Air DragonAir DragonAir Dragon3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Written by GerFalcon
If you could fly, weighed two tons, and were carrying a pair of very rich and fragile customers to a charity ball, how would you go about taking off? Would you leap into the air and accelerate as fast as you could into flight? Would you start off on a cliff and plummet into a gentle glide? Perhaps you might try taking off from a standing start using sheer wing power, level off at a hover, then slowly push forward until you reach a comfortable cruising speed? None of these, apparently, is desirable for someone who simply wants to arrive fashionably on dragonback, and I can't hover. I'm a dragon, not a humming bird.
The correct answer is that you find a nice, long, flat spot to take off from and get a running start. The gentler you are with your customers, the happier they'll be, the more they tip, and the more likely it is that they'll talk favorably with their friends and family about their experience with Air Dragon.
I have one such couple getting ready
Tenebrae Factions: CALVARA'STenebrae Factions: CALVARA'S2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
The undead portion of Tenebraes population (68%)
SPECIES: Various "Majority species are Human, Anthros, Drakes and Drakka."
APPEARIANCE: the Majority of the calvera population of tenebrae appear skeletal with some appearing decayed and gaunt. Most wear the same garments or garment types that they wore while they were alive. These can range from being brand new to well worn and shreaded with age and weathering.
Physical:- At Variating states of Decay, ranging from pale or greenish - black skin to advanced states finally reaching the appearance of bleached or unbleached bones with perhaps some remaining organic organs or mecanical attachments or enhancements. Most are of a thin gaunt build depending on their species or build in life. Some may wear metal bands or braces to hold broken bones together or have metal bones or cybernetics where a limb or bone was broken after the individual became a Calvara. Calvaras are extreamly strong having no muscles to restrict their
last nightlast night, the smell of you seeped into me.last night3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i caught it dripping from my pores
and unfurling from my hair like a sightless memory
then settling comfortably on the pillow beside me
and pooling in the creases of my sheets
like a contented water cat.
last night, the taste of you rubbed into me.
your unique spice grubbed beneath my unpainted nails,
flavoring the back of my tongue and the space between my scapula
with a sweat-salty sweet desire
that I licked from your shoulder while your stomach breathed into mine
and we balanced indelicately on coxae and cotae
like dancing bears on balls.
last night, the idea of you sailed into me.
it came silently, slowly flowing into small dark corners
so it wouldn't frighten me
and waiting for the sunrise,
waiting to be cautiously picked up and examined for solidity,
to be confirmed by the pleasure in your eyes
when i said you'd meet her at Christmas
and you didn't look away.
She StaysI walk along the pier, your hand in mine, the sun setting beautifully into the grey sea. The mist gently drifts over the water, betraying the cold of winter. I don't mind, though. I only have to look at you, and I feel warm.She Stays2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's tough not to sound soppy.
Honestly, I'm not used to having this. I'll never really be used to it. I'd been lonely for a long time before I met you. I didn't think I'd have the kind of relationship that you watch on the cinema screens or read about in novels. I genuinely thought I'd be alone forever.
How wrong I was.
You smiled at me as I walked into Falmer bar and we made eye contact. I returned the gesture nonchalantly. It had been a hard day so far four hours of academic obligations back to back. Getting up for 10am was still a struggle, even in my third year.
Your smile stuck in my head as I faced away from you, leaning against the bar counter. I ordered a portion of cheesy chips and walked through to the sofas in the back bar, grateful for an oppo
a narrativea crow,a narrative3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
perched on my shoulder,
on my shoulder,
and soon his crowing,
his gorgeous crowing
he turned his head from my ear
so he could point his beak towards a man
catching his gold-haired daughter in his arms,
and turned back to my ear,
that man, that man over there, over there, over there,
his is as filled with dissapointment
as the sea with water,
look how he drowns;
looking at the gold-haired girl,
a bundle of giggles,
a bundle of giggles,
in her father's arms,
I brushed the crow
off my shoulder,
off my shoulder,
and watched him go,
and crow, so beautiful,
and crow, so beautiful,
in someone else's ear,
I miss him so.
