Skin Deep [Full]Skin Deep
Disorder"What do you do?
Participate in our prompts given out every Friday. Submit your piece and it could be featured here!
Bleak ProspectBleak ProspectBleak Prospect by Michel-le-fou
A Tale of the Coming Apocalypse
Chapter One. The Visit
One mid-afternoon in Washington, District of Columbia, at the famous Smithsonian Institute, while Clifford and Puabi Rogers were organizing data in Clifford’s office, they received a sudden and unexpected visit from their aide de camp Monica Campbell1. Monica Campbell carried a well-stuffed shoulder bag and announced at the gate that she needed urgently to see Clifford Rogers. The watchman admitted her immediately and someone met her at the door and brought her to Clifford Rogers’ office. In the beginning, they all were happy to meet each other again after their last caper2. Monica Campbell asked them about their health as a good friend.
“Hello, Mister Rogers!”
“Hello, Miss Campbell. What a pleasure to meet you again.”
“Indeed. How is your health, lately?”
The Seal of DagonThe Seal of DagonThe Seal of Dagon by Michel-le-fou
In the late summer of 2015, a trolley of six fishermen sailing off the coast of Maine and New Hampshire found something strange in their net. Certainly, they were puzzled by it; so they notified the local coast guards by radio. A few hours later, the coast guards boarded a boat and headed over to the trolley to examine the find. The investigators found a small stone slab about four feet long, of unknown material, with strange hieroglyphs or old symbols inscribed upon it. Because they were as puzzled as the fishermen, they headed ashore in Maine and sent it to Smithsonian Institute, in Washington, District of Columbia, by EMS.
In July, that year, the Smithsonian Institute was receiving new expertise in various departments. Among these new experts were a few who claimed to possess data on the expected Apocalypse, and some with knowledge of the occult. Two applicants for the department of Occult Artifacts received special attention. One
A Dream Comes TrueA Dream Comes TrueA Dream Comes True by Michel-le-fou
Dictated by Puabi
Lying close together
In each others arms,
Our lunch of love devoured,
Our two passions inflamed,
Our breaths mingle into one stream,
Minds and hearts united as one,
Divine unity perfected.
No talk of separation.
My dream of lasting love comes true.
Until the faint glow of dawn,
He vows to always be near.
Those who I met before,
Riding stallions, sailing ships,
Now all are phantoms of my memory;
Only he is there.
Only youAnother day passes slowlyOnly you by MorganWolfram
Life keeps on fading quietly
My years have been spend worthlessly
With no feeling fraternity
I walk my way solemnly
Make my path formally
All eyes lay on me respectfully
I'm treated like the great solely
But I owe them back disgracefully
I put them aside disdainfully
I whip my worries mercilessly
I am a powerful weapon ultimately
But my bullets are stunned by you so suddenly
Your Kindness shoed away my troubles so charmingly
You helped me upon my feet willingly
You expected nothing back unconditionally
From that moment my mind was on you individually
Even with all the fuss; you smile caringly
Pain was caused and you suffered sensitively
But you said regrets will go gradually
I don't care if there is no money surprisingly
You changed me astonishingly
I won't let a burden fall on you, even mistakenly
How can you be so gentle admiringly?
Don't hesitate to hold my hand tightly
But please keep smiling constantly
My eyes shall remain for you promisingly
I shall love
Scorched 1.1The moment the train stopped, she rushed out of her seat, ran out of the door, pushed her way through the morning crowd, and sprinted to the University. It was just her luck that her train broke down the day of an important exam. She wound up taking a different train which came later than its arrival time. Her eyes were fixed on her watch and her hand was securely on her book bag.Scorched 1.1 by Erin-Lynne
"What happened this time?" the receptionist asked Prishe as the Asterian burst through the doors of the University. She didn't look up from the desk but Prishe could hear the shuffling of papers as if she was reaching for something.
The young Asterian laughed uneasily and signed in. "The train broke down. I can't talk; I've got to get to class!" she replied, darting down the hall.
