Writing

Fenqua's picture

Falling snow makes no sound...

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[=10]
‘Falling snow makes no sound,
As it carefully touches the ground
Before disappearing into nothingness
Unseen, unheard
And left to rest.’


The girl softly sang to herself, while watching the first flakes of winter fall. Right in front of her feet they vanished, for their short, fragile lives mattered to no one at all. Her gaze went from her shoes to the place she currently was, London Kings Cross station. People walking, pushing her aside in their haste without having time to apologize. The fifteen year old with one green and one blue eye, eyed the other travellers with curiosity and fear. Fear of loneliness and the unknown in front of her. She planned on going to travel, but never realized there were so many places she could go. To her it did not matter, she just wished to leave the rotten city she was born in. London had its charm for sure and looked beautiful on the outside.

~Tales from the Oak~ (New story! 'Face Value')

Your hooves have carried you through the forest, a whisper in your ears.
The voice tugs at your soul and you float along after it and into the hollowed chamber.
A deep droning reverberates in your chest, lazy crescendos pulsing in rhythm like some behemoth heart.
You find your mind wandering, fantastical notions, ponderings, and soul searching seem so much easier inside the inviting womb of the Oak.
If you think of nothing at all and simply concede to doze you might be lucky enough to hear the voice of Old Oak herself.


Perhaps, if you are a good listener, she’ll share with you a story…

:.{My Deer Histories & Notes}.:

[=10]Yeah xD This may be updated as I think of or discover new things about my characters, but is basically finished. :3 Comments, opinions, suggestions etc are all appreciated!
Iaurdagnire's picture

Back to You

Verdalas's picture

White Flame :: A Story Abandoned


He stood, a magnificent cavalier, upon the mandate of paradise,
His eyes obsidian and laced with ruby.
With the verdure of a King in his prime
And the grace of a breeze able to turn to a typhoon,
His focus moved across the province.


There she stood, a glistening gem of alabaster,
Her eyes golden and laced with beryl.
With the serenity of an Angel from the heavens
And the voice of a diva able to pacify a storm,
She revealed herself with song.


There they stood, together, a beacon of happiness,
With the cosmos as their playground.
With their shared compassion only paramount
And their rapturous forms embraced,
Their future of anguish was concealed.


Then alone he stood, perturbed and afraid,
Taking in the sight of his fallen beloved.
Just able to speak, He inquired of his pearl,
"By whose hand were you slain, my love?"
Lips tainted crimson could only reply:

"The strike came from you, dear one."


Just bumping this for people who might miss it.

This little piece of.. Whatever it is, is loosely based around a plot idea I had for Walter. However, due to the more recent "no moar violence!" outcry, it probably won't come to pass, especially now that I've revealed it.

What I had intended, was for Walter to finally find his love. However, in his overwhelming compassion for her, he smothered her to the point where he killed her accidently. The reactions, responses and consequences would be totally down to all you people as the community who would have wanted to have been involved. But like I said, since the idea of violence is rejected in TEF, this will no longer occur.



Apparanza's picture

Apparanza and the Dead Fawn

[center]Crystalline emerald orbs flickered around, scanning the environment. Tiny fawn hooves needed to only give the ground the smallest pat and it would guide the fawn's whole body smoothly forward. A circle of purple flowers was set atop her little head. This was what differed her from most other fawns - she preferred to stand out, for her pelt matched that of every other fawn's. Orange-chestnut with white dappling, underbelly, and face. How awfully boring, compared to the variety of pelts, masks, and antlers of the adult deer! She needed a little originality, so she did what she could.

Apparanza's trotting came to a halt, and she moved slowly to the edge of the pond. She was taught by her deceased foster mother Siiya that if a deer fell in, they would lose their spell-casted appearance! The idea was horrible, and so Ranza had never stepped in deep enough to fall in. She watched a fish swim under a patch of lily pads, then her gaze switched to a frog hopping from lily pad to lily pad.

Suddenly something else caught her attention.

A raindrop pelted into the pond, and left a circular ripple. Then another, and another.
Soon a full-out storm brewed, and Apparanza ran off to find shelter. Where was the Oak when you needed it?!
With the rain striking at her eyes leaving her practically blind through the darkness and storm, it was too late when Ranza caught sight of another fawn in front of her. She slid and stumbled, trying to stop, but the ground was muddy and she couldn't gain a hoofhold. She tumbled forward, bracing herself for impact, but none came.

She could've sworn that she was going to hit the fawn's side.

Apparanza scrabbled to her hooves and approached the fawn, who was staring at her. As Ranza neared, she noticed that the fawn had pupiless blue orbs, but they were clearly cataractless and not blind. Ranza tilted her head, but said nothing about it.

[=silver]"Hello! I'm sorry about the fall...

~A Fairytale: Hook, Line, and Sinker~

~------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------~

Chapter 1: Not as it is.