Dreams'Here we go again', you think. First the dizziness, then the confusion, then the questions that don't stop rolling through your mind. 'Am I real?' You don't feel like it. 'Could this really all be a dream? Possibly.'Dreams6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And then everything feels like it could be in s l o w m o t i o n, but it isn't. Everything could happen or nothing at all. And it's scary. And it's hardto continue on like everything is normal, just for the sake of her. Just so she is happy. Just so they are not worried. You pretend everything is alright, when everything is just the opposite.
But you continue. With these thoughts in your head.
'Am I in a movie?'
paper planesI lay on the floor, waiting. I was naked (at least I think I was). My memories were like the view through an empty bottle at this very moment.paper planes2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Green, maybe blurry. Naked, too, perhaps.
Part of me was gone already, as the paper planes invaded the room, searching for sunlight.
I told them to disappear. They wouldn't find any down here.
---[asinine creme-coloured jinxes full of dust and steam.]
There was just this empty room, me and a little piece of dark grey water on the wooden floor, treasuring anxious shadows like a mother hen.
As I lay there, the world laved into my ear, and when it got too much to conserve, it kept pouring out again. It felt like liquid silver to my ear and cheeckbone.
When it reached my eyelid I silently started to cry as the world was too picturesque to believe.
these newborn starsit is the eveningthese newborn stars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of a night, and i
am crouched by the hearth,
you are here, with an ache
in my bones like the promise
of raining. you are here
with a drumming so low
i stir, but cannot answer.
time itself is a love
song. it plumes salt smoke
at my knees.
you are constellation, pressed
with astral steam. the shape
of you, invisible,
of cold light.
in my bones with the promise
of raining. i hone
my direction by the lean
of swallowed stars.
Almost As Perfect As...We tied our promises toAlmost As Perfect As...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like ribbons so that we
And we lay in the grass
Calling the black ones Nevermore
And the white ones Odette.
Because if we could pretend we
Were in the same park
Then we could pretend anything.
And remember the fountain,
The bridge, the single tree
We'd sit beneath.
And remember the sea,
The house, the intellectual air
Which I never saw
But which you told me
So earnestly about.
Like a bracelet of silver
They are wind-chimes
When I breathe.
And the scent of
Who knewWho knewWho knew3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The man you visited in a dream,
The one you re-traced a half-remembered
Path for, in the off-chance of
Surprising one another again:
Polychromatic flannel and subtle sighing
Through the teeth, gently
Warm eyes softly exotic
Slavic vodka on a late summer night,
Sweep by, wearing blinders of
Deep conversation, still
Smiling with an accent
His arm around a waist
I want to sit in my room, arms wrapped around
Knees against chest in the solace of the sun,
I want to watch the endless journeys of
Sidewalk strangers from the fire escape
But it's ten to four and
There's no time to cry anymore;
Only time to join the chattering
Choir girls practicing for
Dressing for the Ball: A Steampunk StoryIf only I could close my eyes again and open them to a different ceiling. Anything but the luxurious blue of the Hotel Victorosius, today. Even just to wake up and have this already over. I curled up on my side ignoring the silken dress lying in splendor on the gilt chair.Dressing for the Ball: A Steampunk Story2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It did not help. No choice remained.
I must dress for the ball.
"Change." He had not bothered to glance up from his papers. "We are leaving." I'd frozen and turned, schoolbag still on my shoulder.
"May I ask where?" The hand hidden by the school bag strangled the tartan of my school uniform.
"Bellaris." The Dark Town.
To think, some girls like balls I groaned mirthless as I pulled the nightgown up and over my head. Some maneuvering was demanded to not brush any painful spots on my shoulders. Well, normally, I like balls well enough as well. Just, not today.
