since Mother had chosen him as a colony scout.
1215 rested a bit in his dormitory room, scanning each and every resident as they past. There's 214; he's reaching his death-point. There goes 2435; how fast he's grown. After some time, though, he started toward the mess hall. The familiar smells, sounds, and sights; they all seem so familiar in his mind, as if they were always there.
A thunderous rumble reverberated through the earthen walls, sending a chill through his whole body. He scurries out at once, and headed towards the entrance. Another thunderous rumble followed, and the cavern shook again. Soon, the ground quaked from the hard drum-like beating that constantly pounded into his head. In the distance, he heard a roar.
WATER!!
He fled to the safety-shelters, and helped the others pile large pieces of rubble and dirt into the entrance. He heard the screams of others being washed away, but was unable to help them. It would mean certain death for them all if he went out to help. Cowering with the rest, he prayed that the waters would pass.
The roar diminished, the flood past, and they cleared the opening. 1215 crawled out to find the ground soaked and his feet stuck in the deep mud. Bloated, twisted corpses littered the land, and stray appendages jutted out of the ground like a field of tombstones. 1215 shook with rage and impotence against the unmerciful tide that had killed so many of his ilk.
However, life goes on, as he must also go on.
1215 heads back towards the entrance to begin his sacred duties.
Light began to make its journey over the canyon walls, and the darktime dwellers scurried back to the shadows. All in all, a pretty uneventful evening: a dweller here, a scavenger there. They had to confront a rather large dweller trying to overrun them, but they took care of it without too much effort. This night, they had only lost ninety-seven, not including the ones who drowned.
Just then, a wounded scout dragged himself across 1215, and fell before him. His dying message, "The Blackskin Army is heading this way, and their numbers are countless! They have merged all their colonies and crossed the Great Divide!! They're...headed...this...w-..." And with that, he died. His single remaining limb ceased to grasp the empty air around him.
1215 then heard Mother whisper in his mind, "Son, gather the scouts, and head towards the Forest. There you will fight, there here we will defend our home, and there you will most likely die."
1215 rallied the scouts and led them down past the Great Crevice, towards the Forest. There they saw The mighty Blackskin Army: twice their size, with armor that shone brightly, giant pincers, and helms of gruesome horns. For a split second, all stopped, and all stared at the black horde. Then the Blackskins marched towards 1215's position. He froze for a split second in which he saw his life before him, and then he summoned the last of his courage and charged towards the giant behemoths.
The scouts fought with rare honor, audacity, and courage, but they still fell before the mighty Blackskin horde. Eventually, the Blackskins carved a swath through the relentless scouts, and the fight was brought to the front of the tunnel's entrance. Soon, almost the entire colony was in an all-out battle for survival. All fought no matter their normal duties: gatherers, watchers, nurses, and even Mother's personal guardsmen.
1215 was the last scout standing, crawling onto the back of a Blackskin, tearing at his enemy's vulnerable spots. He lost track of how many he had killed when a giant Blackskin grabbed him by the waist. 1215 struggled with all his might, but to no avail. The Blackskin crushed his thorax in one massive claw and threw his dying body to the hard earth. 1215 thrashed his legs, tried to grasp the empty nothingness, and finally his mind slipped into the eternal sleep of death...
Mother sat there, a calm look on her face, and watched the fight commence through the eyes of her children. Her children laid dying by the hundreds of thousands. She felt the pain one each of their deaths, but deep inside, she knew she must continue to fight.
The opening to Mother's chamber erupted with Blackskins, and one of the Blackskins took a step forward, raised his head high, and came down upon Mother's abdomen, and crushed her between its pincer. In the instant before her death, she knew firsthand the pain and fear her children had faced.
A Utopia, lain to waste by competition and fate. And so came the demise of yet another lowly Anthill...
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 29, 2005 6:57 pm
Everything's in my fictionpress account. Here 'ya go.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2005 3:01 pm
I have yet, another story to tell!
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Joe and she posted on this thread about a story. The end.