She took the stairs, figuring that they would be faster, but was quickly flooded by students. She was determined, however. She had never been late before and she wasn't about to start. Not caring who she plowed by, she continued tak
Scorched P.1She woke abruptly to the beginning of her favorite song—a loud, energetic low-brass song—and fell out the chair of her desk. She hit her head on the side of her bed and had knocked over several sheets of paper which were now littered around her. A groan passed her lips as she removed her headphones. The light in the room made her eyes sting until they adjusted. Her blueprints, essays, and medicine homework were on top of her bare legs, making her nerves tingle.Scorched P.1 by Erin-Lynne
After sitting in the odd position for a while, she took a glance at her watch. It was going to be a couple of hours before her regular alarm would go off. She sighed, stiffly collected her work, set them aside, and got up. Every muscle in her back and legs were screaming at her, but she paid little attention to it as she yawned and stretched.
She sat on her bed next to her work and stared at the walls for a while, collecting her thoughts. She would have classes today, and her work needed to be done, That way she woul
Rise of JERICO-- ProloguePrologueRise of JERICO-- Prologue by Erin-Lynne
The room was silent as he sat there, reading his book intently. A few candles were lit around the room, casting an eerie shadow across the figure. Two years he had spent in solitude, never leaving his mansion, since the end of the of the war. He rarely came in contact with people, unless it was one of the AMBROS prisoners that needed to be punished. Everyone who knew of him feared him; he treated none with mercy.
His name was Viare.
Lightning flashed outside as the rain began to patter on his window. He put his book down when he heard a metal ping of a kicked gate outside. He stood to his feet and looked outside his window to see a man with soaked, fiery red hair jump off the barrier gate. Viare curled a slight smile on his face. “Again? When will he learn?” he murmured to himself. He turned from the window and left his room.
The guards were startled by his presence. “Send the hounds. It seems our guest hasn’t been broken in. Bring him back
.upon surrender..upon surrender..upon surrender. by Amanda-Graham
... only she knows ...
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
touch stones without remark tumbled
one after another
no clack of disapprovals shed
one after another
as though i were an insult though they never spat me out
as though i were a crime they'd committed in dead of night
as though i were several different outfits now out on consignment
as though I were the dog who barked at a breaking
Adobe Slabs: Segment 8Adobe Slabs: Segment 8 by MPhlox
The other day, Billy had asked M if he could borrow his computer since his own phone's capabilities were rather limited. M didn't see why not and didn't even venture to ask why. But he'd been on the computer more and more frequently. M couldn't help but be a bit curious about Billy's seemingly sudden obsession with email.
Halfway through another passionate argument between M and Mags (Mags was winning), Billy exclaimed, "Really??"
"Sorry, I'll tell her to keep it down," M said to Billy. He turned to Mags and whispered, "look, you have to know when you're wrong; the Pink Soldier is way better than the Red Soldier."
"No, it's not you. I'm just--I'm, uh." Billy looked at the two of them playing with Soldier plushies and then back at the computer screen, "I've been, like, looking at other apartments in the area-ish, y'know, and it's hella frustrating."
Ah, so that's what he'd been up to.
So it became a thing that whenever Bil
Adobe Slabs: Segment 6Adobe Slabs: Segment 6 by MPhlox
Okay so the place wasn't exactly the cleanest it had ever been.
It might've had the faint residual smell of diapers. And there were still some of Mags' things scattered here and there.
But hey! Their toilet was the most sparkling shining perfection this side of the city. M even debated setting up some scented candles.
Surely Ms. Reyna, Billy's mom, would understand though. About the state of the apartment, not the lack of scented candles. Although those still seemed like a pretty good idea. "We have time, don't we?"
“For what?” Billy was in the midst of wiping off Mags’ face after her breakfast as M shuffled through the cleaners below the kitchen sink.
He didn’t know what half of them were for; Ema bought him a separate cleaner for each and every surface in the apartment. He finally came across a multi-purpose cleaner that he had bought back when he moved in to the place last year and set it on top of the counter. “To t
Shroomy and her Melancholy state of AffairsForward from this: http://hebbybobdige.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d5hapii sceneShroomy and her Melancholy state of Affairs by Hebbybobdige
Okay let's discuss Shroomy and her completely un-endearing un-cheerful and un-attractive state of affairs. Firstly you must realise that Shroomy's life was far more dismal than most. Those at her school find her (in their own words) a 'skanky, ugly, creepy little bug-eyed weirdo'
You see when somebody isn't what you would consider 'normal' people have a tendency to ridicule or be afraid of this person. Shroomy being no exception to this, she would spend her time at school sat alone on a table muttering strange things to her only friend who was named 'Scarlett' and she could be seen only by Shroomy. Whilst the rest of the class formed their own, chattery little groups consisting mainly of people who would consider a scruffy, bug-eyed girl constantly whispering scary things to herself a strange sight indeed, therefore nobody wanted to talk to her.
