Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Merelas

Herald
  • Posts

    649
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Merelas

  1. Here's the second draft: The Sky at Night Hear the massive blowing of the wind outside—it’s snowing— and the night as it glistens with whiteness in my sight. Flakes falling falling falling and the windsong is calling While the clouds obscure the sky—I cannot see though I try To see the stars overhead in a symphony of light. The moon slowly circling in its white, white pale Circling the snow that is falling in this gale… A gale of the snow that swirls as it twirls down below. Below the sky that’s covered by the clouds from the cupboard Of God or mother nature cloaking all the earth in white. The whiteness that is freezing from the clouds that are teasing Covering the sky that I cannot see, though I try tonight. Because the sky to me is calling as the stars seem to be falling In a parody of snowflakes crawling on the ground. The wind will pull and push them—make them sway all around. And the sky from me is hidden as this ray of white surrounds— All I want, all I wish, all I desire from this night Is a glimpse of the sky in a symphony of light. Because the light never fails and the snow rarely falls But tonight it assails my vision of the falls— The falls and the throne and the swan and the crone Arranged in their glory; always have they shone From above in a gloriously sumptuous sight But tonight, oh tonight—the snow and clouds prevail And my eyesight must fail in attempting to perceive The glorious reprieve granted to me each and every eve. Because the sky at night in its symphony of light Makes me think that each symphony has guide: A conductor that will lead it through the audience’s pride. My faith is restored by the sky at night. During the day, I have nothing. No faith by which to walk. My path is unlit. My way is dark. I cannot think of a conductor, wordlessly guiding the Universe—from the cosmos of constellations enthroned in majesty looking down upon us to my very step. But the sky at night! How it restores my faith on sight. And yet the clouds of snow cover it tonight.
  2. Also, I'm assuming you'll tell us Finnius/Luke's role in the official lynch post?
  3. *is tacklehugged yet again!* I pm'ed Yui responses, but school is good, I'm fine, and I missed you all Happy to see you still alive and... heh... kicking, Ayshela.
  4. “You whore! You little slut! One more incident like that and I’m going to bind your knees together with barbed wire--you understand me, trollop?” The girl only sobbed as her grandfather shoved her back into her bedroom, followed her in, and slammed the door. “What the hell is the matter with you? You sick, twisted, whore-of-Babylon! If I ever catch you with that boy again, I will take your head in my hands and twist it so hard that your neck will simply break! Do you understand me?” Her only reply came in gasping, teary sobs. The old man strode across to the bed where she had fallen and roughly grabbed her face with both hands. “Do you understand me?!” When she didn’t respond, he released her face, and turned as if to leave. He turned again just as suddenly and brought the back of his hand hard across her face. The blow knocked her over on the bed. “I asked you a question, slut. Answer me!” He grabbed her by the shoulders, sat her up, and hit her again. A splash of red sprang up on her cheek where his ring had crossed her fair flesh. She nodded, still sobbing, her eyes puffy and red. The man stood silent for a moment, looking down upon her. The only sound that filled the room were her sobs and gasps for breath between sobs. She wanted to turn away from him and bury her face in her pillow. She wanted to turn up the ends over her ears with her face in the middle, crying into the floral pattern on the case. I can’t do that…it will only make him angrier. He wanted to throw her back onto the bed and rip off her clothes. He wanted to teach her a lesson for her impurity—swapping spit with that plowboy. He wanted to tie her wrists and ankles to the bedposts and ravage her; that would teach her the error of her ways. I can’t do that…she might tell her mother, and then I’ll be fucked. They moved at the same time. She stood, and he reached down to gather her into his arms. They collided, her chest against his head. Her eyes widened as she braced herself for another slap, but it never came. He laughed. He laughed slowly, quietly at first, and then harder. Eventually, he sat down on the bed, and she sat next to him. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, and her head tilted in to rest in the crook of his neck. His other hand reached up to brush her hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ears. “I’m s-sorry, grandpa.” She stuttered as she spoke, trying desperately to calm the sobs and gasping for air. “I know, pumpkin. I know.” He tussled her hair, and kissed her forehead. They sat like that for twenty minutes until she finally stopped crying. The old man stood to go, and was almost at the door. “Grandpa?” “Hmm?” “Tell me the story?” “Which one?” ~*~ To be continued…
  5. Well, seeing to the fact that I still have 1.5 weeks at my disposal and a little extra cash lying around, I was thinking it might be time to purchase me a new brain-rotting, eye-popping, homework-completion-preventing device: namely, a game. Consoles that I could shop for are: PC, X-BOX, PS2. If you have a recent acquisition that you absolutely love, I would love to hear about it. Consequently, a friend recently told me about a new title called Vanguard. It's one of those MMORPG's, I think, but it sounded interesting regardless (I haven't been much for them in the past, but if there was a really good one to hook me I might consider it). Anyway, advice? Also, if you bought something and really regret it, warn me off of titles, too . Thanks all!
