Ramblings

Discussion in 'The Big Bookshelf' started by WanderingSketchPad, Apr 9, 2016.

  1. WanderingSketchPad Super Awesome SuperModerator [__________] Collections Manager Rambling Writer

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    I'll be posting random shit that probably wont make any sense and will probably be short paragraphs xD. I'll be only using the second post to put these in, so check back whenever to see if i've updated anything!



    [ Simply use ctrl + f and type in the keyword to find the written work! :D ]

    Index:

    1.) Scrutiny

    2.) Aubrey's Prelude

    3.) The Encounter
    Last edited: Apr 12, 2016
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  2. WanderingSketchPad Super Awesome SuperModerator [__________] Collections Manager Rambling Writer

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    Scrutiny​


    ------The smell of burnt cigarettes, alcohol and sex all mingle together in the stagnant, dank air. There are no windows to open and the room is deep underground which causes poor air flow, but that didn't seem to bother him much.
    ------He sits in a chair directly across from me, ignoring me without a care in the world. His attention is on a book in his hand, the page illuminated for him by a small lamp which is the only light in the room. I stare at him for several long moments, studying the strong curve of his jawline and his thin lips, where an unlit joint is placed. I watch as air particles sparkle loosely around his dark hair, adding to its glow. His cold light blue eyes glisten as they dart from word to word on the pages he reads. I don't miss his coy smile, but then it was most definitely intended for me - that becomes obvious when he finally turns his attention away from his book to let his gaze bore into me.
    ------I shift idly, suddenly feeling the discomfort of going from being the observer to the observed. I would have turned my face in embarrassment, but the binding he had fastened around me held strong and fast, and it kept me securely in place. I could do nothing to prevent his now suddenly lewd expression. My breath escaped from my lips before I inhaled, and I fidgeted. Was I anticipating something? I can feel the beat of my heart, at first a low thrum, now a steady rhythm against my rib cage. Sweat also begins to bead at my forehead, and my breathing becomes quicker as our eyes lock.
    ------He moves then, slowly and deliberately, setting his book down on the small coffee table beside him. His hand moves, eyes never letting go of my own, as he pulls a Bic from his slacks to light the joint between his lips. He inhales the smoke from the burning cinders inside the wrap, then returns the lighter to his pocket and slowly stands. The almost sweet scent fills my nostrils as he exhales, a mischievous look crossing his face. It doesn't take him but a few slow paces to close the distance between us. I feel my body stiffen as he reaches out for me, and I close my eyes expectantly.


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    Aubrey's Prelude
    ------I was born into poverty, living on the scummy sides of the streets that most would have called the slums, but I called home. I lived a meager life, where my mother brought home coin from the streets, and my father brought home beer bottles and a temper.
    ------I was only eight when he came home one night, the scent of booze on his breath and a half emptied beer bottle in his grasp. My mother had given me a worried look, as she always did when this happened, and had ordered me into the back room. This was a common event, so I didn't question it as I moved to hide on her bed, curling my body into the linen blankets. I thought she would be fine -- sure, he usually gave her bruises and she cried a lot afterwards, but his beatings usually didn't escalate into anything that could mortally wound her. As I waited, I heard his voice raise, snatches of conversation -- of accusations a child my age should never had been able to hear so young. He called her an open-legged bitch, and she protested, something about getting money to feed me and him. I heard a guttural noise, and then her yelp as he no doubt struck her. I'd clasped my hands over my ears to block out the sounds, but there was no escaping the noises she made as he had his drunken way with her. After time, her crying subsided and his voice could be heard no longer. I waited several long and tense minutes for her to return to the room before it became clear that she might not. Tentatively I moved off the bed and tip-toed towards the door, peering out. What I saw made my eyes widen; mother was laying on the floor lifeless, her head bleeding from a wound he had inflicted. Her skirts had been shoved from her bodice, and tears streaked her cheeks. He stood over her, his hands covering his face as if he were sobbing. Quivering, I heard myself ask, "Mother...?" This had been a mistake, however; his hands moved swiftly from his face and he glared at me, before lunging. It was at these moments that I fully understood exactly what my mother had endured, and why she had always protected me by telling me to leave the room. After he was done with me, I could barely think, let alone move. He left my torn and broken body on their bed, and it took me weeks to recover physically. Mother was since buried, and father carried on his drunkard life, and I replaced my mother, both at his side as well as in the brothel.
    ------It didn't take but a few years for me to learn how to please both men and women, and that I took after my mother's visage which pleased both the patrons of the brothel as well as its workers. I became a favorite, everyone's black butterfly, which only enraged my father. Through the years, he grew worse, and so did the beatings. He'd often blame me for her death, and it was clear that as his mind grew more poisoned, to him I began to look more and more like her. It was on a particularly cold night when he'd beaten and raped me, and left me out on the streets likely to die. He'd told me he no longer needed me to support himself and that he'd hoped I would rot in the gutters where I lay broken. As he'd walked away, I thought to myself that dying then would not have been so bad; at least then I'd be freed from my wretched life. As I stared up at the dark sky, my vision fading, I watched as winter's first snow began to fall around me. I'd be buried here, in this snow. Then, She showed up. She called my name, as if relishing it, as She lifted my broken figure into her arms. I heard Her call me Her butterfly, and somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that She must have been one of my regulars. As my mind slipped away, I thought I felt Her lips brush over my neck. I died then, at the age of thirteen, within this woman's strong but gentle grasp.
    ------My life truly began then, on my birthday at the age of fourteen. She'd given me the gift of rebirth, and She'd become the center of my universe at that moment in doing so. When I was strong enough, she showed me how to take another's life to fuel my own, and I chose my first victim to be my father. I bled him as far as my gut would allow, and then I watched him squirm, his voice barely audible as I squeezed his still beating heart within his rib cage. His eyes pleaded with me, but I knew that this death was one far sweeter than any he'd ever deserve. I did not speak as I crushed the quivering muscle within my grasp. When I walked away from his corpse, I pressed myself into Her frame and wept, tears both of elation and great sadness.
    ------Years passed with me at Her side. She taught me many things, both about Herself, our kind, and what our purpose was. She taught me how to control the inner insanity that welled up within, as well as how to use it to my advantage. She taught me love, as well, and I thought I'd be happy at Her side for eternity, until one night She disappeared without a word or a sound, leaving no trace of Her existence behind. I wandered from city to city, and eventually continent to continent trying to find even the smallest detail about where She could have gone, but I found no leads, no information. I conceded to the fact that I would likely never see Her again. My life continued on without Her, though I did not expect the void left in my un-beating heart to ever be filled again.