You may or may not know that somebody who exists in
The Library on the Bayou - Part 1 It was only thirty minutes into Dr. Thurston’s Cultural Analysis of Ancient Languages lecture and the urge to sleep was already clawing at the edges of my mind. I’d been his Teaching Assistant for three semesters and grading during class had ceased to be interesting long ago. As I scanned through yet another paper of uninspired dross, my mind began to wander. The work that these students were asked to analyze fascinated me when I first read it five years ago, and the thought that I was using these ancient words to learn about a society that disappeared thousands of years ago was thrilling to the point of near-eroticism. Even more amazing to me at the time was the enigmatic gentleman who had personally found the runes now transcribed to the thin sheets of printer. Dr. Thurston and his work were the main reason I’d chosen to come to this university deep in the heart of Louisiana, where the climate, culture, and history all seemed so stifling. Now, the sligThe Library on the Bayou - Part 1 by TalesFromTheId
DepressionDear old friend, come lure me in,Depression by AlilliceMFC
Let me wish upon a star.
Never asking where you've been,
'Cause you never stray too far.
Show me faces that I've seen,
Feelings that I know too well.
You're never busy, never mean,
Make me buy each word you tell.
Dear friend, come closer down to me!
You're always with me in the shade.
You alone know what I see.
You're here, while all the others fade.
Now make me see I'm all alone,
You know how worthless I am then.
Point out my flaws they don't condone,
And those that I can't stand.
But don't stop yet, there's more to take!
You'll make me cease to strive.
I'll regret every choice I make,
And wonder why I'm still alive.
I don't know where to go from here,
You made me hate myself anew.
If I get through this, I'll once more swear,
never again to follow you!
Sleepless EnemyMy mind miss-gives to the darkness of a darkened heart,Sleepless Enemy by DarkLover33
suffering a consequence here that I do not see,
The thick of the air looms, chocking me.
With ebony's mists clouding already blind eyes,
constantly fighting an enemy of no true shape,
fear, for I do not know if I can ever escape.
Through a Mirror DarklyHow savage the mad, little yellow moonThrough a Mirror Darkly by Hussygirlfreak
To my soft eyes appears
And what imploring tears
Could compel a Bedlam beggar’s boon
From its eerie rage?
Even in its golden cage
It terrifies with filthy hands and croons
Reaching between bars
To tear the wings from stars
(‘Tis hardly a surprise that after dark
The inmate laughs the grave-dog’s bark).
Theatre!The Characters:Theatre! by BDancinJones
Dominique: An actor who plays the role of ‘Hero.’
Elizabeth: An actor who plays the role of ‘Villain.’
Jerilyn: An actor who plays the role of ‘Sidekick.’
Spectators 1+2: People watching the play.
Stage Manager: Someone who only speaks in stage directions
Writer: The writer of The Play.
Director: The director of The Play.
Reporter/Delivery Man: Brief one-off characters, tripled with Stage Manager
Director and Writer should be double-cast: use a simple costume difference to distinguish. Reporter/Delivery Man and Stage Manager should also be double cast; the costuming should be quite distinct between the characters, however, since it should not be perceived by the audience that Stage Manager is breaking his rule about only speaking in stage directions.
In the original production, the show’s lighting designer also operated a follow-spot during the shows, so when Stage Manager made a “witty joke at t
Why Are You Still With Him?In the dead hours of the early morning, Joseph sat impatiently on his sofa, frequently checking his watch to count the passing seconds. Clear irritation and anxiety frowned on his face. His foot pounded viciously against the hardwood floor. Then, the soft clicks of tumblers reached his ears and the front door slowly creaked open.Why Are You Still With Him? by thwackcrackers
A girl fumbled inside, clearly striving to muffle her own movements as she closed the door behind her with a soft thud and tiptoed her way towards the stairs. Joseph switched on the lamp next to him, eliciting a startled yelp from the girl.
"Do you have any clue what time it is?" Joseph nearly bellowed at her, digging his own fingers into his arms to sustain his rousing anger.
The girl whimpered at the force of her father's bludgeoning inquiry. Her hand masked the left side of her face, and her right leg pivoted in a way so that it just barely hid in the shadows behind her.