Oh, how I love happy endings. heart biggrin
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2005 11:23 pm
Oh! Me next! Me next! *bounces* xd
A sorta test writing for a scene from my novel-in-progress, "Remembrance of the Blossom". It lacks proper editting... but here it is anyway! sweatdrop :
Macrae slowly closed his now heavy-feeling lids, sleep taking his mind swiftly despite the discomfort of the rope-net under the thin mattress of his hammock-cot and the cold of the night air upon his bare feet, his long legs making his warm cover and the cot itself too short so everything below his calves draped from the end.
Warmth?
Macrae slowly opened his eyes, the dark green orbs glistening in the sunlight as he stared up at the emptiness of the dark blue sky.
Sunlight? Was it morning already, and what of his tent?
The man sat up, the thick leather of his long-jacket rustling quietly as he looked about him, pale blue and pink petals sticking to the hair of his long ponytail.
He slowly scanned his surroundings, a field of gentle blues and delicate splashes of pink covering the ground, seeming as if almost a carpet until he noticed it was a field of flowers. Small yellow-white butterflies with black eyes upon rounded wings, of obviously Northern and foreign nativity, fluttered gracefully about him and amongst the blossoms, seeming filled with a rushed energy far different from the flamboyant and lazy souring of the butterflies of Ellorathian grasslands.
His gaze wandered further, admiring the deep emeralds of trees lining the horizon, and bluish and white tones of mountains lying in the distance, before movement caught the corner of his attention, his cranium twisting quickly, sending the petals falling lightly from their cling to his hair as the suddenly movement disturbed the light brown locks. A figure of a slender teenage girl was noticed, her back facing him as she was adorned in an elaborately embroidered velvet jacket of green and silver, with masses of layered green silks, held in a large shape by a petticoat, below the skirts of the coat. Shimmering raven hues spilled down in an inky smoothness to the ground, her hair seeming incredibly long and well groomed to mimic the length and quality only seen in fairy stories and picture books about the Sarnian nobles.
Behind this form was the corner of a large structure, rising three stories with elegantly arched windows of panelled glass and a fine facade of blue stucco and white marble bordering. Gildings taking the form of flowers and vines twined up faux columns and around window frames, sparkling pieces of furnishings and polished woods barely seen within these glasses openings.
Macrae stared in awe, "Not again... I thought this one had gone away finally..."
The dream had once too frequented his nightmares, such beauty yet such horrible dread and pain raging deep within his chest, the stinging in the scars on the right of his face and on his torso throbbing under his pale skin, "Why? Why doesn't she look at me? I... I can't remember her face... So important... so familiar... Why doesn't she turn around?"
The girl's head twitched slightly, her cranium turning ever so slightly to revile a delicate ear and the pale alabaster of a pampered cheek from behind the silken stands of hair. She seemed as if she had heard him, his whispered inquiries to himself breaking the silence and catching the mysterious figure's attention.
"Shall she turn? Can I finally see? Please..."
Macrae slowly raised his arm, long fingers stretching out towards the girl, trying to speak to her, maybe call, or beckon, yet not words came forth, only hushed whispered and strained gasps of breath. She remained in her stillness, long arms held before her as if clasping something at her front, her back turned to him as if almost in shyness or to ignore him.
The sounds of the wind rushed through the air, howling as a fluttering noise quickly joined it. The suddenly gust brushed across the ground, causing the fragile blossoms to sway and seemingly endless amounts of petals loosed by the early summer suddenly were lifted from the ground and thrown into the air, disturbing the butterflies in their dances as they floated upon the breezes. Pale hues of pink and blue contrasted on the navy colour of the above, seeming of an unreal state as they swirled around Macrae's startled form. The girl's hair picked up as well in this movement of the air, flowing as lightly and elegantly in the wind as a wisp of smoke from a lit matchstick.
Macrae tried to call again, his voice and breath completely lost now as the wind continued to pick up, growing more violent and loud as it howled through his ears. The petals now filled the sky like snow in the yearly blizzards, the man having trouble keeping his eyes from squinting and his long, uneven bangs whipped against his unshaven face, obscuring his view.
The howl of the gusts soon changed into a roaring sound, seeming violent as the cry of an inhuman beast or a wild Jurra, feelings of fear and horror washing over his innards in a terrifying pace. Clouds of darkest pitch rumbled across the sky, blotting out the sun and the sounds of wings and claw accompanied them, a dark shadow rushing across the field, swallowing up the sky, the palace, the girl, the flowers, the innocent butterflies, himself...