Next, a clean chemise tugged over my head. Ouch, I gingerly touched my jaw which had caught on the neckline. That would need make-up. Pantalette
Awake For The SunriseI despise every solemn sunrise spent without you,Awake For The Sunrise3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the pink flesh of sunburned skies peeling away
and resting in my bloodshot eyes that say
I will cry before it rains and the sun
will always be more bright than our future.
But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try,
because the moon loves the stars enough
to be with them at least once a day.
The way rain clouds ploughed their way
into yesterday and tomorrow reminds me
of the time I asked why you were crying
and you told me "Today won't last forever."
So my heart broke
like it had no other options;
a water-filled jar being frozen
and there just wasn't enough space
left in my chest for air.
Satisfaction is a ShadowSatisfaction is a shadowSatisfaction is a Shadow2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
So near and yet so far,
Which yearns for yet another moon
And feeds on every star.
The rich remain forever poor
And the poor; truly rich,
And heaven falls to sordid waste
Curing Man's endless itch.
More copious than the cosmos
Yet once a pinch of snuff,
Has humanity forgotten
Enough was once enough?
Stepping Over LeavesStepping Over Leaves1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And so I tried to hold your letters
the way you used to hold my hand;
fingers spaced between torn edges and
around undotted i's.
Guiding me away
from those gentle autumn leaves that
I had loved to crunch
so very much.
But instead, I stepped against the sunspots
of every promise you had broken
trying just to pull some meaning from a sentence
ending with "goodbye".
And when my eyes began to slide over the words you had misspelled,
I closed your note
and tore it into nothing.
Nothing but a sad reminder that once again you had cracked
like those gentle autumn leaves
that I had loved
so very much.
i'm not going to say i've missed youthere is enough air in mei'm not going to say i've missed you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to shatter the ocean.
i will tell you straight,
another thousand miles
would not dim the stars
i hold for you.
the aches in my thumbs
forceful and hollow,
strong enough to
kill a rabbit.
i never want to meet
someone like you again.
i never want to move on,
i never want to move -
i want to wait
where i sit, bleeding,
until you come around.
i will know this
by the way your eyes
in the car,
creating stars in the dark
of its cab,
a personal night sky.
i will never let slip
the secrets you have left
on my skin;
the secret ways
in which you loved me,
and only me.
i will lick my cuts
and hope to heal,
and press memories of our bodies,
two interlocking spirals,
to the backs of your eyelids
so that you will remember us
as we were,
as the first and last things
when you come and go
from an ocean-deep slumber.
2nd person fiction and YouYou like fiction written in the second person. You may not admit it to yourself, but deep down, you really do. It teases you with its confrontational otherness, its flamboyantly displayed post-modernism, its teeth.2nd person fiction and You3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Do not look at its teeth. You do not want to look at its teeth.
Fiction written in the second person and you have a long history of denial. At first, you were sure it couldn't be done. Then it was done, and it was done to you, and you liked it, too, but it was only the one time and you were kind of drunk. It was an experiment, and it was interesting as an experiment, but that was all it was.
Only, of course, it wasn't.
Fiction written in the second person has invaded your dreams, and what's worse, your sexual fantasies. You'd be picturing a luscious blonde, rubbing her rubbables, yearning for your touch, when suddenly a voice would pop into your head, calmly narrating what you were doing: "You are picturing a luscious blonde," the voice would say, "rubbing her rubbables. Hey
Derealizationthis reflection in the mirrorDerealization4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is something I don't really
This body that i have
I don't belong to
my mind is leaving, leaving it
I'm floating away
floating away from my body
everything everything everything
is leaving me
I can't control this
where is my control?
Why don't I have a single say
I am leaving my body
my body will be left behind here
everything around me, everything
is starting to disintegrate
And this reflection in the mirror
is something I don't really like.
But this reflection in the mirror,
is starting to