"It's late, I know." She said, just barely sealing away the gates of her own panic.
. rail .. rail .. rail . by Amanda-Graham
It’s a misnomer; an absent appliance, robbery of the worse sort. The bar’s not got one though named as though it would hold some premiere placement. In this city it should be gleaming brass and a minimum of two inches in diameter, rolled and shaped and bracketed along the styles and sheathing of a gleaming dark-polished wooden front-piece. It should be history. Misapplication and misdirection; the crumbling edifice is still maintained but slovenly; some miscreant remembrance of the sixties or seventies when people still believed a Jetsons™ future were possible. It carries its appellation based solely on location; nearby is a stop on the city’s trumpeted transport line, the “L".
“Fuck this Susan.” “Give it a chance.” “Really?” “Yeah, it’s not awful and some of the guys here are just too sweet.” I turn and stare openly,
PianoShe learned to play her pianoPiano by OnLinedPaper
When she was just but three -
Her songs were light, inspiring,
And always full of glee.
She lost a key when she was six,
Another’s she ‘came 8,
But never played them, anyway:
They were a kind of weight.
So she thought not upon them,
And instead, she let them go.
No need to have them take up space
For songs she didn’t know.
Her songs became more beautiful,
As she did, at fifteen,
But there came errors: body changed,
Mind same - she, caught between.
The boyfriend she picked was her first;
To him, she was his four.
And when he left, she was bereft -
3 more keys met the floor.
The songs she played were sad'ning, then,
And lacked their former grace.
The keys she dropped were happy keys -
Her fingers found but space.
In time, she learned to play around
The emptiness now there.
Her songs re-grew so beautiful,
That others weren’t aware:
The spaces that her mel’dy skipped
Still burned within her heart.
Her love and life, her hope and t
NeverLandMomma used to tell me I don't know how to tryNeverLand by justakid93
I don't know about that but I sure know how to cry
I'ma leave it all behind and take off to the sky
And rise until I die or immortalize in the sky
22 to LifeFor years I was locked away in the dungeon of you,22 to Life by justakid93
Shackled and chained with nothing to do.
Lost in the world, just waiting to die.
Thoughts of you were all that kept me alive.
I know I fucked up time after time after time,
But you never told me there'd be no rewind.
I've shed every tear that my walking corpse can spare.
Now I'm out on bail and I'm not going back, I swear.
Despair IIShe's the author of my painDespair II by justakid93
And the artist of my happiness.
The bringer of my youth
And the killer of my abstinence.
The killer of my innocence.
Who knew she wouldn't give a shit?
She hung me out to dry
Then she swam away to bigger things.
But in the end some bigger things
Are bittersweet like cinnamon...
Some roses really smell like poo...
Some pigs really grow wings...
Some pawns really become kings...
Thesaurus BusterI hereby declare a challenge for all who think themselves literarily proficient (writers included)! Our goal is to see what unique stories come out only using any given word once!Thesaurus Buster by Back-Off-I-Bite
No reusing words more than one time throughout whatever gets written down, including titles.
Variations on wording, like utilizing prefixes, suffixes, contractions, plurals, etcetera will be acceptable so long as they conform with previously stated stipulations.
Mind your articles and conjunctions, because those count too!
That said, grammatically correct sentence structures are not mandatory, but do reflect one’s general awesomeness or mastery over literacy.
There aren’t requirements about length. Just keep jotting things down until all the synonyms you can think up have been used.
Try foregoing poetry if possible; we wouldn’t want anyone getting away easily without getting some modest learning experience in first.
Texting slang/shorthand = writing sins.
Artwhat is art?Art by sharinqan
Is it nothing more than the endless search for a constant passion in order to block away the heavy problems and mistakes you’ve made?
And what is a piece of art but a constant reminder
that we're all only one brush stroke, pencil marking, or erase away from oblivion and downfall?
Is art just a way of expressing other’s emotions?
Or is it just a waste of time,
splattered onto a painting, paper, or even a sidewalk,
only to be washed away, thrown out, and forgotten?
Faded away, never to be seen again?
Art is made to stand the tests of time,
but for specifically… How long can it’s wave of creativity and inspiration truly last?
Does it stand proud forever, or vanish in a beautiful fashion?
What happens to their names and definitions in other’s minds…?