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    The encounter​
    ------There was a gentle breeze that flitted through the air, gently caressing the leaves of the brush and branches in the forest. Evening sunlight filtered in through breaks in the canopy, creating specular lighting which bounced off the small puddles from the earlier rain of the day. There was a freshness to the air that only a good storm could leave behind. As much as one might expect life to be sounding in such a place, there were no birds chirping, no buzzing bugs. The forest was eerily devoid of animal sounds, as though the whole forest was withdrawn. The quiet made the sound of arrows whizzing behind him all the more surreal, the thudding noises they made as they hit everything in their path almost deafening against his ears as they pierced the silence.
    ------He weaved in and out the trees and the bushes skillfully despite his pursuers, cursing himself for not taking the time to learn the area better in his short time there. He was lost, but he knew those chasing him likely had a very good idea about just where they were. With the waning light of the evening, he hoped he could shake them, but he didn't hold his breath as he moved swiftly through the forest. It was a shame he'd have to see everything darting by so quickly, since on a regular day he would have probably quite enjoyed the beauty of this forest which was supposedly off limits to almost everyone in the continent. Just one more thing he could curse himself for -- coming in here at all when he knew it was illegal.
    ------More arrows launched, landing closer this time. The trees were beginning to grow more dense and it grew harder for him to move as quickly. He turned left towards a bit of a clearing, then continued going until the trees were so closely spaced together among the brush that he had to slow to a jog to untangle himself from the branches and vines that clutched at him. Arrows thudded again, but they sounded a lot more distance this time. He didn't let this slow him down, though!
    ------He ran like this for several long minutes, unaware of how much time was elapsing as darkness closed around him. Occasionally he heard shouts, his chasers trying to communicate to find him, but he knew they'd long since lost his trail. Exhaustion began to catch up to him though, so he slowed his pace a bit. He kept going until darkness swallowed him and his thoughts, and he could no longer hear the shouting of men. The forest remained quiet as he came to almost a crawling pace, now taking care to make as little noise as possible as he struggled to move through the dense foliage.
    ------The dark was making it incredibly hard for him to progress, so after a heaved sigh he rustled around in his pocket before pulling out a small rock that had a gentle glow. Using this light to assist him, he made his way forward until he came to a break in the trees. He pushed his arm out in front of him to stream the light out into his surroundings and gasped; had he moved even two or three steps more, he would have taken a deep plunge into a steep valley below. Staring down into the darkness bewildered, he took a moment to breathe in deeply and move strands of hair out of his face before taking a step backwards. He swung the light forward once more then stopped fast, for in front of him and between two trees he'd only passed through minutes before stood a hooded figure, their arrow notched on their bow and aimed right at him.

