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happy_doughnut · Jul 19th, 2004, 05:40 PM

Ah! Thanks for all the nice comments, you guys. I really, really appreciate them.

It makes me happy to know that you enjoy what I've submitted thus far, miss Pu. ^__^

As far as what Carlito said, I agree with you... wholeheartedly. What you said it so true in so many ways. The only thing is that this truth is something that is a little difficult to realize, and furthermore, even harder to turn it into a vivid reality. But, I do thank you for that advice. I asure you I shan't forget it. =)

Moving on, as I said in my first post, poetry is difficult for me. It just simply is hard for me to sit down and get inspired... to write beautiful and meaningful lines full of musical feeling. I can't really do this, and this is why I stay away from poetry

.

The next, I must forewarn you, is a piece of fiction I wrote a couple months ago, and is extremely long. I mean.... really long. I'm not sure how many of you will actually want to read this, but I'll post it anyway, just in case someone does. The story isn't completed: it's a type of horror/mystery/strangeness type of thing that still needs a proper ending, but I just... didn't go through with it. >__< Maybe, if it's worth it, I will. For now this is my next entry. Tee hee. :p

[Disclaimer: Paragraphs in italics are character thoughts, not actual dialogue]:

Blood of the Faustus

Prologue **

A winged figure passes over the city of Wildcard. Only the flash of neon lights in the distance cast aside the shadows of the ever-restless night. The ebony wings of a raven are carried by the wind, as it touches down upon the roof of Kashtar’s Inn and drags its talons scraping along. Thick mists roll through cobblestone streets, muffling the pounding of hooves and the rolling of carriages that resound from beyond. Scarlet eyes gaze back at the stars for only a moment as if lost in deep contemplation.

The raven peers into the lighted windows. Its gaze lingers longingly upon an emerald-haired young dancer as she sways in rhythm to unheard music. Not a single sway or pivot of her hips goes unnoticed. And all the while, its heart is weighed down by an inexplicable sorrow. Not even the whistling gales can keep the creature’s curiosity at bay. Beady eyes watch her without relent, as if to undress the gymnast’s flawless form.

It had played this role in secret for years. And now all that time spent in isolation was about to payoff. But this would be different from all its other tasks. This time, it would be personal. Its breast swelled with pride. All the clues it had left behind for her had been leading up to this. All she had to do was grasp the answers, and her destiny would be one step closer to completion. Every trinket she uncovered brought on another flash of a life long forgotten. It would help her piece together her memories bit-by-bit if necessary. The raven grinned up at the full moon as black clouds swirled past the glowing surface. And then, its gaze inevitably fell back to her.

My love…soon, very soon, all shall change. For you, for me, and for the entire world of Gaia. Even I cannot foretell what the future holds. But I can cling to hope, however fragile. If everything indeed happens for a reason, am I wrong to conclude all mortals are but victims of fate? If so, then I shall be the one to sever these bonds. I know it's painful, but this shall be for the best, in the long run. Under my guidance, you cannot hope to grow. I must leave you to walk your own path.
Farewell, my love. One day, our destinies will once again intertwine. I can only pray that it shall be soon.

Even death is powerless before true love.

* * *

Valerie exited the stage and cast a towel over her shoulder as beads of perspiration glistened on her skin. The large crowds of sweaty men had gathered to clap and cheer, entranced by her peerless features. The leotard clung to her skin as moisture seeped through the rose designs and the thin layer of snowy-white material that cloaked her curvaceous form. She undid the cap to a bottle of water and drank deep, before splashing it over herself without thought. Though it cooled her down instantaneously, it also drenched the fabric. Only those splotches of lacy roses hid her delicates, as the rest of the saturated fabric left her exposed to a perceptive eye. Milky skin shone through and gleamed under the lights above.

And even worse was when the leotard crawled into her unmentionables from hours of weaving about. She flushed and picked the fabric free. The emptied plastic bottle clanged into the wastebasket. But the crowd never turned away from her even for a moment. Each step she took was like a feather in the wind; so graceful it could cut through the ocean without so much as a ripple. But to Valerie, it was just another lonely night. Another meaningless excursion that failed to elevate her towards her greatest dream.

Oh, she couldn’t deny she enjoyed the work. The blissful stares that made her feel needed were mixed with the cries of adoration from her endless streams of fans. But in the end, like all she’d ever done since she’d come to the inn, it left her hollow. A part of her remained missing and refused to reveal itself. Relics from a former existence continued to appear unexpectedly all over the inn. When she touched them, tantalizing scraps of those long suppressed memories resurfaced. But they held far more questions than answers. All those relics did was taunt her, especially the cross at her breast.

She breathed a sigh of relief, eager to free herself of the white leotard that clung to her skin. Stepping from the stage, she headed towards the common room. A private table was set for her each night. The crowd followed her every movement without relenting. There were plenty of seedy joints in Wildcard. She knew that she was the only one who kept them coming back, even if her dancing was rather tame compared to what the rest of the city had to offer. But then, she wouldn’t even consider taking up work in either one of the casinos or the gentlemen clubs.

Valerie cast her fans a weary smile, despite the disconcerting feeling that washed over her. Like parasites, they clung to her every word and movement, always demanding more. She’d given it her all every time she’d walked onto that stage, but it had never been enough. Her muscles ached and her heart pounded against her ribcage, yet they continued to demand more, to push her past her limits.

...

