The Seal Of Judith. The Change Part.1The Seal Of Judith. The Change Part.13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
PREVIOUSLY: You were finally registered and started to work in the mansion of King Isilra, while you were with Leon you were given a couple options for work by choosing between 3 doors according to your way of thinking.
NOTE: YOU ONLY READ THIS IF YOU RESPONDED (I'll go pass the Door Of Change, A Nocturnal garden? Sounds cool! Gonna take a peek~!) (It's like a dating game if you didn't get the clue..)
You decided to check out The Nocturnal Garden, you opened the door giving a ¨creak¨ sound, you walked in and closed the door and looked around the place. It wasn't a room but it looked like the place where they filmed the last Jurassic Park movie it was a jungle! It had many plants and the room seemed to never end of this, and many had a very special and beautiful light that glowed in the dark room, you begin to walk around and saw that the room was dark a
Of All Things - WatsonThere was one thing that Watson could never get used to, one thing that Holmes did that always slowly drove him insane, with worry and even guilt sometimes for not being there It was when he would disappear for weeks on end. He would say he would be back soon, that it was a simple case, But he wouldn't return.Of All Things - Watson5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There was never contact either in these, just a disoriented Holmes wandering home at an ungodly hour, hurt beyond what any normal Human would have given up at. But he always found his way home, to his doctor, to safety.
He prayed that would be today that the next time the door opened that he would slam down his journal and bolt out to the staircase to find Holmes in a heap on the floor, hurt, but alive.
But now, the door opened quietly, never a good sign, was it Mrs. Hudson? He set down his journal and stood, walking from his office and placing his hand on the door to Holmes' study. It was officer Clark
LucyLucy4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She dances, forever in my imagination.
But is she worth striving my entire life to create?
I believe she is.
It would mean sacrificing my current way of life...
My adventures and long discussions with myself...
Is the birth of my dreams worthy of the death of my reality?
I'll do it, but it will be impossible alone.
I will destroy my beliefs.
For her. For it. For the dust in my brain.
I drink myself to sleep now, and forget this insanity.
I Can Haz Ceasefire?"I'm not sure I fully understand the traditions of this race," said general Zhlag, "but I don't think that's normal."I Can Haz Ceasefire?2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"You there!" called the commander. "Human. What are you doing?"
"I just want to talk for a minute," he shouted across the blasted field. "Don't shoot!"
"I've read about this," said the general. "Isn't a white flag more traditional?" he shouted to the messenger.
"We're in the middle of a war!" the messenger replied. "Not a lot of white flags handy."
"I suppose practical matters sometimes require one to deviate from tradition, but I've never heard of somebody calling a truce with a cat on a stick."
"Well, like I said. Not a lot of white flags around at the moment."
"It's not even a white cat!"
"Not a lot of white cats, either."
General Zhlag decided not to draw attention to what must already have been an embarrassing matter. "I take it you are speaking on behalf of the Earth people. What is it you wanted to say?" he asked.
"Just one thing," replied the messenger: "Sic him
Wtf?Wtf?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Simply perfect the way you are
Is this the second coming?
Because I feel something shaking in the place
You're not the hottest one
But oh baby you sure are yumming
I see you shake
And baby can you bake?
You just want what you can take
Like its a piece of steak
I see you looking
I see you smiling
I'm coming to claim whats rightfully mine
Who are you?
You are the #2??
But before we have our dine
Can I have fries with that?
Short.There is a constant thought,Short.6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
The beating of a heart,
That which is mostly sought,
The single greatest art.
Sky FallIt’s always when it’s raining...Sky Fall2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She calls me on the phone.
Her voice worried and hysterical,
Compelling me to get home.
The sky is falling…
That everything’s coming down.
She can feel the whole world crying,
And she’s afraid she going to drown.
Hiding under an umbrella.
Isolated on her bed.
Maybe to keep the rain out,
Or the rumors that have spread.
Trying to ignore them,
Like the voices in her head.
She shuts her eyes to scream,
But silent raindrops fall
That one day,
The clouds might go away.
it leaves me stifled and choked,
When even on the sunny days,
it makes no sense,
that she's always soaked.
In the night.
She wakes to rain,
Hiding under an umbrella in fright.
Like the downfall causes her pain.
She tries to be brave,
Peeking up at the skies.
But she cant help herself,
So she just hides and cries.
and she says
I know i'm lost,
and I've almost lost it all.
Paper Planes (mix)You called againPaper Planes (mix)2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like I don't know what you want to do.
And I'm still folding these letters,
Pretending my words just might reach you.
So I let it ring
Hiding from the rain,
And the feelings it brings.
while hiding from the pain.
Reminded of when we spent the days,
Like they'd always last.
Now all we have are memories,
That belong to the past.
And I'm just sitting here
Still trapped under the rain.
Waiting for the chance,
To send these paper planes.
I look out the windows
Thinking about where the time goes,
How I let it slip away,
While I watched the clock tick,
It's way throughout the day.
