Mission: Loot as much as you canAt the risk of staying longer than he'd wanted, the aegislash had set up a small camp for himself on the outer reaches of Nirmala's fortress. He needed to get back to gathering..stealing, supplies as soon as possible but..the chance of getting anything of worth from that citadel was something he felt he couldn't pass up. Imagine, what just a few golden coins could do for him..for his family, food for a few days was nothing short of normal for some..but back home it meant survival. A good dinner was a rare luxury, and if he could get that somehow..or enough to sate the water auctioneers for a time..it was too priceless to walk away from.Upon the order from Duskim, the thief would be quick to enter the citadel once more, a slight panic to him. If that woman were gone, then others would come here all too quickly, the treasure in their minds as well. He had to be fast, get as much as he possibly could before it was all gone-! Darin would make his way to the treasure room that Act had been
Spirits of OletulGiving a tired sigh, Darin walked through the barren streets of Oletul an occasional sullen face giving the aegislash a glance before going back to their own business. Most people in the general area his parents lived in knew of the sword gijinka, and how he'd typically return with something in tow. Today however, his coat looked particularly flat..so there'd be no interest in causing a stir or bothering him for whatever he may have brought. The thief's gaze would be cast downwards as he moved on, hands in his pockets, and mind preoccupied in thought.After recent events, the sword gijinka thought it fit to visit with his parents. The idea of the islands being threatened had been a disturbing one to say the least..and though he hadn't been able to do much, he'd clutch the small bundle of coins and jewels he'd taken from Nirmala's treasury tightly within his pockets. It'd been all he could leave with without the others coming in to take the treasure not noticing. He'd use some of it to
CoR: Distraction.The Aegislash would be walking through the streets of Ormona, his familiar safely tucked against his back. His scarf would be pulled up over most of his face, and his one uncovered eye watching the crowd around them cautiously. He'd stolen here before..and the last thing he'd want is to be recognized in some way, not before he could make it to the prison. Though the thief had a longing desire to go rushing into the massive building himself..he knew he wasn't capable of doing much once inside. Even if he were able to make it to the innermost depths and to Kamal's prison, he had no powerful moves..and couldn't break the bars that imprisoned him. A small plan had made way to him however, even if the very idea of it had earned high complaints from his familiar. All around them he could spot the faces in the crowds, watching, hiding..looking for some kind of opportunity. He'd stop in place within sight of the guardsmen, steeling himself for what he was about to do. Even if he couldn't fight
The wonder of flightAs the morning sun began to rise over the grand plains, Darin would slowly come to consciousness. Still snugged warmly against the Talonflame, he'd let out a yawn and open his eyes blearily. Slowly blinking away the sleep he'd look upwards, taking a moment to recognize the large bird. It's eyes were closed, the large pokemon breathing softly in it's sleep; placed next to Darin would be his familiar, the sword's eye still shut. Getting up slowly and carefully so as not to wake the two of them, he'd walk a small distance away and stretch, watching the sun as it continued to make it's way through the sky. That had to have been the best he'd slept in a good while..a full stomach, and something warm and soft to sleep against. He'd purse his lips, thinking hard for what to do next..if they were going to have any chance of winning, he'd need to figure out how to ride it somehow. The thief had his doubts that careening through the sky in it's talons would count towards a mount competition.Beg
Learning bit by bitAct would be angrily pacing -or rather floating- in a circle around Darin as he lay in the grass, slowly calming from the flight. Honestly when the bird had come at him in the way it did, he'd thought it was an invitation. His plan was to grab onto it's legs and see if he could climb onto it's back from there as it flew. Little did he expect the large bird to snatch him up like a piece of prey and take off with him-though at least it seemed like it wasn't wholly interested in eating him. It'd just dropped him in the grass, and landed nearby, neatly preening it's feathers as if nothing were out of the norm for it. As startling and scary as the moment had been, he did have to admit a touch of thrill to the little trip..he'd never been that high, or gone that fast before. Sighing, he'd sit up and rub his head, glancing over to the bird. It had chosen to stand in place, sharp eyes watching Act as it circled around him.He'd turn his eye to the agitated familiar, deciding to break whatever