  6. Bene finally wandered out of the street and back to the makeshift church that Father Callahan had set up in the Calla. He found the closet with the cleaning supplies and looked around to make sure that no one was watching. Finally, when he was sure, he lifted up the loose floorboard there and got the pouch he had hidden. Tian... wolves... lost moons... Father Callahan... the ka-tet... Bene bit down on a piece of devilgrass, and the tick in his left eye finally went away. Sweet escape... OOC: NO VOTE.
  7. (my first impulse was ring, but we just did that, so... ) Steel
  8. That's not what I was looking at before; thank you much!
  9. Congrats, Lilac. Hope you find yourself at home here
  10. It does indeed. Also, is there anyone that could post/reference a "terminology/vocabulary" document? I went through the link that tanny posted but I had some trouble navigating. I did find a terms page for the Wolves of Calla, but that had a very few terms in it. Mostly about priests and something about opening one's heart to others. Any suggestions?
  11. I HAVE FRIDAYS FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS! I'M ON SPRING BREAK!!! Huzzah.
  12. Bene woke to sounds of sobbing, squeals of fear, and hushed talking. Father Callahan was nowhere to be seen, and so he wandered outside and saw the crowd a ways off. They were surrounding something, and he couldn't tell what it was. He walked towards the group of people gingerly, anticipating reprisal and the ugly looks he always got from people that didn't like him. It was then that they pulled the body towards the cart. Bene knew he wasn't halucinating anymore. It was this sight that made him sure of that, because the tick in his left eye was back. His chest tightened and he thought of the devilgrass he had stored in the loose floorboard in his room, where Father Callahan shouldn't find it. Bene turned away from the sight, and stood alone in the street. He closed his eyes, but the muscle in his left eye wouldn't quit. He reached up for it and covered it, wandering about aimlessly. Heckles came from somewhere, but he was used to that by now. He took the string he always kept in his pocket and started to chew on it. Where was Father Callahan? Couldn't someone explain to him what had happened?
  13. The colors were so bright... the path was iridescent, shining in a rainbow of a walkway. Bene stumbled along, passed a door on his right, and out of flew an enormous wildcat, as tall as the house from which it had emerged. Bene screamed and ran forward, only to trip and fall. His face plowed into the (at that moment) violet pathway and the friction scraped the skin from his cheek. The wildcat was bearing down upon him, his nose low to the ground and sprinting quickly, paws moving wildly. There was no way that Bene would outrun the cat. He glanced back to see the cat right on his heels. But wait a moment... it didn't look like a cat. It was on all four legs but it was just wearing an old wildcat's skin. It was thrown over his back like a cloak, and underneath... it was all red. Red as blood. It grabbed his ankle with a hand enveloped in a white glove, and threw off the skin. It was a blood red robe with white furry trim and he was enormous! His beard was white and fell down well past his waist, but Bene couldn't understand how he moved! His stomach was huge. The gloved hand held his ankle and he shifted forward... rolled forward, really... and prepared to take a bite out of his calf. Bene broke out in a high-pitched, incredulous scream. It's the Santa thing! Callahan told me about the Santa thing and now it's going to eat me!, he thought. Bene sent a swift heel into the face of the corpulent man, and he reeled away, missing teeth and blood gushing from his nose. Bene ran again, only to fall. The path had evolved into a stream, and it was very deep. He tried to swim it, but the more he paddled the more he stayed in one place. Water buffeted his face--every time he moved he kicked up more and more of it, and it seemed to hover in the air as droplets. But that wasn't very important--in front of Bene in the stream was a small fish with teeth glinting everywhere, zinging towards him as fast as he had ever seen a fish move. Bene grabbed it and threw it out of the stream, only to find it replaced by another, and another. They were swarming around him now, and they started digging into his flesh with their razor fangs which grew larger as more of the fish appeared. The fish were huge now, with fangs two inches long and sharp as knives. Bene was still screaming hysterically, incoherently, as he climbed out of the stream and ran along it. Eventually, Bene toppled into the grass. He sat, hovering, sobbing uncontrollably as Father Callahan approached. The father shook his head at him, and helped him up on his feet. It was then that he noticed Roland and his company. Roland was missing his whole right hand--the hand was cut off at the wrist, and blood was spurting everywhere. Bene couldn't take his eyes off of his bloody stump of an arm. Father Callahan seemed embarrassed by this, and was trying to drag him away. Roland raised his arm towards his face, as though to put his non-existent fist to his forehead. The blood poured over his body, covering him from head to toe... spurt-spurt; spurt-spurt; spurt-spurt. It hung on him like a crimson drape that had been thrown over him, completely obscuring his features. And all the while, Bene was screaming and clawing at his face. Eventually, he gave in to Father Callahan, and was dragged away.
×
×
  • Create New...