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Jul 19th, 2004, 05:40 PM	#12
happy_doughnut just a rolling stone Joined: Apr 2002 Location: of what? Posts: 1,561	Ah! Thanks for all the nice comments, you guys. I really, really appreciate them. It makes me happy to know that you enjoy what I've submitted thus far, miss Pu. ^__^ As far as what Carlito said, I agree with you... wholeheartedly. What you said it so true in so many ways. The only thing is that this truth is something that is a little difficult to realize, and furthermore, even harder to turn it into a vivid reality. But, I do thank you for that advice. I asure you I shan't forget it. =) Moving on, as I said in my first post, poetry is difficult for me. It just simply is hard for me to sit down and get inspired... to write beautiful and meaningful lines full of musical feeling. I can't really do this, and this is why I stay away from poetry . The next, I must forewarn you, is a piece of fiction I wrote a couple months ago, and is extremely long. I mean.... really long. I'm not sure how many of you will actually want to read this, but I'll post it anyway, just in case someone does. The story isn't completed: it's a type of horror/mystery/strangeness type of thing that still needs a proper ending, but I just... didn't go through with it. >__< Maybe, if it's worth it, I will. For now this is my next entry. Tee hee. :p [Disclaimer: Paragraphs in italics are character thoughts, not actual dialogue]: Blood of the Faustus Prologue ** A winged figure passes over the city of Wildcard. Only the flash of neon lights in the distance cast aside the shadows of the ever-restless night. The ebony wings of a raven are carried by the wind, as it touches down upon the roof of Kashtar’s Inn and drags its talons scraping along. Thick mists roll through cobblestone streets, muffling the pounding of hooves and the rolling of carriages that resound from beyond. Scarlet eyes gaze back at the stars for only a moment as if lost in deep contemplation. The raven peers into the lighted windows. Its gaze lingers longingly upon an emerald-haired young dancer as she sways in rhythm to unheard music. Not a single sway or pivot of her hips goes unnoticed. And all the while, its heart is weighed down by an inexplicable sorrow. Not even the whistling gales can keep the creature’s curiosity at bay. Beady eyes watch her without relent, as if to undress the gymnast’s flawless form. It had played this role in secret for years. And now all that time spent in isolation was about to payoff. But this would be different from all its other tasks. This time, it would be personal. Its breast swelled with pride. All the clues it had left behind for her had been leading up to this. All she had to do was grasp the answers, and her destiny would be one step closer to completion. Every trinket she uncovered brought on another flash of a life long forgotten. It would help her piece together her memories bit-by-bit if necessary. The raven grinned up at the full moon as black clouds swirled past the glowing surface. And then, its gaze inevitably fell back to her. My love…soon, very soon, all shall change. For you, for me, and for the entire world of Gaia. Even I cannot foretell what the future holds. But I can cling to hope, however fragile. If everything indeed happens for a reason, am I wrong to conclude all mortals are but victims of fate? If so, then I shall be the one to sever these bonds. I know it's painful, but this shall be for the best, in the long run. Under my guidance, you cannot hope to grow. I must leave you to walk your own path. Farewell, my love. One day, our destinies will once again intertwine. I can only pray that it shall be soon. Even death is powerless before true love. * * * Valerie exited the stage and cast a towel over her shoulder as beads of perspiration glistened on her skin. The large crowds of sweaty men had gathered to clap and cheer, entranced by her peerless features. The leotard clung to her skin as moisture seeped through the rose designs and the thin layer of snowy-white material that cloaked her curvaceous form. She undid the cap to a bottle of water and drank deep, before splashing it over herself without thought. Though it cooled her down instantaneously, it also drenched the fabric. Only those splotches of lacy roses hid her delicates, as the rest of the saturated fabric left her exposed to a perceptive eye. Milky skin shone through and gleamed under the lights above. And even worse was when the leotard crawled into her unmentionables from hours of weaving about. She flushed and picked the fabric free. The emptied plastic bottle clanged into the wastebasket. But the crowd never turned away from her even for a moment. Each step she took was like a feather in the wind; so graceful it could cut through the ocean without so much as a ripple. But to Valerie, it was just another lonely night. Another meaningless excursion that failed to elevate her towards her greatest dream. Oh, she couldn’t deny she enjoyed the work. The blissful stares that made her feel needed were mixed with the cries of adoration from her endless streams of fans. But in the end, like all she’d ever done since she’d come to the inn, it left her hollow. A part of her remained missing and refused to reveal itself. Relics from a former existence continued to appear unexpectedly all over the inn. When she touched them, tantalizing scraps of those long suppressed memories resurfaced. But they held far more questions than answers. All those relics did was taunt her, especially the cross at her breast. She breathed a sigh of relief, eager to free herself of the white leotard that clung to her skin. Stepping from the stage, she headed towards the common room. A private table was set for her each night. The crowd followed her every movement without relenting. There were plenty of seedy joints in Wildcard. She knew that she was the only one who kept them coming back, even if her dancing was rather tame compared to what the rest of the city had to offer. But then, she wouldn’t even consider taking up work in either one of the casinos or the gentlemen clubs. Valerie cast her fans a weary smile, despite the disconcerting feeling that washed over her. Like parasites, they clung to her every word and movement, always demanding more. She’d given it her all every time she’d walked onto that stage, but it had never been enough. Her muscles ached and her heart pounded against her ribcage, yet they continued to demand more, to push her past her limits. ...