Macrae sat up in his cot with a loud shout of panic, beads of sweat running down his bared torso and face as the thick woollen cover fell from his form and collected in folds at his middle.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2005 11:38 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2005 9:09 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2005 10:44 am
I did this one just for fun on DeviantArt a few weeks ago. I've got about 9 chapters. It's short, but only because most people don't take the time to read longer stuff...so I made it short. If I ever get serious with it I'll make it longer, but for now I'll leave it alone.
The Seven Daemons
Chapter 1:
"How many were there?"
"Three men, sir."
"And they were headed?"
"The forest, sir, toward the domain belonging to Lord Oaks."
"Only three? They'll be dead before they leave a scratch."
"They'll not reach Oaks. Lady Silvani hates men with a passion."
"Ha! She will dine well tonight!"
"I don't doubt it, sir."
"Very well, Flash, thank you for the report. Dismissed!"
I watched as the man clothed in black bowed to me and left my room, his cloak billowing out behind him, his kryss, blessed with the lightning of the Gods, sheathed and hanging by his side. That man is a danger to all of us, but too powerful of an ally to refuse. His skill with a sword is impeccable, and he was blessed with the art of magic.
Lord Flash...
It was a name all knew now.
It had not been for always, however. He used to be invisible, ignored, unaware of his own power. He was naught but a child, with nothing to boast except the fact that he had matured a little faster than the rest.
He joined the Seven Daemons of Kimone when he was just thirteen, a scraggly teenager on the streets. Friends? He had none. Family? He didn't even know if he had one. Love? He said he didn't have time for it.
Flash...he'd always had to look out for himself. He could remember back to when he opened his eyes and found himself alone in Britain. His memory was blank, his surroundings unfamiliar. He was at the tender age of four when that happened, armed with nothing but a small wooden sword and tattered clothing.
We all saw him when he was a boy. His hair was long and dark, his eyes the color of night, his spirit strong. He had a weak physique, and he always looked as if he hadn't eaten a square meal in days. He'd always go out to hunt two times a day, and I was always surprised to see him come back, his kill on his shoulders, a triumphant light in his eyes. There was too much danger in the woods, and most children would die at the hands of them.
Somehow, this child managed to survive.
Nobody who knew him now had any idea he was that little boy who used to pace around the Western Bank in Britain, a place of business and relaxation for the people, rich or poor. It was crowded, yes, but we could always find a spot to show off our fine horses and talk about the news of the day. We often boasted about our last good fight, and we ridiculed the people who thought themselves to be the best on the battlefield.
These young brats have no idea what it is like.
Flash was different.
He knew battle. He wasn't good in performance, but he knew the teachnique, the dangers, and the rewards.
I still remember when he first joined SDK, which was our guild's abbreviation. We were getting ready to go to the caves and wage another battle with Barracoon the Piper, the prince with endless rats at his call. Flash had been such a child, but it was the reason we had liked him. He brought a lighter, more cheerful attitude to the guild, and he definitely brought up the morale of the members.
I still don't remember what caused me to invite him into the guild, or what caused him to accept.
Before he joined, he was Nickolas Emery, an average teenager with nothing special.
Now, he was Lord Flash, second in command to the SDK council, and my friend. No longer did he have the light attitude he'd had as a child. Now, at the age of seventeen, he was quiter, stronger, and less cocky.
"Lord Cornelius," a voice called.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2005 6:20 pm
Andromeda_Ascendant It's called, The Destiny. It is the first book in a short series. 3nodding Congratulations to ya! i'm still trying to write my book. and come up with a title. if anyone here reads fanfiction then go to www.mediaminer.coma nd look me up. WolvenJaganshi. (i would suggest you know what fanfiction is before going here) I'm on like, the fourth ro fifth chapter of my book and i have an idea for anther one if i can ever get a beginnign started, thats the hardest part.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2005 7:37 pm
I have a short story to share, when I can locate it. For now, I have a poem and a song.
