cryptomancer

I laugh at the thoughts of evil intent, That glistening of conscious meandering, Tempting us to thwart the plans of beauty’s design. I laugh at the thoughts of evil intent, That crept along my side in clawed grace Finding purchase at the edges of my will’s mind. I laugh at the thoughts of evil intent, That glistening of the blood on my hands, The beauty of life draining away without a sound. ……… Walk again beside my heart, Mounted on a rowan staff, Its beating still since my depart, My voice lost in your final laugh. Drag my teeth across your throat, Necklace threaded through with leather, The blow shattered my jaw as it smote, Freeing my soul from its earthly tether. My skin crawls over your shadowed back, Nothing more than a stained cloak, Life and blood and warmth it’s lack, Though your love of that you never spoke. .........

Sabastian excused himself from the ever shifting group, he was getting tired of the constant sympathies, and the fact that so few were truely sincere was annoying him. Moving to one of the many seats he sat and relaxed a little, still watching the crowd, listening for snippets of conversation that may end up being usefull. Ideas of the strengths that various candidates had lead him to weigh them against each other. Sawall may have had favour with Jarin, yet he doubted a second from the same house would be selected so soon. Assassination was always such a blatant indicator that the selection was a mistake. He needed allies in this, Jarin left too many enemies, even if it was just one, he died for the error. There were the houses that had always supported Sawall, but most would be out for their own adenda now, the smaller houses made more sence to woo, as they had most to gain from a strong ally.

Sabastian smiled with Samantha as she spoke, his eyes studying hers as he tried to find any hint of suggestion there that she was hiding something from him. But controlled as she always was she gave nothing away. Sabastian just laughed as she suggested the game was just starting, "Samantha, it really does depend on the nature of what you consider the true game. Unfortunately for Jarin the game was in full swing as he took his last steps. Personally Jarin and I had been playing the game against each other well before this and really do hope that Sawall does not declare a vendetta against anyone this time." Samantha looked slightly startled at the suggestion, but hid it quickly, Sabastian noted the shift in her eyes. "It is not often that they do, but he was rather highly favoured, and will be a loss to the house significant enough to at least have them discuss the possibility of all out revenge." smiling, Sabastian lowered his voice, "I would like to find those responsible for elliminating Jarin and thank them for clearing my path. If that is, I thought I would be safe enough talking to them, as vendettas do tend to increace animosity rather too much." Sabastian grinned, his eyes sparkling enough to interest Samantha in passing on his suggestion as rumour. He could then let the usual whispers do the rest, he would find the assasin soon enough, then he could really start to play.

Samantha joined the group beside him, graceful as ever. Sabastian moved to stand beside her, not too close as to be presumptious of her attention, but close enough to be noticed. Her pleasent conversation was charming as ever, so light as to be noticed as wonderfully friendly, brilliant in the simple way she spun her words to flatter and appeal to all she spoke to. Sabastian waited, he had pateince to spare for Samantha, he wanted to know her thoughts on Jarins death, she always seemed closest to the truth than the normal rumour, she had friends and family that just lived for the gossip and picked up on more than most would normally hear.

Sabastian watched the crowd move around him, acknowledged the sympathies of those that offered them, for the loss of a family member. It was of little real concern, he had grown up watching the race to ally and survive in this place, Jerin had been the obvious choice ahead of himself, and his selection to become regent had proved this. Pity his ability to pick allies carefully had failed him. The rumour mill had begin its task of speculation and was working to blame all the usual enemies of Sawall. He expected more though, fingers pointed in most directions and the ones pointing were always on the top of his list. He knew who to watch.

Sabastian of house Sawall. Early 30s, trained mostly in sorcery. Dark hair, fair complection, and pale blue eyes. He knows his looks are appealing, and his manner suggests he will use it if needed. Arrogance born of a pure bloodline, and trained in diplomacy, he was the only choice really to enter the running as a candidate. Alternate form is a slender but tall shadow with ice blue eyes.

Someplace in a dark void of retail a shadow moved, condenced and poped out of voidal existance, only to reappear moments later in the conservatory. After a few glances at the past games, the shadow moved to the latest signup thread. It was the distraction of the large dog greeting Tanny that made the shadow reach into the shadowy folds of a dark shadowy cape and pull out a shadowy book of dark and shadowy reminders and notes from many moments of the shadowy watching of people from the shadows........ "Tanny, Birthday" was what the shadowy notes in the shadowy book read. The book disapeared as shadows do into the shadow that was the dark shadowy cape. The shadow took a small step forward......"um.... excuse me..... tanny...." Tanny turned from Azuran's greeting and saw shadow. The shadow moved, shifted, shrank, and........... POP!!!! The shadowed vanished into the laughing form of the Raven as he began circling around Tanny singing, (in the harsh but not totally plesant voice of a Raven,) the song of many greetings and well wishes for birthdays. Happy birthday Tanny, hope it is a good one.