Is it nothing but a bunch of paint threw carelessly onto a surface with no meaning to show,
or does the art piece to them look like frequent beauty upon a canvas,
Husband!Nanase Haruka x Wife!Reader: Pool TimeHusband!Nanase Haruka x Wife!Reader: Pool Time by AmieClaryOwens
You watch your husband and children in the pool, your youngest child’s feet flying as Haru held his hands and gently pulled him across the water. At five years old, he was starting to learn to swim, and seemed to take after his father in the “only swim free” motto.
You turned your head to the other side of the pool. There, you saw your two older children fighting over something. Sighing, you stand up from your chairs and walk over to the two girls.
“MOM!” both girls yell at once, causing you to lean back and cover your ears.
“What is i-” you try to say, but are cut off.
“Umiko stole my blue sweater!” the older of the two cried.
“Did not! Nami’s lying! Don’t believe anything she says!” the younger one protested.
“Oh, I’M lying? Look who’s talking! You’re the lie fountain!”
You tuned out your
Kaneki Ken | RegretsKaneki Ken | Regrets by AmieClaryOwens
Kaneki Ken x Fem!Reader
I’m sorry I did this to you.
Changed you, warped you, damaged you.
If only I had never gone with Rize that night,
You’d still be you.
No cares on your soul.
I should have stayed away with you.
Severed the bond between us
Right after I found out
The monster I was.
The monster I am.
I was greedy.
I needed you.
Now more than ever.
I just couldn’t let go.
Then I changed.
I changed drastically.
I wasn’t the Kaneki you knew anymore.
The Kaneki you loved was gone.
Forever lost in a shattered mind.
But you stayed.
And changed just like me.
You are no longer you.
You’re not the person I knew.
The person I cared for more than myself.
My dear (f/n)-chan.
I’ll leave you.
It may be too late,
The damage done to you irreparable.
Just try to be yourself agai
Chapter VII: The spider of the Jasperlode mineChapter VII: The spider of the Jasperlode mine by Blueredor
Previously ...on The Chronicles of Azeroth
"Well?". The elf asked with a threatening tone.
"I talk to them, they will go to Goldshire". Falkhaan responded with much fear as the elf release a dagger from the wall and keep it close to his neck cutting something to the collar of his shirt, "why you invaded my house?, please don't kill me!".
Move apart their daggers and sheaths it, Falkhaan gives to her a small bag with silver coins, the elf receives it and tied at her waist.
"Well". The elf said with a seductive tone while withdrawing, "I had to find food, the life of a mercenary isn't easy, you know?, thanks...you'll live". Turns and looks at him now with her green eyes, "for now".
"They paid me very well for you". the Highelf said, "but business is business".
"Red bandanas". Davis said when preparing his Immolate.
"Defias!". Gabriel shouted when preparing its new two-handed sword.
"Great food, great atmosphere". Nailock said, "and now a good fight". shows his great axe, "couldn't be bet
Chapter VI: The Goldshire's PrideChapter VI: The Goldshire's Pride by Blueredor
Previously...on The Chronicles of Azeroth
"I see those fools at the Abbey sent some fresh meat for us", Garrick said mockingly challenged and looking at them, "you success to overcome all my thieves... is the first time that adventurous as you manage to beat many of us".
"I don't know whether to take it as a compliment", Nailock said trying to deduce, "or nonsense".
"Nailock", Davis said reluctantly.
"Returns the vineyard of the town, Garrick!", Gabriel demanded by threatening with his hammer.
"You are finish!, you don't have more forces", Davis said as he and Karjub prepare their spells.
"Not if i'm still alive!", Garrick scream willingness to fight
"Don't think Cough you won", Garrick said about to pass out, "...the others....will... avenge!".
"Behold, the heroes of Northshire!", Mcbride proclaim with loud applause being accompanied by all the crowd.
"Garrick Padfoot", Willem formality yells the sentence, "by numerous robberies, murders, looting and be a member of defias...the people
Identity CrisisHello people!Identity Crisis by Back-Off-I-Bite
I hope I’m interrupting something boring.
Allow me to introduce myself; I am Qiikka the Uncatchable! I am a Shade.
What’s a shade, you ask?
Well, we’re sort of like shape-shifters, but not. There’s actually a lot of Shade-logic involved; which is much too complicated to even begin trying to explain to you. And I don’t want to blow up all of your little mortal minds with the details, so how’s about we just skip that part?