And I've cursed this wasted time,
Ignoring all your calls
Wishing I could find the strength
To break these invisible walls.
And I wish that I could tell the truth,
And I wish that I could lie.
But I've been too afraid,
With no real reason why.
You call again
But I'm too afraid of what you're gonna say,
So I let it ring.
And I'm still here,
For the end
I missI missI miss2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the feeling of
your soft skin
the sore in
my paining heart
when you're away
you gave me
always and ever
returned to me
you my love
as I stand here
before your fresh grave
DeceptiveDeceptive2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Tempting with beautiful wings;
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
Pirate: The Legend of Chenbeard 1 - 2Pirate: The Legend of ChenbeardPirate: The Legend of Chenbeard 1 - 22 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter One: Dirty Work
Release One: Pages 4 - 7
CHENBEARD RAN UP to the group of pilgrims that were approaching the stream and upon reaching their group he dropped to his knees and began to plead with them, "Sirs! Please excuse this ragged man and take pity on him," he said, his strange brogue vanishing instantly to be replaced by perfect Common. "My companion and I were waylaid by bandits and she managed to escape them by hiding near the stream. They've taken all of my clothing and possessions and though I don't much care for the loss of my material wealth, I would like to beg you desperately for a set of robes to wear. Without them, I fear I will be unable to enter the holy city and my pilgrimage will end here in failure. I have little doubt that the Gods have sent the bandits to punish me for some of my past wrongdoings, but I hope that you can be my salvation and grant me a second chance to complete my journey."
Pounding Head And there was that pounding in his head again beating in his ears like a snare drum keeping the time for the army as lines of cadets marched in the rain, black leather boots crushing puddles to cobblestone and splashing water up like a miniature tsunami. A tsunami which would rise up and swell from the ocean, grabbing at the buildings and pulling them down greedily. Greedy the way the tax man ripped the poor man's home away, leaving him depressed and alone and beaten. Beaten the way the blond woman curled up on her bathroom floor with bruises on her face and arms was by her husband, the husband she can't leave because of some misguided and self-destructive sense of loyalty. Loyalty rooted in the confusion between love and terror, the loyalty felt by the boy who demands his kidnapper not be punished, and psychiatrists gravely announce has developed Stockholm syndrome, the way he falls asleep in her mother's arms, dreaming oPounding Head2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Pirate SolsticeThe Pirate Solstice:The Pirate Solstice2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There is tale around the Galbin Coast,
Of a black ship that appeared on the Winter Solstice.
It arrived at a town near Bismarch,
Struck heavily by famine and crop plagues.
The ship drifted silently upon the ocean currents,
Not a creak nor groan could be heard from its frame.
It docked at the port like an ominous reaper's vessel;
A metallic boarding ramp - much like a daemon's tongue -
Slithered slowly from its deck to meet with wooden jetty.
The crew descended, wearing black cloaks and black hats,
Fedoras, I believe they were called.
These figures made little noise as they moved,
walking slowly, silently and solemnly,
Carrying huge rucksacks upon their backs.
One by one, they dispersed throughout the town,
They went from house to house, distributing food,
Gifts and other things of the like.
For the first time in a long while,
The town was filled with laughter and joy.
Children actually giggled and smiled,
While adults breathed a sighs of relief and ea
Hold The NoiseHer words.Hold The Noise2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They grace pages,
From the tip of her tongue.
Just one more melody,
That goes unsung.
Yet pen strikes at paper,
Creating worlds and dreams.
Not knowing her own talent,
She takes them to extremes.
Unable to control her abilities,
She rhymes the world from reason.
Time holds its breath,
The stars fade out,
She pauses death.
And life stands still.
She writes it all,
While watching from a window sill.
In the worlds she made.
Away from the loud reverberations,
Of stress, life, and boys.
She finds she is finally able,
To Hold The Noise.
The Misadventures of ChenbeardA humorous adventure filled with accents, jokes and every single reference we can possible get away with!The Misadventures of Chenbeard1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Story One: He’s a Pirate After All…
…and so it came to pass that the once great pirate captain, Chenbeard the Mighty, found himself adrift upon the lonely currents of the ocean. Having been exiled from his crew, mostly from drinking too much of the rum and stealing underwear, the captain found his fate taking a rather sad turn. He had been knocked unconscious, bound and gagged, then tossed unceremoniously into one of the many dinghies that adorned the sides of the Sangue Padre.
Ordinarily, an exiled captain would find himself tossed into swirling currents of the sea. It was not uncommon for many of them to lose their lives in this fashion, but those within the crew that remained loyal to him, voted instead for a more humane end to his career.
