SoT Side Story - Deuce and OrchidDeuce grunted. Everyone seemed to be going their own ways and exploring the building. Shame the forest was off limits. She could have used some quiet.SoT Side Story - Deuce and Orchid1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Seeing as nobody felt like interacting with her, which she honestly preferred, she decided to make her way to one of the kitchens the cat mentioned. It had been a while since she last ate.
The clean tiled room was empty, but Deuce noticed some others behind her. Opening what seemed to be a pantry, various smells sabotaged her nose. "What is this stuff?" She muttered, covering her nostrils.
"Oh, that's fruit!" A larger figure pushed past her. She noticed it was a human, bright yellow hair (Deuce was sure there was a proper term for it, but human language had many differences when compared Klesvian) and a pink dress. Striped stockings, similar to Deuce's fur pattern, went up her legs. Clutched in her arm was a large book. Deuce recognized a few symbols from the language of mages.
"Fruit, is that what you call it? Peeking in after the girl
~.: Amelia's Story Part 6.:~~.: Amelia's Story Part 6.:~8 months ago in Profiles More Like This
Amelia: *goes back to sleep* *wakes up the next morning*
Sonic: *comes in through her door* and says morning sleeping beauty
Amelia: oh good morning sonic *smiles*
Sonic: did you sleep well last night?
Amelia: i sure did *smiles*
Sonic: well thats good *smiles back*
Sonic: anyways i came to see if you wanted to go hangout or something
Amelia: sure whatever you want to do i'm game!!
Sonic: *laughs* okay
*then shadow comes in*
Amelia: oh hey shadow what's up?
Sonic: hey that's my line!!
Shadow:......... -_-; anyways what's going on here?
Sonic: oh nothing much just chatting
Tales Of Fleetwood page 1 chapter 1It was a storm and rainy night down at the little English port town of Fleetwood and dark topics glam down at the tavern. A butcher named David and Sheppard named William claimed to have seen a creature hiding in the dark. they even found one of the lambs savagely slaughtered in the fields right next to the woods but most people belief it's just a pack of wolfs. Cause recently howling wasn't uncommon anymore during the cold late summer nights.Tales Of Fleetwood page 1 chapter 17 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
the butcher sat right next to the tavern keeper and had already fancied himself a drink while most of the townsfolk sat around him "I tell ye that poor lamb had tooth marks larger than I've ever seen in my live!" he spoke loudly. He toke another big swig out of his pint "Then in the woods I saw eyes as red as hells fire itself!" he shouted.
Now another man stud up, it was Alan a servant of Duke Jackson lord of the town and region "By the saints can't you shut up I doubt my lord would look nicely upon scaremongers as you. and especially now while
Spring my dearGreat beauty awake me from my sorrowed dreams.Spring my dear8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let me be reborn in your light, cause all new live starts at your glance.
Now as you soft tears fall on the land you wash away my cold sins.
Spring my dear my beauty you help me smother the memories of old.
And I now follow my path again but with your solar smile to anguish all the dark.
Interview With The AssassinsInterview With Ghost, Chaos and Shadow.Interview With The Assassins5 months ago in Profiles More Like This
How old are you?
Ghost:My age is not for your ears
Chaos: I'm with Ghost on this one
Ghost/Chaos: *facepalm* Your not meant to tell
Anyway, What gender are you?
Chaos: I'm A Guy
Shadow: I'm a Girl
Do you want a hug?
Shadow: Yes *hugs Ghost*
Ghost: Why are you hugging me
Shadow: Cuz i can
Chaos: Hey back off Ghost is mine
Have you killed anyone?
Ghost: Yes well it's my job idiot but they were all evil
Chaos: Same here
Shadow: I've killed a few
Do you hate anyone:
Ghost: Well that's a big list
Chaos:Just the ones who are evil and who want to hurt Ghost
Shadow:Aww cute~ and yes i do
Ghost: What did u just say
Shadow: *backs off* nothing
Ever kissed someone?
Ghost/Chaos: *look at each other* Yes and sometimes for our job
Ghost: There's someone out there for you Shadow
Shadow: Stop making me jealous of you
What Weapons do you usually fight with?
Rage.This again, petty arguments. I'm sorry I'm human, not a god of self renown. I'm sorry I can't walk on water or fly or even keep on fighting till I die. I'm also sorry I can't hold a relationship that well, you know that I have several problems and that this was expected so early in this event, yet you didn't think that it would happen. You assumed I wasn't lying when I said, "It was fine." you assumed and never asked again about it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I don't have the capacity to speak my mind all the time, or truly ever. I'm sorry I'm aloof, actually you know what. I'm done being sorry, I'm done metaphorically crying, because I've already wasted my tears enough for others that now I can't cry. I'm sorry that it's come to the point where my life is partly vilified and that I'm attacked by you, you claim to care for me and love me but want my head should be on a silver platter.Rage.5 months ago in Emotional More Like This
Truly.If you truly loved me,Truly.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you would say it.
If you truly cared,
you would say it.
If you truly didn't hate me
I wouldn't be in pain.
I tend to over-estimate,
But truly an estimation of you'rs,
is pointless really.
