Rune

"Do what?" Rune boggled peering into the eyes of the other child. "Hey! Your my height, sorta" she commented, completely losing all train of thought. The boy looked back at her and appeared confused. "How'd you do that?" he repeated. Since the attention of the moment was on the skull, Rune considered the options and figured he was asking about her magic. Afterall when considering options its important to take the most obvious one. "Oh, Thats my magic. Its no big deal really. You see I can write stuff and then things happen. But I mispell alot of things so it usually turns out wrong." She giggled nervously. "Im not really sure what all I can do, so I just try somethin and sometimes it works and sometimes nothing happens. I can make ice cream tho, want some??" She pranced around in place at the rememberance of such an important ability and then beamed proudly as she waited for a response. The group continued to peer at the skull, waiting for someone to make a move. Had the skull simply changed color because of the magic but remained a crow's skull? or did something different happen. Would this be a key to unlocking the mystery? Even the children seemed to sense the concentration of the others on the object and forgot about ice cream and magic for a moment. Everyone was focused on what was going to happen next.

Theres the spirit!

I kinda wanted to leave it as open ended as possible so that people could be creative. Its not a contest really, more of a theme..so there is no huge need to keep things grouped other than via a common theme. Part of the fun is seeing what people come up with! Guess its up to the masses, but my vote would be you can make it plural if you wanted. Here is the first one: click

Sure if you guys wanna do it that way I can edit the other post I made. Just lemme know.

Weekly Writing Theme - Spirit Deadline - 3/29. You may start submitting works at any time by replying to this thread. If the deadline passes and you still want to submit something you wrote that is fine too. It's mainly just to inform people when a new theme will be created. This isnt a contest, just a sort of creative exercise. Comments: Comments can be added to this thread as well in response to someone’s work. Just be sure to specify who's work you are commenting on. Questions: Questions about the theme should be limited, mainly because it is open ended. The word 'Spirit' can be interpreted in many ways, including non religion and fantasy ideas as well. It is up to you as the writer/artist to determine what you want to write about. The only requirement is that the word Spirit is the main theme of the piece in some manner or another. A new theme will be created on Friday of next week by me so be sure to look for it! If you have an idea for a future theme, drop me a PM. Ill add it to the list and just randomly pull them as the weeks go on. Remember the theme must be just one word. BTW This is entirely in development. If you have an idea to make it better just lemme know. Ill be glad to change it for however people want it.

Okie, ill set one up then.

I think the fact that you used so few words and forced yourself to concentrate on general objects but still managed to give such a deep and intense feeling to everything (including the air) is what made it so good.

Rune stumbles up to Zadown and indicates that she wants to tell em somethin, but he is alittle to tall for her to reach. He drops down to her height and she whispers in his ear "That was bloody brilliant!" before skipping back out of the room towards the kitchen in search of more gummis. Your ability to describe the elements around you (even when they are imaginary) amazes me Zadown. It is almost as though I can see every waking detail of what you were describing and the picture is so complete I can even fill in insignificant details with precision.

Happy Birthday!