Silence in the midst of screamsTime was running out. He could feel it, screaming, clawing..edging at every fiber of his being. The demon's mentality, his one remaining shard of who he had been lay within his cracked mind. Watching with a dread as everything lined, as his existence would slowly be diminished. If not the next soul devoured, it would be the starvation, that ended him. Any more pressure upon his already shattered mind, would have the shard be no more, a spiraling insanity would only remain. As it were on the surface...anxious, paranoid..fearful of everyone, and thing. Obsessive to the point of compulsion and actions driven by colors and nothing but the remnants of himself. He could only silently guide and hold the hope that his body would comply through his mind's disarray. Yet, as the time passed...he would find no solution to the issue at hand. How, could he survive without consuming the souls of contracted humans? It'd been unheard of by the demon thus far for such a thing to be. His search had been
9 years and 10 monthsConfusion, yelling and fear. Small arms reaching in desperation, a swift and loud CRACK, followed by the thump of a small body hitting the floor. Silence, as the storm slowed and ended, the small form being looked upon in contempt before the assailant would drop the heavy bottle and saunter off, leaving the small boy alone on the floor. As his consciousness left him, and the blood flowed freely from the wound upon his head. Coating and soaking through the already bright red hair darkening it and sinking into the carpet upon which he lay..confusion would riddle the boy's mind..why had this happened..? His consciousness would only return fleetingly as his father would return from work, his worried voice yelling, calling to him..he felt himself cradled up into the man's arms as the older Octillery attempted to get what had happened from the younger boy. The boy's eyes..fogged over and riddled with confusion would only stare back blankly. What happened...a slow blink. His mother had beaten
Tick, tock...goes the clockTick, tock...goes the clockevery day,every night.Tick, tock...goes the clockevery moment,every placeTick, tock...goes the clockit's everywhere,I can't escapeTick, tock...goes the clocka never ending symphonywhy can't it ever leave me be?Tick, tock...goes the clockin the back of my mind,even if my ears cannot hear itTick, tock...goes the clockthere is no place here,that the ticking does not haunt meThe agonizing stress,that SOUND.it makes me a mess,when will quiet be found?Not even away...out there,it's always at playjust..where?try to break them away,remove the battery..but there are too many, the ticks and tocks won't swaythe stress they cause is too much to carryand so...the panic arisesa mess left to be messier,but still...the faint..Tick, tock...of the clock.
How he won his homeWhispers were carried on the wind that night...whispers of the king and his tree. "The king is getting old..the king may die soon." "Who will get his home when he's gone?" the many voices of the forest's inhabitants asked one another quietly, careful not to disturb the old Nidoking in his place. "That tree is the best in the forest...it has many places to hide, many places to live." the voices would continue on, very well aware of the one listening in the shadows beyond the bushes, but paying no mind to the worthless scrap. HE certainly wouldn't be a threat to their plotting or planning, the runt couldn't fight and didn't have the bravery to go against king. They, on the other hand...or anyone else here could contend this treasure. "Should we challenge him now, while he is weaker in age? Or wait until he simply dies of his own?" they would question, each inhabitant in this place wanting that tree as their own, each determined to obtain it.Listening intently from where he hid, the youn
Bullied On Our Friendly Website DA There was once a two authors on a website that wanted to let their opinion out.But a famous author set to put them out.She took the flame of these little author’s hearts making them burn from blue to red.And here’s what she said,“Your little fire shall be extinguished because I want you to get the Fuck Out!”The tiny authors wept and cried.Wondering was it because they picked a side.Maybe if they had gone with the flow of everyone elsethey wouldn't have suffered being a different self?The small male author thought it was too much to handle and left.But the dainty female author stayed behind. HoweverThe light within her grew dimmer and dimmer.And its glow became barely a shimmer.Her originality became to be like everything else she owned: plastic.She wasn't real anymore; just another author following the trends.All hope was lost.No one to come save her.Sadness reigned within her, making her shallow and pale as Frost.Not
Suckerpunch SweetheartRed lipstick war paintEyeliner eyes.I am a soldier in my own war;A force split in two sides.I am a force of natureBring about my own raptureAnd I’ll bring you to your knees.Say pleaseLittle girl lost.Cut off my hairCut into my skinPretty princess girlCardinal sin.Let me inLet me in.Sugar in my veinsAnd poison in my heart;I can turn bloodInto a work of art.I won’t go there againWon’t do itI won’t.HandsA sea of handsAnd andsIn my head.A universe inside.Dead.Icy skinFiery eyesNobody knowsJust what's inside.