In short, we are creatures that were created pretty much before anything else (way before you Humans were even an idea). So, basically, since we came around before the whole ‘order of the universe’ was ever set in stone, we pretty much do whatever we want, whenever and wherever we want. Travel between dimensions, defy gravity… You name it! Our lives are essentially one continuously ongoing magic trick. Which is why we also have this nifty little ability to steal your identities and ruin all of your liv
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But th3y h4dn’t m4d3 m3. Th3 Augmented4th, th3 hum4n th4t 5h0uldn’t 3x15t. 1 ch053 th15 l1f3 f0r my53lf. 1’d ch053n 1t y34r5 4g0
Dystopian FutureBeginningDystopian Future by TheMeTheyDontSee
They say that the wall was built to keep Mexicans out of the United States. I wonder if that’s true because most of us would do anything to get to Mexico, legal or not. I know that I would and will, or die trying. I’m the oldest of 8 children and my family needs me. My mom is too sick to work and her medication cost more than our house. My mom won’t talk about it, but my dad used to do some shady things to put food on the table. When the cops found out, I became the man of the house. There isn’t a lot of work for someone who couldn’t afford to go to school, but I do what I can. Transporting drugs is a dangerous business and if I get caught I’ll end up like my dad, but it’s the only way to keep my family alive…except for my mom. It seems like her medicine gets more expensive every day and my source in East Saint Louis is drying up. Finding a new source is v
Order of Heaven, ch 2Day turned into night as the fading light was extinguished by gathering clouds. The autumn rain drove the residence of a militant village indoors. Even the guards of the large fortress that protected the town favored staying dry, not willing to catch their deaths on this cold and stormy night. Instead they headed in to warm their spirits with a tankard full of ale.Order of Heaven, ch 2 by Back-Off-I-Bite
It was all too easy for Cross to sneak back in. He preferred it this way anyhow. He hated attention. Since he was such a popular figure in the community he knew he would have drawn too much attention in a normal circumstance. But now he had extra reason not to be seen returning home. Fortunately he knew where all of the perfect places were to lurk around this town unnoticed. Soon enough he made it back onto the property of the manor where he lived.
Cross snuck down a small passage of stairs at the back portion of the fort, making sure that he was not spotted. Once he reached the bottom of the stares he pounded on the thick i
The SkawlThey speak of a creature.The Skawl by OnLinedPaper
Hush, child. You asked for a story; I seek your well-being. This will fit both purposes.
But who says it?
I do. Now be silent, and listen.
They speak of a creature. Out in the ocean of sand, there lives a creature called the Skawl. It is a thing of silence and then sudden noise, or blindness and stumbling and then pain, and silence forever after.
What does it look like?
Only a few know. The ones who have seen it and live tell tales of a creature, brown and red like the sand itself, arms all along its body in a spiral from its head. It swims through sand as easily as a fish swims through water or a bird sails through the air, digging, twisting, and lying still.
Why do only a few know, though?
Why else? Where do you think those who vanish from the village and into the sand ocean go?
My mother told me… she said they go to find oases, pools of cold water that bubble from the ground and grow fruit trees bes-
They die, child. Taken. Taken by the Skaw
The King Without A NameThe council ordered him killed. That’s something they will never be able to justify, but it will never make them evil. After all, at first, I wasn’t sure if I should kill him, either. He was only 11 years old when I first met him, in the tunnels below. Oh yes, I see the surprise on your face… I’ve been to hell, friends. I’ve visited the Dark Under and seen the one whose name is not spoken, I’ve stared him right in the face and stayed sane. I’m an Elf, we have different standards of sanity than you humans do.The King Without A Name by OnLinedPaper
I was not alone when I met him, no. I was with my closest, my dearest friends – Nerkom the Sorcerer and Vi the Radiant. Ah, I see you know those names. Yes, yes, I am Mikhal. No, I chose to forgo a title, and I am fairly certain that by extension I am wanted by the council as well… but that is neither here nor there. No, we are in no danger here, I promise you. Shall we continue with the story?
He was eleven when we met him. For
Sneak peek of Fire Flower of MightokenSneak peek of Fire Flower of Mightoken by FireEmber345
Long ago, before the dawn of man raised into the sky. Before the first beast devoured the first victim.
Before the water first flowed into the world, and very long before the stars were cast into the night or the clouds shaded the day, there was only one being, The Being.
