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Finding the Safe RoomMerritt made her way through the tunnels, slinking along as quickly and quietly as she could. She couldn't wait to get back into any open space, whether it was a sewer room or the safe room. She was trying to distract herself from how close the walls were around her by keeping her thoughts elsewhere- she closed her eyes and listened carefully to all the sounds around her, and realized her steps were louder than she thought. She slowed down a bit and tried to quiet her footsteps.
Fahne likewise was quickly moving through the tunnels, but unlike Merritt he wasn't very concerned about how close the walls were. Neither was he trying to keep quiet: the small black fox was highly entertained with the multiple puddles along the way, and giggled as his paws made small splashes. Though Ainu had explained to him where the safe room was, Fahne hadn't been there yet, and didn't seem to find it all too important at the moment. He was content exploring his new home.
Had Merritt not slowed down, she
Late One Night...Crylark sank onto the dirt floor of the safe room. Her silver eyes glowing in the darkness of the young aeniama's only safe place, making her seem even more ghostly in the dark room. Letting out a puff of breath, she turned. Rolling onto her back so the fine silt would clean her fur of caked mud and rubbish, but also because she had an itchy shoulder. Restlessly, she sighed, rolling back to stand on her brown paws. Before padding off to a different corner so she would have room to pace as she tried to keep her glowing effect subdued, as to not wake the others.
Over by the waterfall, another Aeniama seemed to be having trouble sleeping. As she watched the flow of pure liquid into the pool, she leaned over and lapped a bit more, moistening her tongue. She saw a moving light in her peripheries, looked up and saw a fox moving from one corner of the safe room to another. Merritt decided to go and find conversation, at least. She hated being awake at times like these; she hated having nothin
Merritt's Villanelle: Private ThoughtsBorn as an Aeniama, bred in sewers dark and dim,
I live my life with certainty and for myself do fend.
Quite rarely do I think of it as risk of life and limb.
The sewers can be dangerous, and I cannot yet swim,
But seldom does that matter. In the tunnels I do spend
My hours, as I avoid the sewage tanks, enclosed and dim.
Exceptions come upon occasions when I go and skim
Some sewage from the surface, dark in color for to blend
Into my fur and well obscure the color of my limb.
I have a secret pining, little more than just a whim,
To find someone to share my time an Aeniama friend.
We'd help each other make it in the sewers dark and dim.
If ever he (or she) and I did find things looking grim,
We'd use affinities and all our energy expend.
The problem solved, we'd find the Safe Room whole, with every limb.
But still, if I did find this friend, I'd want some more from him.
We'd make a pact that soon, we from these sewers would ascend
And always we'd remember helping out when things w
Playing DefenseIntramural soccer game:
third loss. Not that I care fun to play.
Overcast the second half, and
as they score the drops start dripping,
mingling with our sweat until the
final goal is scored.
Suddenly, the heavens open,
pouring sheets of tiny drops and
all are light on players' skins. The
others start to leave and gather
all of their belongings while I
lay out on the sidelines and just
let it cool my face.
Minutes later, I stand up and
all the fields are full of faeries
dancing in the wind in spirals
to an ancient tune. The clouds are
parting in the sky just west so
rays of sun are visible and
tint the wings all white.
I was never one for dancing
but this time I get caught up in
all of the excitement from the
grass and rain and sky. My heart is
lifted from the earth, ascending
like a soccer ball that has been
swept from near the goal.
Writers' MemeWriters' Meme
Hello, and welcome to the writer's meme! Let's start with an easy question: how long have you been a writer?
-I've been writing just about as long as I can remember. I love creating stories, even though they're not always that good, and I don't actually get the ideas down all that often.
Ah, I see. Do you enjoy writing, or are you only doing it because you lack drawing skills?
-A little bit of each. I'd like to practice both, but I'm better at writing as of right now.
If you had to rank your skills as a writer (Pichu, Pikachu, Raichu), which would you pick?
Do you like to write in 1st, 2nd or 3rd person? Why?
-Each has its advantages. Most commonly I write in third person, but that's only because there's a lot of difficulty involved in writing in second person well. Second is probably my favorite, if only for the challenge.
Do you focus on the point of view of only one of your team members, both, or do you switch depending on the mission?
-I've only got o
HelloThe wind is made of dragonflies.
It picked up as I walked blindly, unthinkingly, down the sidewalk. My head wasn't in routine; my head doesn't get into routines. My body was in routine and my head was in the clouds when I felt their legs tickling across my skin and they started flying faster and faster and I felt the cloud pushing against my face, changing direction all at once, flying synchronized in a current of insects. They all followed the shifting slope fields across the plane of my existence, whichever one that was.
I smiled as the whisper echoed across the dimensions. Maybe somewhere there was a hurricane and they sounded like a swarm of locusts; maybe somewhere they were too distant and couldn't be heard; here, now, their whispers were like waves on a shore. Quietly, but powerfully, they rolled around me. Each one that passed close noticed me, stopped for no more than a millisecond to inspect me in that curious yet unaffected way they do, and continued on in the unending torre
The Difference Between You and IThe thorns sink in as the road darkens ahead and I dream that one day we can sleep in peaceful beds
as the air thickens with night's reign as fear spreads.