    ------"Shit," He breathed out the curse under his breath, teeth gritting. The archer let the arrow fly loose. It would have lodged into his heart if he hadn't taken a quick step to the side. Instead, it slammed with incredible force into the nerves of his shoulder, causing him to reel backwards and lose his footing. His hand lost hold of the glowing pebble, and the last thing he saw in the dying light was the ghostly face of his attacker as he peered over the ridge, a wicked grin on his face.
    ------There was no time to think. Airborne, he growled as he fell, hand moving to the arrow embedded deeply in his shoulder. He bit back a yelp as he broke the shaft as close to the skin as possible. He wasn't sure how far he would fall, but if he had any chance at survival, he didn't want his landing to worsen the injury anymore than it had to. He then loosened his body and closed his eyes, hands moving to protect his head from any impacts.
    ------In seconds, the canopy below broke his fall and he tumbled and twisted through a few branches, the sound of snapping twigs and his body crunching all too loud in his ears before he landed with a crunch against something much softer than he had anticipated. The impact had left him winded, and as he gasped for breath he was vaguely aware of something strange flashing into his eyesight. Was that... something pink..? Reality twisted around him and he lost his train of thought, as well as his consciousness.

    ᵒ۞۝۝۝۝۝۝۝۝۝۞ᵒ
    ------The soft sound of chirping filled his throbbing ears, rousing him. His body ached all over, but as he regained himself he had difficulty recalling exactly what had happened. Wincing, he stayed where he was for a few moments, eyes still closed, to gather his thoughts.... He'd been chased, had been shot, and then had fallen down into a forest valley. He grimaced as he recalled the resounding crunching he'd heard from his body hitting and breaking branches and then landing on the ground. Wait.. ground? He seemed to remember what he'd landed on had been softer than the soil he'd seen in the forest previously. Perhaps he owed this to the fact that he didn't seem as injured as he should have been? There was a dull ache in his right leg, and his rib cage and shoulder ached so bad he was having difficulty breathing, but it didn't feel as bad as other injuries he'd sustained. At the very least, he didn't think he'd broken his leg.
    ------Not having the energy to move himself, he simply opened his eyes and let the morning light filter into his sight. His vision swam as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, and he grimaced again, letting his eyes fall shut again. He felt something soft caress over his cheek and winced as it scraped over a bruise.
    ------"Shhh... you're awake already?" The voice startled him. He would have jumped if his body didn't feel so heavy. Instead, he opened his eyes once more and attempted again to make out what his swimming vision was trying to show him. It took a few moments for his sight to clear enough for him to see that there was a boy, probably not much younger than himself, peering down at him. His features were delicate, far more so than he'd seen on anyone else, and his complexion was fair. But the most intriguing and different thing about this person hovering above him was his stark, long pink hair. It cascaded down his shoulders, catching the sunlight that speckled his thin frame. He suddenly became aware that the thing that had brushed his face earlier was likely this boy's hand, as his head rested in the others lap.
    ------"Relax, you're going to be ok. I think. But I wouldn't move yet. I think you fell from a really far distance, but i'm not sure how." The voice chimed softly, a pleasant tenor voice that made him wonder if the boy was younger than he looked. But he didn't have much time to think about it; he felt his consciousness begin to slip again. His eyelids grew heavier and it wasn't long before he passed out once more, forfeiting himself to this stranger for better or for worse.



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    Last edited: Apr 12, 2016
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  3. Punkae Artist, Writer, and Professional Tea Addict ♥ [__________________________] Author [Varied-Genre]

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    Very intriguing! I'm interested to see where this leads. :meowevil:
  4. ShapeFlesh Active Member Writer [NSFW]

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    Hmm, you are unable to use tab in forum? I wonder if there is was around that, what do you think Punkea?

    Otherwise I guess we could write in a word docs or something first and then paste it in?
  5. Punkae Artist, Writer, and Professional Tea Addict ♥ [__________________________] Author [Varied-Genre]

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    Xenforo (or rather some of the code it's based on) takes out the space. It's not a matter of having the spaces or tabs, but rather keeping the text formatted that way when it's handled by this type/set of code.
  6. WanderingSketchPad Super Awesome SuperModerator [__________] Collections Manager Rambling Writer

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    I dunno I thought myself crafty to use ----- for the alternative since it is hard to see.
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  7. Punkae Artist, Writer, and Professional Tea Addict ♥ [__________________________] Author [Varied-Genre]

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    Yeah, it was a really smart solution and looks much better with the background of the site. x3
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  8. WanderingSketchPad Super Awesome SuperModerator [__________] Collections Manager Rambling Writer

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    have another part of a story xD edited first post too
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