Fashion's altered beauty shines, From pages of flesh and rippling hair, Wind kissed deity of gloss and despair, Carried to hearts that share the greed. Fashion's altered beauty shines, Each turn a dervish of distraction, Each word a subtle retraction, This is not what you really see. Fashion's altered beauty fades, As age takes it's 18th year's toll Old as a youth ever could be sold, In the embrace of materialistic air. "I once kissed her soft demise" Wow*stunned* this still going?

can i still join, i need a distraction from the world for a moment? please, *does a very twitching and hidious attempt at bambi eyes at Gryphon*

(We got a small low causing rain warnings over the top of the island. *grins*)

Drifting shifting mist Droplets of the early day Clarity creeps in ……… Hilltop vantage point Scattered showers today Racing each other ……… Cover camera Sit under the umbrella Rain disrupting shot ……… Parking out of rain Just opening the car door Water drips down neck ………

Watches weather map Depression getting closer I want a cyclone

Lost to the wonder of the stars, Alone to wander the night. My soul tied to you in bows, Each one plaited with my love’s plight. I set my heart to fly, Night sips upon my blood, Each beat of a lonesome heart, Echoes in a turbulent flood. I was the vessel of my muse I danced the joy of her touch. Each fiber flayed and floating free, A tattered soul that loved too much. Whisper my loving dreams to me, Tell me my mumbled poems of sleep, Until we together the evening hold, My being, incomplete shall weep. [raven]

Points to any that can do justice to this style, I struggle with it, i just find it frustratingly restrictive. beautifully written though, i like.

There is a small blur of movement in the corner as the Raven attempts to hide the camera, while concealing a blush with his wings. *Hugs Phoenix* Thank you.

thanks mynx. i like this lots, it fun, just annoyingly addictive. ooc: mynx gave me hints when i was stuck and frustrated by the little men

through all things we do to the contary, love someehow still survives. i really like this. thank you

i love this. two paths, held in the hand as marbles, each a globe, a world that could be if chosen, i love this a lot, the simple choice and the perils of not knowing the right choice, hoping you are right, fearing you are not. simply put, wonderfully written. thank you

....beep.... ....it is such a simple thing really.... ....beep.... ....shouldn't take you long to fix.... ....beep.... ....you should have done it months ago.... ....beep.... ....it is after all a rather important part in our.... ....beep.... ....alarm system, that we have still been.... ....beep.... ....paying you for even though it has not been.... ....beep.... ....working for the last five months.... ....beep.... ....when can you come fix it?.... ....beep.... ....you need to call head office for approval.... ....beep.... ....but that is what you said five.... ....beep.... ....months ago when i first called you.... ....beep.... ....click.... ....beep.... ....turn the music up again.... ....beep.... ooc: five months of intermitant beeping from a part of our alarm system that is mulfunctioning, and still not fixed. and i am polite to them..... really..... [ducks a pm from the elders as they move post to more pg13 place in the pen]

No halo lights my brow my love, There are no wings of white on me. My shoulders bear the feathers of black, That mark my human mortality. No harp nor lyre my hands caress, Your soft skin is all they know. My gaze is not by heavens lit, For the colour of your eyes is all they show. My heart and soul lay open, Each beating breath caressed by your view. You gaze at me and call me angel, Then I am an angel, and my goddess is you.

A new and strange sound is heard drifting through the great halls of the Pen Keep. High above the castle, a small speck suddenly begins to grow, the speck fast becoming the plummeting form of the Raven. Through a stroke of sheer luck the avian poet misses the wall as he attempts to swoop through the gates, his zigzagging flight taking him into the keep and into the door of the banquet room. There is a moment of silence as the occupants of the room wonder at the thump that just disrupted their writing. The door slowly opens, and the hooded form of the Cryptomancer steps into the room, gently rubbing his bruised head as he scans the room. In the far back corner of the rafters he spots who he is looking for. Then slowly turns and leaves the room. Just as the door creaks softly closed a small bolt of black enters the room, accelerating as he begins to circle just below the rafters, and just above the heads of most. In a singular movement the Raven vanishes into the shadows of the roof, the rafters echo with a loud thud, followed by a lot of flapping and squawking, and a ball of black and orange feathers landing on the floor in the corner. As the deep red/orange pile of feathers gathers itself together and takes the form of a rather large bird, the Raven begins a spiraling flight path through the room once again, his voice echoing all the chattered suggestions for introductions that need to be made and people to find, and places to show his friend. The phoenix watches as the Raven spins through the air towards the corner, growing and landing as the crouched form of the Cryptomancer. Cryptomancer offers his arm. “Phoenix, welcome, fantastic to see you here. Come let me introduce you.” After Phoenix takes the offered arm as a perch, Cryptomancer stands and walks to the door, the final remark of the poet as the pair head for the cabaret room drifts to the ears of those that listen…. “Could you watch the talons, I don’t have my glove on.”

naked eyes shiver as the rain begins to dry, each ember fusing the lids apart, my emotive reasoning empty and false, the pain of flames dancing in my pulse. like in songs of old the rain hid my tears, a soulless void without a heart, my rational mind rages with selfish fallacy, eyes filling with the green tears of jealousy. woken by the touch of hope and a joyful day, each stopped heartbeat impacts a start, my soul knows the truth of the world we walk, each kissed word exchanged each time we talk. threads of fabric torn in the rain

Sight, the art of capture without touch, The dream of knowing, without needing to hold. I beheld beauty in forms aplenty, Seeking the depths from which beauty arose. I held in my hands the cool metal body, As I captured the warmth from my subject's pose. Each shadow a kiss lost to the blinking, Each click a whisper of my heart's brightened void. Shutter and flash illuminate the empty, Aperture and lens magnifying the joy. To capture an image that tells me gently, Speaks the visions I long to view. I drink to the wisdom that taugh me to focus, And showed to my heart the image of you.

thank you all!!! thank you very very much for your greetings and well wishes. i dont feel so old any more.

..... request of the artic gods of mayhem, a favour, in the form of a small glacier, which would extend from his left nostril to his right cheek, freeze his eyebrow, and drip melt water into his mostach" ......