Drowning in Absurdity [poem]
Remember that day when we walked down the path
bathing ourselves in the gaeity of the sun, surrounded by mirth?
you never applied yourself to what so named your wrath
and you sold your soul to hell and experienced unknown spirtual rebirth
And you told me those lies like a slap in the face and spit by my feet
gum on the shoes of life, a monkey on your back; those lies wouldn't let you down
they followed like a stalker right out of hell and without them you weren't complete
those lies, man, how they let you cruise like a ship, and they'll dance about til you drown
Never wanting to be saved, boy, you've made a mistake, take my honest word
taking everything else around you for granted and letting your life decay
the next thing you know, you're on display; now playing, at the theater of absurd
living hollow lies in such a state, hiding under thickly coated dissarray
if you won't be saved then boy, I can't do much to take the pain away.
The World On a Cigarette[song]
I picked the petals off the trees and watched you danced among the leaves
and left them strewn upon the floor and watched them drown forever more
Flying home on clouds of gold and then scraping off the green of mold
The dirt on my skirt that took hours of work
The fly on the wall I spotted from the hall and now I'm running away from all this material
all this material
I'm immaterial, inappreciable, inconsequential, inconsiderable, inapplicable, immaterial
I am immaterial
I'm breezing by the town and all the material that brings it down
Falling from the sky and watch the faces drop as I grin from so high
never never never never falling again
never never never never failing again
I'm dropping only dropping and that changes it all
now I am immaterial
above it all
now I am inappreciable of what we have done
and I am inapplicable to the normad standards that we've so vaguely set for the country in which we live and strive and drown and fall and fall and fall and die
in which we live and die
I am immaterial and I don't care
I am inconsiderable and I don't give a damn
I don't care
for material ways
I dont' care
what you say
Leave me alone
in my own sick phase
I am immaterial
strikes do not mean it's not part of the song. they're to express emotion.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2005 8:24 pm
Ah, one of my poems, not exactly the same calibur of all the other posts.. Sorry!
Oh, that I could shroud myself in shadow
And forget all that I know
Loose my mortal tethers
And the faults of man forgo
But hiding in the blessing
Of the losing of my mind
Lies a deeper sorrow
Of another kind
One that’s hardly corporeal
Yet bitter nonetheless
It is a darker, phantom pain
I’m unable to suppress
And though I can’t define it
Anymore then I can deny
It complements my sorrow
And will be with me till I die
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:43 am
I had this one published by poetry.com in the sixth grade:
My heart is my own which cannot be contained
Even by any beast you can tame
My heart is not wild, not the cause of my fame
But as a child, who has a mind of it's own
My heart is not yours to disown
So let my heart be
Let it be free
You are not the one who can contain me
So let me be
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 1:50 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 4:22 pm
DRUKEN SLURS
I'm angry.
I'm sad.
I know what's the key to take it all away.
Go to a bar!
Drink myself numb!
In my druken slur I'm on cloud 9.
In my druken Slur everything's beautiful.
In my druken slur I've not a clue about nothing.
After my Druken Slur I wake up.
with a head ache that's murder.
Puke is a must.
and...who's that ugly chick/guy in my bed?!
oi just a little disaterpiece resulting from too many cliched bar fics
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 8:04 pm
This is a small part for one of my main fan-fic character's biography. She's an anthropomorphic animal (meaning she looks like an animal that acts like a human being). Her name is Raquel "Rai" Pager ("Rai" in Japanese means "thunder", but it can also mean "trust") and she is a mutt called a catox (half cat, half fox) who was raised in the streets, but grew to be a trustworthy space rouge.
This chapter I call テストされた友情 (Tested Friendship). I enjoyed this part because I got to test my German language knowledge (don't worry, there's translations with this part smile ). This is where Rai's best friend, Josef Black, a wolf who just graduated from military school and is now a full-fledged soldier in the Corps, hunts her down to capture her, not knowing who he was really hunting. Rai was placed in a military prison (AKA the Brig) for stealing and, not able to bear the punishment anymore, she escaped. In this part, Josef has Rai pinned down and is struggling with either to let her go or bring her in. Enjoy! I also enjoy comments mrgreen Warning: Mild language ahead
The catox winced under his heavy weight, "C'mon Josef, lemme up already. I don't wanna go back to the hell hole again."
"...I.... I can't..." Josef replied a bit shakily.
"Josef...please....." she stared up at him with sad, pleading eyes, "Wir sollen Freunde sein...(I thought we were friends...)"