"meep, Sorries" the little demon replied as she realized that her own interest in the situation had caused the ball to go cascading into Zariah’s foot. She looked up sheepishly. "No one ever really said anything before, so no news is good news and ill assume that you all want my help" Rune exclaimed, using the same logic she had used when doing her hair earlier, assuming that since no one said anything negative that it would be alright. She piped up with the final word in the proclamation. “It looks like things are dying” she said rather sadly. The others glanced towards her waiting for a response. She poked at the ground with her big toe for several moments. The others seemed eager. “well?” someone remarked. Rune shrugged. ‘I dunno, Im just pointing out what I know..which doesn’t appear to be very much.” She moved towards the group of people who now stared at her as though she were alittle crazy. “Well we already knew that Rune.” Someone else responded. “We need to find out what is killing them, and where, so we can stop it!” The room erupted into a flurry of hushed whispers and conversation all centered on the missing crows. “Well” she said, but no one heard her over their own conversations. “I have an idea” she semi shouted, but once again was ignored. Huffing to herself she moved towards the window and looked out. It was nearing night at the pen keep and the moon was shinning brightly overhead. She propped her chin up on her hands and looked out into the open air dreamily. Several birds flew by, carefree in flight and seemingly unaware of the danger that had befallen their distant cousins. Lighting streaked across the sky in the distance as a low rumble of thunder could be heard. Rune sighed. “I wonder whats going on” she remarked to herself. “Its sad when things die before they are supposed to. I hope we can stop it soon.” She drew a tiny picture of a crow in the air using her pinky finger. The smoky remnants of where her finger had traced remained suspended in mid air for a few moments before animating and taking flight around her head and then into her ear before disappearing. She giggled at her own magic and then was lost in a semi day dream while the others conversed. Outside the rain began to fall. The soft patter of raindrops on the metal and wooden surfaces of the pen keep created a symphony unmatched by even the most skilled musicians in existence. Its simplicity created an illogical complex of notes and chords as the forest creatures joined in on the performance. Several raindrops fell on her nose from overhead, snapping her back to reality and the urgency of the situation at hand. “Hey!” she shouted. This time gaining attention from the party. “How do we know the skulls are really the crows?” she asked. The others looked at her and appeared confused. “Well because we have seen them, and they are skulls Rune.” Someone remarked. “But how do we know they are REAL skulls?” she asked. “Don’t you think someone would have noticed some blood or some feathers or heard something if someone was killing crows?” Her simple logic stunned the crowd. “I mean, this is the pen. This place is magic, there are people and eyes almost everywhere here. Maybe these skulls arnt real, maybe they are something else. She walked over to the skull that was now sitting on the table. Drawing a circle around it with her finger she then began to scribe something into the air in an older arcane language. Suddenly the tiny skull turned bright pink and little balloons and sparks began to go off in the room. “Oops!” she giggled. I think I spelled it wrong, she quickly corrected the mistake with a wave of her hand the festivities disappeared. “I meant to spell reveal but I forgot the a” She shrugged. Suddenly the skull began to shake violently before turning black. The crowd gathered around to investigate.

OOC: Please view comments here

Hmm, interesting concept..to think of the future as a window and the past as a door. Even more interesting is to think of the future as a stained glass window..because to me it reminds me of a sort of warped image that is colorful and bright when in reality behind the glass is the same things as a normal window. Also to consider light as society or even an uncontrollable force such as an accident or someone who has direct control over you life. The light warps the image through stained glass window..either creating a nice effect with colors and graphic intensity (something good happening) or a negative effect like hurting your eyes or whatnot (something bad happening). Great poem, Thank you for sharing! (TYFS!)

Families that are split apart for whatever reason tend to have warped and twisted views of the children that were a product of the relationship that has now gone sour. Its often ironic to think that adults can be so childish, not to allow themselves to view a person for who they are..but for what they remind them of. Its similiar to the child who's older brother is the perfect athelete and as a result the child gets pushed towards the same path. You have a gift of putting very tense and unique subjects into poetry Master Devin. As hard as it is to read at times because of the subjects, I never regret it once I do. Thank you for sharing! (TYFS!)

Suicide poems tend to be one in a thousand. I think because most of us go through the struggle of is life worth living at least once in our lives. This one on the other hand was impressive not only because of the imagery and emotion that can be felt through it which seems to make the act of death to be something grand..but the final statement which suddenly snaps the reader back to reality and the end result of the act. Amazing as always. ^__^ Thank you for Sharing! (TYFS!)

Congrats to all!