The poison I have drank of your lies.
And the your several voices shouting,
The choices you have made prove you,
Nothing but cowardice and prowess you're a fool!
But I'm the biggest of them all for trusting you!
Uzumaki Amaya - Perfil Nome - Uzumaki AmayaUzumaki Amaya - Perfil5 months ago in Profiles More Like This
(Amaya significa chuva noturna) Isso porque em Amegakure sempre está chovendo, e Amaya nasceu em uma noite chuvosa de Amegakure)
Idade - Pre-Shippuden: 26 / Shippuden: 30
Sexo - Feminino
Data de Nascimento - 19 de Setembro
Signo - Virgem
Status - Viva
Altura - 172,8 cm
Peso - 57,7 kg
Vila - Amegakure
F9efbda13695b689c550bb4cdd9cd293-d4tt8o1 by *Fabianim Tipo Sanguíneo - A
F9efbda13695b689c550bb4cdd9cd293-d4tt8o1 by *Fabianim Ranque - N/D
F9efbda13695b689c550bb4cdd9cd293-d4tt8o1 by *Fabianim Classificação - S-rank
CM: ItaRi-Grievences Tic Tock...Tic..Tock... The old grandfather clock was vigilant as always, individuals may leave space and time, but he still keeps it. Ever present, forever going forward, not taking a moment to pity the deceased, or taking a pause for the mourning to catch up. No, the grandfather clock continues to move forward.CM: ItaRi-Grievences5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Golden eyes pierced the darkness that surrounded them, laying motionless on the bed, staring absently at the ceiling above. The only sound was the constant ticking of the grandfather clock in the other room, and the graceful pitter-patter of raindrops as they danced swiftly and effortlessly down the window. It had been a week and still the petite doll like girl hadn't hardly moved from her bed. Light peach curls hung in suspended animation on the girls cheeks, where tears had ceased, leaving a translucent line of flesh that in the right light almost appeared to cause the girl's cheeks to sparkle, to be almost radiant. But there would be no brigh
1. Dance (AyaSebby)1. Dance (AyaSebby)6 months ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Aya didn’t know what was wrong with her today as she tumbled around and tired regaining her composer. Her boyfriend Sebastian a handsome man with long black hair and tempting blue eyes he was moving gracefully on his feet, of course he would he was a master swords men.
He walked to his girlfriend and smiled, “we can stop practicing if you want,” he said. There was a ball coming at the crescent moon guild and Aya didn’t think she could learn ballroom dancing but wanted to practice anyway.
“No,” she said, “I want to keep practicing and getting better,” After all she was going to dance in a pretty dress and look like a princess and Sebastian a prince. She blushed at the thought.
Sebastian smiled and grabbed her hand and led her to the dance flower. Lavender eyes met blues as he held her hand and danced with her. No words were needed to be said as he led her on the dance floor, his fingers laced with hers as he took her dancing.
In the MirrorI do not understand,In the Mirror10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
What I am about to say
And yet, I can't stop.
Those thoughts are still thought
That you are perfect
And I know that can't be true,
There can't be perfection!
It isn't natural,
It isn't tangible,
You are simply...
But how can that be? I ask
How is that so?
Is it possible for someone,
Anyone for that matter,
To reach aesthetic success?
And still, you are simply...
I envy you.
No, actually, I think I hate you
I aspire to be just like you....
So I ask with affection,
What exactly is your secret?
RottenRotting from the InsideRotten1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Feelings of Filth
Under the nails
Back of the throat
Within its heart
So easy to cure
But Fear holds tight
Coils in its belly
Claws at its lungs
Deadens its mind
Fear to become clean
To find out
That it can’t
To understand how deep
That some things can’t be cured
That it’s been rotten since birth
Fear chokes its breath
Which comes fast and shallow
Not enough air reaches
The burnt paper that is our lungs
Filled with holes
And the smell of blood
Tearing at each wheeze
Of clean air
Moaning at every exhale
Of putrid filth
But nothing fills the chasm
That leers in the belly
A void to Hell
Decorated by self-hate and deprivation
Bordered by fuming sores
The abyss leaves no way
Sitting shouldn't even be possible
But the body persists
Carrying the weight of the weightless
Beyond all my willpower as its soul
There is no soul
Oblivion claimed even that from us
It chewed the abomination up and spat it out
Because even Hell
I think I've lost my poetic powers...I think I've lost my poetic powersI think I've lost my poetic powers...1 week ago in Free Verse More Like This
and left them there
like chinese takeout leftovers
the art of
Living MemoirsNever let them slip awayLiving Memoirs5 days ago in Free Verse More Like This
Preserved from long ago
Of roving ships
From shore to shore
As droves disembark
And clamor for distant promise
Never forsake them
Or befoul their ghosts
Entombed in the hearts and minds of kin
Salvos and shackles
Hold true to this day
For shivering masses
Remain within us all
From shrill lessons learned
The scorn forebears
Have braved and endured
Their time dwells
Within our very roots
Emerging here and there
And to lovingly jolt us forth
Tried and true friend
A child of dismay
Reared trough triumph
Toil and tribulation
a better poetyou area better poet3 days ago in Free Verse More Like This
garden of oxymorons, similes , and metaphors
and i am
under scorched sun
With What's Left of FortitudeA dreary mist rollsWith What's Left of Fortitude13 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
From the fleeting scourge of nightfall
Driven from the pit of nothingness
To savagely consume
Every fine morsel of the living
What i cling to desperately
Is taken with little effort
And dashed upon the hard shell of the world
As a ruthless display
Vicious, cold and vile
Upon whom I adore
The clouds weigh heavy
Compressing them all
Into quiet submission
Swift and unwavering
Trying all our might
To no avail
We slide through the muck
Parting with skin, flesh and blood
Pint by pint
We give and give
And succumb to exhaustion
Time after time
We are born
From the ceaseless tussle of night
And returned to the same
At the dwindling spark of dusk
When shall we climb
From this harrowing curse?