The wolf was silent for a moment the replied, "Ich wei�, aber meine Aufgabe kommt zuerst...(I know, but my mission comes first...)"
Rai gasped softly, then looked down toward the grass below her, her eyes shadowed by her bangs, "....so it's like that, huh?"
"Du k�nnen nicht es verstehen.(You cannot it understand.)" Josef notice that she didn't say anything, "Wenn ich Dich gehen lie�, k�nnte ich aus dem Korps heraus getreten werden.(If I let you go, I could be fired from the Corps.)"
"Dann Sie nicht m�ssen nur lie�en mich gehen....(Then you do not have only let me go....)," Rai waved her long fox tail agitatedly, "I BILDEN Sie lie�en mich gehen!(I'll MAKE you let me go!)" With that, she grabbed him around the neck with her tail and threw him off of her, quickly getting to her feet.
Josef slowly stood up, facing her, "Ich versteh euch nicht...(I do not understand you...)"
"Josef... bin ich dadurch da� Brig f�r fast einen Monat jetzt mit dem zeitgesteuerten Essen und den fast durchgehenden �bungen mit dem Schutz gewesen, der in meinem Gesicht schreit,(Josef... I 've been in that Brig for nearly a month now with the timed meals and the nearly going through almost non-stop exercises with the commanders screaming in my face,)" she explained as she straigtened herself up, "Ich kann nicht es nehmen! Wenn ich zur�ck gehen mu�, knacke ich!... Und ich gehe nicht zur�ck....you kann nicht mich bilden...(I can't take it! If I go back there, I'll crack!... And I'm not going back....you can't make me...)
"M�glicherweise, wenn Dich nicht in den K�mpfen... stehlen und erhalten w�rden...(Maybe if you wouldn't steal and get in fights...)"
"ES IST NICHT MEINE ST�RUNG!!!(IT IS NOT MY FAULT!!! )" Rai shouted, interupting Josef, "Die Stra�en sind viel haltbarer gewesen, innen zu �berleben, seit Sie umzogen. Und die Verfechter, zum uns der Nahrung und des Wassers zu geben sind nicht genau entweder... es waren entweder Sto�esel oder Ihrem getretenes sogar schlechteres... und das gleichm��ige Diebstahl zu erhalten zum zu �berleben... n�tzlich gewesen...(The streets have been a lot tougher to survive in since you moved. And supporters to give us food and water have not exactly been helpful either...it was either kick a** or get yours kicked even worse...and even stealing to survive...)"
"Es ist nicht wie das hier.(It is not like that here.)" Josef answered softly,"Du m�ssen nicht stehlen.(You do not have to steal)"
Rai's eyes began to well up with frustrated tears, "Aber ich m�chte nicht hier bleiben. Jedesmal wenn ich diesen Platz sehe, ist alles, das ich denke, ungef�hr dieses h�llische Gef�ngnis. Und ich wei�, wenn ich zur�ck jetzt gehe, ich bleibe, dort l�nger zu gl�tten...(But I don't want to stay here. Every time I see this place, all I think about is that hellish prison. And if I go back now, I know they'll keep me there longer...)
The wolf slowly turned his head, not looking at her and staying silent as he thought, then slowly responded," If you want to go... go..."
"Hmm?" She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
"But just... don't get in my way."
Rai slowly stepped back with a nod. She whispered a thanks and ran off into the thick woods, disappearing in the night.
Josef sighed heavily in relief as he fell on his knees, wondering if he did the right thing or not. Did he release a good friend from the past or a future, ruthless space pirate?
Raquel "Rai" Pager is � JadeK. Josef Black is � himself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 8:57 pm
One of the few poems I like
D:
The art teacher
His eyes carried over to the acid-free water-
color paper in front of me. Reaching tenderly
he took hold of my brush. I had never given
something so passively . It was outspoken but
slender as a shudder thundered down my spine.
-------------Men that I had seen, couldn't act in
this way. Bathing the bristles in the azure
diamonds, forcing the values back between
my thumb and forefinger. Moving my hand
back and forth like a child's kite in August?s
hot breath. I know I could see the words
tumble from his tongue
"don't push your paint, let it glide evenly".
Before he moved on, he stopped and
carried his eyes to me winking slightly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