V o i c e sThese whispers in my head,trying to push me to the end.All I want is to go home,but then I remember,I've always been alone.
absent resolvei.i cradle my hopewith both hands,as if holding it closewill give it the warmthto stay alive.when you come nearit flares and rustles,begging to take flight;yet i am both caressand cage.ii.we have confused our signals,mixed our drinks andnever together.closure looms ominousbut i would rather forgetthan be caught in thisluminous void ofperhaps -iii.i am weakand perhapsyou are blind,we, silent,are nothingperhaps we could beeverythingif only we spoke.iv.enigma,you have unknowinglytwisted yourselfin helical fundamentalsabout my identity,shaped me inabsence andthe embers ofa chance.i wish i knewwhen to releasethis frail hope.v.we're both drunkand you're shaking,caught in a momentneither here nor now.entwined fingersbring you back tothe present, and i lingerbut you are eager to eclipsethis vulnerability,so you run.vi.i'm too afraid to ask,but at least the question'sanswered:we're both cowards.
bound in retrospectpart i.let's talkabout wreckage and dreaming,about nights wept weary,and how city limitscompress to claim youwhen you run.let’s talkabout slippingaway early mo(u)rningand choosing dark over light;how eventually i stoppedwishing upon starsbecause really,what’s the point.let's talk;there is no true wayfor someone this self-consciousto let loose streams ofconsciousness,but i'm trying.interlude: youyou,you are an immersionheartbeatracing down my spine,along vertebrae as ifthey belong to youbut they shouldn’t,not now.you,you are long-limbed eyelashes,a study in faux-reluctance.you are a cagei never could penetratealthough you never had much troubleignoring my reluctance;penetration became a gamei never won.part ii.let’s talk;this was never a love story,but add enough adjectiveand i guess it can bewhatever you want it to be.warped to your ideal,turn me to my better angleand hide the flaws;hide the fa
he/himsomeone came out to me recently, asked me to usehis correct pronouns when we’re alone,but says whenever i’m over at his home,‘please could you switch back to the wrong ones? i don’twant my parents to know who i am.’ so every time i sit at their tablefor mashed potatoes and peas, i listen to a father askinghis son how her day was and i hear him start to think that he’s aloneand i watch every wrong word they say strike like an axe intothe trunk of a young sapling who’s juststarting to grow into his own.i know they don’t know better, but it’s hard notto hate them when i am censoring every word i saybefore it comes out of my mouth, changing secrets intodinner time conversations, because a boy does not feelsafe enough in his own skin to come clean about somethingas pure as the foundation he has been built upon.later he tells me that he wishes he were strong enoughto just tell them, but he knows his father stillhas the c
Demons Can Feel TooI'll admit that I'm a demon.I'm cold and cruel,Hateful and quick to anger.I'm flawed.I prefer darkness over light.But demons can have feelings too.I can be hurt, offended.I can be sympathetic.I can care for other peopleAnd I can love.I may be a cruel being.Excessively so at times.But that doesn't make me heartless.Though I may seem so,I'm not.I do have a heart.And I do use it.Just not often.Because the problem with having a heartIs it can be broken.And I don't want a broken heart.I think maybe that's why demons seem so cruel and hateful.They're just afraid of getting hurt.
Can I Get a Receipt?I gave the worldto youand all I gotin returnis bloodied, mutilated wristsand a death wish.
twenty-sixgive me the ocean;let the salt nip at my skinand sand crush beneath my soles.throw me to the sun;char my skin to the bone.sink me under the depthstill my lungs start to swimthat weightless embraceis how i feel with him.
Heart strings.The lines,that connect our hearts.through them we feel,something very real.The bonds.Of love, life, friendship...these tender lines...that joy defines.