Or whom will mourn for us
When dirt and shadow
Consumes us all?
What my family grades me (does that make sense?)A - AverageWhat my family grades me (does that make sense?)1 year ago in Comedy More Like This
B - Bad
C - Crap
D - Dead
F - F@#$ed
HandsMy mother complains about how much she dislikes her hands. It's true they're awfully weathered-looking and red, but they are the soft and warm hands of my childhood. They are the hands that comfort me when I'm troubled, chastise me when I'm being difficult, and assist me when I'm stumped.Hands4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They are the hands that map the stars.
My father has enormous hands, with long thick fingers. They are strong and calloused from working out in the yard and in the woods. They poke me in the ribs when he's playing with me and pick out which direction to take us when we've lost our way.
They are the hands of an alpha wolf.
Now, my hands are big for a girl's and greatly resemble my father's-wide palms, long fingers, heavy knuckles. Sometimes, I find myself not liking my hands because they're not pretty and girly-looking, and I can't get cute rings over my thick knuckles. My mother tells me quite often that my hands look so capable. But what does that mean?
I guess I'll just have to dis
Still Life With Dr. PepperStill Life With Dr. PepperStill Life With Dr. Pepper4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tongue between my teeth, I take three careful
minutes to take aim, the heavy hammer raised
to strike the nail held between two fingers, and
with all my six-year-old strength I swing.
And then my hand is crushed between my knees,
and I'm doubled over with my mouth wide open,
bruised thumb pounding like my heart, my father
putting down his tools and turning towards me,
holding out the half-full glass of ice and soda he always
has beside him while he works, and which my mother
says I am too young to have. Here, he says, hold that
and drink it. The cold will help. He puts it in my hand,
and with each sip I find the pain grows less. My father
hands me back the hammer. And next time I take better aim.
White Knight, Black HorseWhite Knight, Black HorseWhite Knight, Black Horse4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Waiting all on my own in tall, tall tower,
A one-windowed room is my only bower.
I'm knitting and stitching to try to stay sane,
With my rescue the only thing on my brain.
(And I'm expecting, as a matter of course,
My own white knight on a tall black horse.)
Of course many try but none can succeed:
They do their best but they fail in the deed.
Their horses are gray, or chestnut, or white;
They stare at the tower then give up the fight.
(None have the slightest of chances, of course,
Since they aren't a white knight, on a black horse.)
I dreamed of my rescuer, longed to be free,
Knowing my knight would have the right key.
He would be strong, and handsome, and smart,
Young and wide-smiling with an open heart.
(They try the old lock every once in a while,
But they're missing the horse, the whiteness, the smile.)
Some call up for my help, but why even try?
There's little I can do except sit here and cry.
Princesses just don't have the training knight
The Contemplations of ShadowThe sun sails high into the sky every morning, surrounding me with its fiery warmth, pushing me gently in the opposite direction. Sadly, light and I cannot occupy the same space at any given time.The Contemplations of Shadow4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Let me introduce myself. I am your shadow.
Well, that's not entirely accurate. I am the shadow of every object on this earth-everything from the Taj Mahal to the single speck of dust sitting innocently on your desk.
I have dwelled on this planet an infinite number of years, so I have seen many stories. Great tragedies, great comedies. As for the well-loved epics, let me just inform you they were greatly exaggerated.
But let me tell you about the worst stories, dear reader.
The worst stories are the wars.
War is everywhere. Behind it runs a trail of death, gore, and heartbreak so massive it spans across milennia and transcends all social boundaries. Peace, for all the human race, for this entire planet, is merely a coincidental turn of events.
I do not believe in fate.
I do not believe
BruteBruteBrute4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With my hand laid against your cheek I feel
much bigger than I am, and, for a moment,
like I own you, like the soul I am not sure
I believe in is expanding past bounds of body,
heavy-jawed hyena to your small owl, and just
for that instant I see you not as my friend,
but as conquest and I as conqueror, and for
a heartbeat I think that I might strike you,
until you lean your face into my palm
and smile, seeing perhaps the predator
flashing in my half-shut eyes, the teeth
I do not quite bare, and then underneath
your touch I feel that fierceness crumble,
and I am tamed like wild dogs once were.