Turbulance, a shaking sound like sunlight against a humming sheet in the wind.
A septic sort of feeling; unhinged from its own whirling source to crash against walls in bitter defiance.
As rosepetals, as butterflies, as birds at flitting flight amidst the summer skies; as raindrops or dark clouds casting a miasmic but euphoric glare.
As though boxed inside, with six walls that spoke just whispers to the endless space around. Timid, and protracted, never browsing subjucation as option nor concept.
Expressed; insignificant, dull, worn, timid, insipid, stale and shadowed. Concealed; painful, caustic, aching, afflictive, dire, and raw.
To ho
Ochre Chronicles: Escape Pt11 by Ryukaki, literature
Literature
Ochre Chronicles: Escape Pt11
Fin Ameriz Callibrar. Age 33. Caucasian Male. Born 2017 A.D., to Dr. Tarou Callibrar, and Marie Ameriz. These were the first things his eyes read, and the first things he comprehended before it dawned on him that he wanted to read no farther. Unbelieving eyes beseeched Khryis as they drew up tentatively from the pages of the documents below. He could tell that the figure staring back at him from a place in the past was the him he had been searching so impatiently for. Like a moth to flame he had been drawn here, and the reflections that danced in the hard eyes of Khryis standing before him told that this had all been the idea. Remorseless and
I am birth giver and life taker.
I am the carpenter the wise old maker.
I am the chime of your grandfather clock.
I am the sound that goes tickity tock.
I am the thing that winds down your life.
I am forever.
I am life
Time..
With it comes the change.
The change, By the hand, Changes both night and day.
The shadows cast by the sun,
Understood By none,
The Feeling of the first kiss,
And the dance of the pixies.
All are change,
Feelings, expressions.
All are change, Brought by the hand,
The hand of man, The hand of God.
All are still change, As is life,
The dance will forever continue, As long as there is change.
In the winds, a creature so bold and strong, marches.
Unhindered.
Through The Marshlands known as time.
Searching, Forever, for the place he called home.
Wandring.
A lost Soul in a river of melancholy spirits.
Daring to go where none will ever go again.
Parting.
From what he knew to return to what he only could imagine.
Fearing.
Nothing, for those who stood in his way became a part of the past
Slight wisps, an intangible source.
Something amazing.
A crack in the euphoria.
Dynamic sounds, an echo ringing through open field.
Is there a name to put to lust?
The words so spoken, thy seem to whisper so.
Ebony tresses, Ivory locks.
Converging, melting into one.
Lust does have a name.
Only it is so incredible, it never goes spoken by the human mouth.
A fear of something simple, sublime and reminecent. A fear of something gentle, something more than simply transgrecent. A fear of something jaded, hidden down within the heart. A fear of something shadowed from the light by thickened dark. A fear of something freeing, revealing all for all to see. A fear of something special, like the love 'tween you and me.
The soft bauble of green was dancing again. It did it every few hours, and the bubbles
were watched as they floated upwards to pop neatly upon an unseen surface. There
was often sound; the sound of popping burbles of oxygen, and the sounds of voices
speaking in soft tones. There were the beeps, and bloops of origin familiar, but distant.
There were also sights. Things to be seen beyond the barely caustic green of swamp
ooze, that composed the hue of liquids that seemed an eternal home. There was white.
Moving white. Sometimes the white came close, and had features. Eyes, ears, noses, all
of different sizes and shapes. One of them was f
Current Residence: Inisde the hearts of all my friends. Favourite genre of music: I DONT KNOW ANYMORE Favourite photographer: -None- Favourite style of art: -None- Operating System: Windows XP Trogdor Edition. MP3 player of choice: -None- Shell of choice: -None- Skin of choice: Bunni >> Favourite cartoon character: HAH. Easy. I'll tell you. But not until you're OVER 9000!! !! ! Personal Quote: While weilding a bladeless hilt, against his nemesis: 'This is my weapon. I call it faith'
Favourite Visual Artist
mmmm. That's a rough one. Lemme get back to ya.
Favourite Movies
-None-
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
-None-
Favourite Writers
Myself, actualy! Take that, Poe >>
Favourite Games
Saga Frontier.
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC
Tools of the Trade
If there is a tool better than your own two hands, let me know.
Hah! It's happened again! Kayd has caved in and decided to buy another wacom tablet.
It's only a 6x8 Graphire 4 for now, but I can deal with it until I can afford a bigger one, or an Intuos3 of the same size. Having a steady income is the win xD
So, hopefully you guys will finally get to see some art from me that doesn't suck. Wouldn't that be nice? I think it would. From what I've put together so far in just preliminary characatures and sketches? My skill is as good as I thought it was, which is nothing perfect, but way the fuck better than my abilities with a pencil. I hate pencils. I also do not know why I'm updating this since nobody re
So, it's been a while, and almost 50 pages have been transcribed from the original manuscript here in my lap, to DA, and a wordpad doccument on my desktop. I'm happy to report that progress goes well, and I have plans to submit this to an editor and publishing company when all is said and done. I will also be going about posting character profiles once I get to making proper pictures, so that you all can get a feel for the actual characters. Am I aware my audience is small? Yes. But I'm updating the journal anyways, just because I can.
Will this take off for me? Probably not. But for now it's taking up time, I'm enjoying it, and hopefully en