Chante-Reve.Lorsqu'enfin les Portes du Souvenir furent fermées,More Like This
l'Oubli s'engouffra dans la citadelle du Secret,
Le scellant à jamais.
Une paire d'ailes battait l'air furieusement, produisant un bruit particulier, bourdonnant.
Avec circonspection, une abeille voletait entre les plantes forestières, avant de se poser finalement sur les pétales d'une cassiopea, une fleur orange au parfum entêtant. Le vent léger qui parcourait la clairière faisait ondoyer les quelques frêles plantes aux alentours ainsi que les herbes, alternant ainsi l'exposition au soleil de l'abeille et de son promontoire, qui oscillaient alors entre lumière et ombre.
Kaezar contemplait cet instant de pure sérénité d'un air vague, bercé par le doux bruissement des arbres.
Allongé dans l'herbe, il respirait doucement, profitant pleinement de ce moment de quiétude dans la Forêt d'Adhara.
Délaissant la vision du bourdonnant insecte et d
The Life Of A ReflectionMy life is eternally tied to yours. Do I ever get to do anything fun, though? Do I ever get to sit in the sun on a warm day or kiss a pretty girl on the lips? No, never. Alive always, but existing only when you step in front of a mirror. Even then I am at your beck and call, doing only as you do and nothing more. I must move and twist in perfect sync with you, I can never move on my own. I am eternally stuck in a mirror and you're stuck to what? Perhaps your pitiful little hometown or even your parents' house, but at least you get to go somewhere. I am eternally tied to you, because this is the lot and life of a reflection.More Like This
Well, I am sick of it.
DH: AloneHe poked the ray gun in front of him, then drew his finger back instinctively as it let out a small spurt of electricity. Ouch. He pulled his glove off and stuck his slightly-burnt finger in his mouth, then let it fall as the pain diminished.More Like This
He was alone in the lab that night. Again.
On the good days, the ones where he woke up with lots of ideas and had had enough energy drinks, he'd spend his time at his workbench prodding at failed inventions and fantasizing about ruling the world with Penny by his side. Sometimes he'd go out into the living room and surf the internet. Maybe update his blog if he felt like it, even go for a guy's-night-out with Moist.
Today was not one of those days. Today Moist was off doing... moist... things; today was one of the days he'd sit at his workbench for hours on end, holding staring contests with his partially-assembled Freeze Ray. Today was not a laundry day, and today, his blog had no new posts and his email inbox remained empty, despite him checking