This entity possessed no form or shape and can only be seen as a bright light like no other. This immortal entity was Nyl.
Nyl was created when the force of darkness and light collided with one another. It gave this super being immense power and influence to the void.
Nyl desired a world, a world for the forces of good and evil can balance one another.
The first thing that Nyl did was to focus the energy of light into a circular shape.
The being laid the bright orb into the center, which began to form rings of invisible force.
Nyl first task of the balance creation was complete, but now was needed, were eyes to view the void, so the immortal god sent nine hundred, thousand, million eyes into the void to keep watch of
Bon AppetitLong ago in a farm long the wayBon Appetit by FireEmber345
There was a small pig who was as pretty as the day
Her tail was curly
Her skin was pink
The porker was Mary Marley
From the farm La Trink
The farmer was a very old man
And not very fast that to understand
Mary had a sister and brother
They cared for her like no other
Though they both agreed that she is adorable
The poor little swine was quite gullible
The Brother was grey and a name of Greg
He was known for his scars and his peg leg
To those who had wonder what had happen to him
Greg would answer that his fate was less grim
For he was young a child at least
When he came face to face with a hungry beast
The creature attacked him in a very fast pace
But in the end beast was met with a mace
He warned his sister that if a creature acts too sweet
That it could be a monster saying "bon appetit"
During this time in the woods
There was a creature that the birds called a hood
He was known as Hungry Ringo
A deadly and clever Dingo
Ringo was getting tired of his pr
Two BroomsThe man walked down the street each day, sweeping with an old, ragged broom. The mothers would have their children come inside as he passed – the city-town was not densely populated, so the roads were usually empty and safe, but each day like clockwork, the man walked out of the sandwich shop (no one ever saw him enter, even those that waited) and would sweep right down the main road, picking up loose rocks and rubble and harvesting them in a tiny, shifting pile that slowly went down the road.Two Brooms by OnLinedPaper
The coffee-colored man was bent double with age, clothed in ragged brown clothes. He never said a word to anyone. He never looked up from the street. He just stayed bent over his broom, shuffling, shuffling slowly forward down the road, until he turned down a back-country trail, still sweeping, and vanished down the trail. No one ever followed him. It was one thing to wait in a well-lit public shop for him to appear, but it was another thing entirely to follow him down a dense forest trail
our zeniths are neither odd nor evenMake me more than the photographsour zeniths are neither odd nor even by DSteffi
I took for leisure,
and just general
rebelling- against -time.
Don't visit me
in an immovable space—
you know how much
and I think I got enough of that
in open air.
Feel me in the complications
of your chaos
. memes to dismember me with .. memes to dismember me with .. memes to dismember me with . by Amanda-Graham
We want to know who we are, and alone, we find no answers. We turn to the eyes of others inquiring, "Do you know me?" At times we suffer their silences. Much later, in those moments where endings are being approached, we wonder, ‘Was it what they saw of me?’ or ‘Had I made other choices, at some point earlier on, would this moment have been avoided?’
Our meanings, seeing ourselves, occur only as echoes. The sound of footsteps in dark alleys, in Marseille perhaps, where I was uncertain in my language, so involved in thinking that I missed what it was she said softly. I caught only the words "... your beauty is too subtle." These years later, it's come upon me that that was her goodbye and I'd been damned by looking with microscopes at what I thought I was seen as, and that she'd seen what I truly was.
Our minds are flavored by all of the accumulated histori
Chapter 1: The Tempest
Young Nyck awoke to the muffled roaring of crashing waves. The shaking boom of thunder seemed to clear his eardrums. His eyelids opened, revealing a blurred vision of lightning striking out of a dark blue overcast sky. He felt his body rock up and down.
Nyck's vision clarified, the lightning striking out of the sky was a pale blue. The smell of rain and the seawater entered his nose. As he lifted himself up, he realized he had been lying on the damp floor of a launch. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he looked around at his nautical surroundings.
Nyck placed a hand on his throbbing head. What happened? How did I get here? Is this a dream? The last thing he remembered was staring at the ceiling of his hotel room from his warm bed, trying to fall asleep.
The undulation of the boat assured him that this was no dream. His stomach felt it was dropping.
Three piles of damp ash surrounded him, some of it spilled from the heaps. He frowned at the mounds. Where did they come from?
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