Rune yawns and stretches slightly. She groans in a rather high pitched mousy voice while performing the wake up ritual. “Wake up, wake up, time to get out of bed. Wake up, wake up, your a sleepy head.” She sings to herself as she pulls on her pants and then bends down to roll up the extra material that drags the ground. Making two complete folds she counts her toes to make sure they are all present. 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5! She beams at herself, proud of the accomplishment of keeping up with all her toes even when she was asleep. She heads over towards the washroom and doesn’t make it 20 paces before the folds she had just expertly made unravel causing her to trip slightly. She splashes her face with cool clean water and then washing her hands and feet she dries them on an old dirty towel and picks up a hairbrush that has only around half of its bristles. She brushes her hair straight and then makes two tiny nubbins behind each of her horns. She turns around so that the back of her head faces the only mirror in her room. “How sit look?” She asks and then waits patiently for a response. “Does it look bad?” She questions again when no one answers. “Great!” she finally says, drawing the simple conclusion that someone would have said something if it looked bad. She didn’t consider the fact that no one was actually in the room but that was beside the point. --------------------------------------------------------------- "Mmmm grumbubumble.” “Meep!” Rune exclaims, before patting her tummy. “Goodness..I must be pretty hungry to be making that much noise. I wonder if I can find some candy!” She scampers out of the room and towards the kitchen but in passing notices that there is some activity in the Cabaret Room. Being the nosey little demon that she is, she pokes her head into the room from behind the door and watches with some interest before slipping in rather unnoticed due to her height. Walking up behind Zariah she pulls on her clothing to get her attention. “Cuse me, Miss?” Zariah looks toward her, a bit confused. “Um, Is that your bird? Cause if it is.. I just wanted to say it’s really nice. And if it isn’t.. then I just wanted to ask if you realized what a nice bird that was.” She points towards the creature which looks at her with interest. Her tiny finger barely making a point, due to its size..and well.. length. Her attention then turns to the others in the room. She blinks at all the new faces. “Goodness, did I sleep that long?” she asks, perplexed. Zariah explains once more the cause of alarm and Rune listens with fevered interest. “I want to help!” She exclaims. “I am really good at detective stuff like this! I promise!” She looks around hoping for approval from the others. While waiting she bites her lip in anticipation and stands with her left foot on her right. Her pants hang on her hips and occasionally she bends down to pull them back up.

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Thanks! Now the comments are here and people can ramble on if they want.

This is a true story, with a bit of artistic liscense thrown in to make it interesting when it was otherwise dull. The names were even left the same with the exception of my grandfather..Whose name does not appear in the story. This is mainly because I never knew him and it is custom not to speak directly of a relative one has not met by first name but rather by title in my family. You can say "my Grandfather was there", but not "Albert was there" and so on and so on. BTW: I will edit this story from time to time to correct grammer/re-word things. So if you spot something that doesnt look right drop me a PM. Could a Mod split the topic and move it to the Critics Corner? Steps in, waves his magic wand. It shoots sparks and nothing happens. Muttering about Ancient equipment, waves it again. The commentary magically splits from the story. As you wish. Pats the Pen's Lillest Demoness on the head fondly.

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Yep! The secrets of the pen have been unlocked for you Wren, welcome to the "write" side. (get it, welcome to the dark side? eh?? get it? *giggles*)

Ooo It was soo good! The images you painted are breathtaking! *swoons* There are some minor things that could use some refining I think, to make it even better (if that were possible) If you really like this poem, you could post it in the workshop to get some critical feedback and rewrite it a few times. I think the subject is wonderful, and the over all feel of the poem is unique. *sighs* i wish it were a story. ^__^

Pleas all you had to do was breath. <-- should be Please Having been in a similiar situation..I think you capture the mood well. The intense feeling of hopelessness of just trying to get someone to breath and live..when they are dead and cold. It also has a certain tinge of endearment which subtly lets the reader know the person attempting to revive the victim has strong feelings for them..without throwing it into your face and focusing on the wrong thing in the poem. Thank you for sharing, It was very good.

The half buried person in all of us wants to leave their cages.. You captured the secret well and reminded me of how well I know that person within me. Great poem, the structure seems alittle akward to me.. I almost had to stumble through it. I think the subject is good, and the wording is good.. but it feels like it either needs more wording per line..or a different line structure.