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The Endless Forest was not always such. Once, long ages ago, life and death played out the dance of existence as in any other wood. Now this is not to say it was as any normal forest, for it was a place of great tranquility and balance. Even humans recognized it's peaceful nature, retreating there from the turmoil of civilization to live in simplicity and contemplation. Under the leaves they built a monastery of stone and timber in which to live and worship the God that had blessed them with the discovery of such an Eden.

All of this was watched with great anticipation by the other inhabitants of the wood. The animals of the wood did not know what to make of the new-comers. Eventually learning of the carnivorous nature of the upright beasts, they fled their presence and skirted the monastery with uneasy steps.

Largest and most respected of creatures were the woodland deer, who ran through the trees in great herds. At the head of each herd was a great and mighty deer spirit, benevolent and protective they watched the workings of all within the forest. These spirits, being both powerful and wise, were charged with the sacred duty of guiding their herds through life. When the time came for a deer to die, either by the hunt or the failings of age, it was also the duty of the spirits to take their deer to the final rest.

| :.Nightmare - feat. Lorak.: |

[=10][=lightblue]Days grow longer in the days of summer, and nights shorter. Darkness is far less overwhelming. Sorrow is less common.
But recent times have pushed summer's regular habits away. The days are dark, the heavens weep, and Death hangs over the Forest like an ominous storm. Death has struck the Forest.

I wandered alone this dark day, rumours of murder ringing inside my mind along with the sorrowful and angered murmerings of the lost...And yet the Forest seemed less filled with spirits and souls today, as though something or someone had driven them out. I cannot sense nor see every spirit in the Forest - if I could, I'm sure I would have gone insane long before now. But still, the whispers were faint, the strength of their presence dulled. It was a blessing, but I was certain there would be consquences for the odd serenity that enveloped me.

I was not wrong. It seemed that while I had slept by my own grave, two friends of mine had encountered someone they never thought they'd meet.
My father, Rak Adrokus.
He'd made himself corporeal.
My mother, Laurel Adrokus, had done the same. However, both Silvery and Cirrus had met Rak - only Cirrus had spoken to my mother. Cirrus told me that Mother had fled after muttering something about my father. This is understandable - if Rak had come across my mother, I doubt he would have retained the sanity he has left.
Rak made my life similar to Hell once upon a time, but he had and still has his reasons for doing so. I destroyed almost every reason he had for living. I took her from him. And so he took his revenge for most of my life...But he was never a naturally cruel person. Truth be told, my father is reasonably friendly -- if slightly aggressive -- around anyone but myself, and my close friends.
Blackhoof's picture

Written in Time



Why no one Remembers
Solitary Silence comes and
Floods your mind with cloudless memories
Lil did I know that soon
you would admire them just
as much as the trees do
Shaking like a deing leaf
Swallowing all your greif
come to me child and we will all
be forgotten
Never thought I would come out
Never knew you wouldn't
scream & shout
Come with me we shall slowly
swallow our sorrows
Breaking little at a time
Shaking roots, Fixing time
Slowly forgeting we aren't alone now




More than you would like to know
Poor wicked Child
Fallen in your own plans
Breaking down your trees
undeing breath
Leaped when had the chance
But when you unfolded
the truth
You couldn't understand
Now were Losing
Now were creating
Truth be told
some people know more than we can
understand




Clementine's Ballad / Why we are not suprised when our heroes fail
Walking never
seemed so hard to
do
once I layed my arms arround you
This feeling is like winter
When every thing started to turn blue
I could still see right threw you
Bleading from your own scars
Childlike wishing is far
to endless
far to deep for
me
Never thought
I had to say
Please just go away
My brother I hope you will find forgiveness
even though you never really
needed it
Take me with you when you leave
Cause I know now
That you are not
the only one that bleeds
Take me with you when you decide to
leave




[=#70DBDB][=12] Trash that wasn't trash bu
Verdalas's picture

More vent writing

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't live like this.

Why did he have to suffer so?

The navy-pelted stag dropped to the soft, cool soil. With no other desire than to relieve the anguish consuming him, Walter slammed his face hard against the ground. A scream of agony followed and filled the air. Droplets of blood splashed amongst the grass. The mask's spines previously used for defence had turned against their master and now embedded themselves deep within Walter's cheeks.

Beneath the mask of ivory, tears formed and fell. He knew he deserved this pain, this inner turmoil. Each day of his human life had been spent rejecting hospitality and love from others. But now, here, in the eternal second life, he desired nothing else than the warmth and comfort of another.

Walter lay where he fell and made no effort to move, letting his blood and tears combined stain the floor around him. Noone was here to comfort or assist him. He was alone.

Sleep overcame the stag, with the pain and sadness being his only lullaby. He made no effort to remove the mask from his face, or even stop the bleeding. Instead he lay there and accept the agony burrowed mentally and physically within him, tearing at his soul.

"This is the punishment I deserve."
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