When will yesterday be a forgotten sentence?
We seek calm yet we must meet war head on without undue pretense.
To put the animal out of it's misery, to call upon those who seek to civilize,
I yet walk with my dreary head held high,
I float away while the greedy drown in their vicious lies.
Some may have sympathized for my plight
but the awakened souls know who has always won the fight,
now we are millions spanning all races
putting those who put skin or body ahead through their paces,
my name helped inspire a mounting torch,
your dying legacies of hatred are already among the forgotten faces.
Their open mouths suck out my soul
As their eyes gape ignorantly ahead
I come forward to challenge their point of view
They cannot follow me
Every age and every faith
'Just gets twisted round some other way'
Only those like me can ever know
What the founders really said
'Temples should be houses of prayer'
Not for the likes of what I see
My eyes may no longer open
To behold the truth when it dawns
The Body Count of Denial
I would rather desire to attempt something new.
Spontaneous to my soul or soon to be lack there of.
My free will, the miracle is
tainted by my self inflicted curses.
Though you only see the monster through
your morally constructed eyes,
I see myself and others in a cracked mirror,
alone in my own dark little world.
A part of me, in the void of sanity perhaps,
or to the side shackled to some fiend of
the Torturous Realm, a part of me in
powerful fragments lives in this desire of mine.
Only thus far in my most welcome dreams, to others nightmares,
have the fairytales for which I smile come
to a fictional life in the mind,
lost and replaced at so young an age.
I am but a son, a daughter, a brother, a sister,
a father, a mother. An individual of no demons
in the light of open eyes,
but demon of my own flesh whilst so alive.
Of Hell am I born, within the world of man,
unknowing until crosses the first thought
in mind to inspire the act in question,
well and fully aware with the catalyst vic
GandhiThis is not
A get up and go poem.
I've heard news enough -
The statistics, the suicides.
I've been walking to the steady tempo
Of bombs ticking in planes, in cars, in
The mouths of strangers. And no, I can't
Bring myself to look the homeless in the eye,
Can't think too hard too often about disaster victims;
Such empathy would implode in my chest, deflate me
Until the husk of my body curled around itself.
Gandhi said: be the change
That you wish to see in the world.
Those words tumbleweeded in my rib cage a while;
Be the change, change, change those empty
Beautiful words. I thought:
You see, these dry bones
Are my precious own, trying their hardest to live.
This is not
A get up and go poem.
But it could be.
It is not I who is entitled
It is you, who sit in a chair
Elected by boards of corporate officials
It is you,
Who think you're entitled to my life
My 9 to 5, my life
Stealing hours from my family, my kids, and my wife
It is you who're entitled
Who think my life is worth a wage
When it is priceless
I reserve the right to my self determination
To remove unnecessary hierarchy
Over myself and others
Who deem it so
No, it is you who is entitled
The World That I See.When one man walks into heaven,
He thinks that he has done what’s to do.
An antique store sells toys and games
from days that I lived through.
A traffic jam stops a lover,
He’s missing his shallow affair.
Days and nights of stress with out his wife
Means he’s lost all his flair.
An addict reports to AA.
They’re giving out jello shots.
A newsman thinks he’s found the holy grail.
He opens Pandora's's box.
A painter comes in for some coffee,
and I’m lost in her labyrinth gaze.
Looks like the Minotaur is eating tonight,
and I am lost in the maze.
When all the world has been smitten.
When teardrops fall as rain.
Then the survivors must ask but one question.
What of the world now remains?
When all the wars have been won.
When sons lie dead and gone.
Their fathers ask only one question.
Will this happen all again?
When all the nations are fighting.
When life is forfeit yet again.
Ask yourself but one question.
How to stop the spreading flame.
When will the world start rebuilding?
When can we destroy the lies?
For only then will we see one another.
And be able to stand side by side.
LazinessI like my laziness, with a side of anti-capitalism
There is nothing like destruction
Of calvinist garbage
Posing as an legit ethic
Morals of working your fingers to the bone
When the product of your work is stolen
Funneled upwards into the bank account of your CEO
Who tells you to stay in line
Do your job-OR ELSE!
Be thankful! OR ELSE!
I prefer to surf the net
I also like couch surfing
Destroy their morals imposed upon you
Destroy their system of coercion
Destroy the philosophy of hacks
Work less, sleep more, have more sex!
Fast workers die young
X's and Y'scomes down to the forty-sixth
I've got oaken leaves on the ashen strips
and they can't tell by looking in my eyes
there's nothing wrong with a simple life
based on anything else in the first forty five
but that's not what they want to hear me say
we could chat here for hours
about Halo or flowers
and there's no shame in liking them both
but at some point you'd ask me
to answer the question
so you could tell me which was wrong
I retreat to a world
made of crystal and pearl
with the beautiful boys
and the beautiful girls
so that I can be friends
with whoever I want
make a life for myself
based on what's in my thoughts
and can cry
at the near-perfect world
where the people are nice
and the morals are closer
to black and to white
it's a mess– pretty, though
and nature and harmony are king
but on earth I'm content
to hold ashes of oak
and of juniper
and hope that no one will ask
and hope that in October
the sixth, the forty-sixth
won't become a crude joke
about X's and Y's
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More