Thus we begin the tale of Chenbeard the pirate, once a great man and now a mere hobo of the seve
Flight Rising, A RiddleThe ruins were so much a part of the landscape that most dragons didn't even see them. Etta hovered calmly, her eyes glued to the indecipherable runes. Traveling wasn't much encouraged among her family. Many of them thought it was too dangerous, and everyone else agreed that there was nothing outside of their home caves in the Sunbeam Ruins. When you were only as big as a Blackwing hummingbird, you had to be careful.Flight Rising, A Riddle2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Making sure the runes were fixed in her mind for later, Etta darted away from the column and back towards her base. It was always dark in the Tangled Wood, when it wasn't pitch black. And she had seen pitch; it bubbled all over the place in Ashfall. She let such thoughts simmer in her head, frills flickering slightly in the breeze from her flight. She let a few notes hum out, throat vibrating. She'd found some nearly intact sentences, she thought. It was hard to tell, with the old writing.
A sudden shadow, too swift for movement, and she was pinned. Her happy hum turned to
StupidStupid2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because I am stupid, so I believe in everything you say.
Because I am stupid, I will sacrifice my all for your comfort.
Because I am stupid, I want to tell you all my secrets.
Because I am stupid, I thought you were also stupid.
Cold RazorsCold Razors:Cold Razors2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let it pierce into my flesh
The cold metal of razors
and let me carve into my skin
a wonderous design of love
Love for the pain which I inflict upon myself
Love for the disgusting toxin which I bleed from deep within me
Love for all the people that remind me everyday of how pointless my existence is
Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to say something too?
Did you want to enjoy of this toxic waste?
This nauseating poisonous sulphurous odious mixture of noxious FUMES!
Ah, but you're one of the normal people aren't you
You can comb your hair without pain
You can dye it any colour you want
You can style it in any manner you please...
and yet you choose to complain?
Oh that's right, you can run too
You can run and jump and vault and swim and whatever else you feel like doing
You can enjoying the feeling of wind in your face without the need of
Ah, but that's alright, here let me sit and congratulate you
Let me pat you on the back for bringing glory to us al
(A)Musing - Part OneIt took ten minutes for Lawrence Bradley to realize he was still on the same paragraph, reading without actually reading. He blinked at the page rather dully before opening the bedside table drawer and fishing out a bookmark. The story would not progess tonight, not as long as these thoughts weighted heavily on his mind. He folded up his wire glasses and laid them on top of the book. Sighing, he slouched his way into a more horizontal position.(A)Musing - Part One2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It would have been a lie to claim he wasn't attracted to her. And Lawrence Bradley was, among other things, a honest man. He was attracted, but he didn't know why.
She was quite sweet, but no more so to him than she was to everyone. Intelligent, yes, but weren't most of his students? They managed a passable enough imitation of intelligence anyway, at least when they showed up for class. She wasn't pretty - and that wasn't a harsh judgement on his part. Autumn Fanshaw was as plain Jane as they made them and he'd taught his share of
I amThere is a life waiting to bloomI am2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It is a hope, a dream.
I have faith- In the sun and moon,
I have evidence of things unseen.
There is a life lingering behind
It is my mistakes, my pain.
I have memories that once shined,
I have memories of clouds and rain.
I would cry and I would laugh
I will rise and I will fall
But who I was, who I will be-
They aren't of importance to me.
A past and future must fall away
They aren't who I am today.
Being alive shows who is inside-
For the point, is that
Hardwork v.s. TalentHardwork v.s. Talent:Hardwork v.s. Talent2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
In this world, hard work is everything. As ridiculous as it may sound, it is indeed a fact that cannot be ignored. Whilst the existence of geniuses or natural prodigies cannot be discounted as a mere anomaly of fate, it is also incorrect for us to believe that we cannot surpass them in our own way. The fact that some people appear to be more skilled at a particular task is simply the illusion of 'best fit'.
If a hundred people were asked to write poetry, some would be good and some would be bad. If the same hundred were asked to play sports, some would be good and some would be bad. Even if we take into account the fact that some individuals are 'well-rounded', even they will have an eventual weakness.
The problem then stems from one's ability to convert talent into something marketable as a job. For example, a talent in riding a unicycle can allow one to be an entertainer, but a talent in being able to find the best way to grope a person, is likely to get
StrikingIt was warm.Striking2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Not hot like she had been expecting a soft, gentle warmth that saturated her every extremity down to her fingertips. Like stoking the fire of a small heater, one bundle of sticks at a time. She was nestled snugly under the pale blue sheets watching sleepily as the man beside her dozed on. His grey hair looked more frazzled than normal and it was strange to her to see him so relaxed. The sharp intelligence in his blue eyes had always been striking and they were now closed to her.
Dinner conversation had been polite, ranging all over from Shakespeare to the latest blockbuster film; the two were completely absorbed in their own world for the night while the din of the crowd rose and fell around them.
She stretched her neck and shoulder blades with a soft groan, sparing a brief glance at his watch lying askew on the nearby intable. Nearly 2:15 in the afternoon. She returned her arm back to her side and burrowed back into the blankets with a puff of a sigh.