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    1. #1
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      When the Last One Falls

      Metal clashes on metal.
      Salty blood finds its way to lips of a soldier; sweat and blood mingled.

      It seems all the world is covered in death; it seems every man fights, or bleeds, or dies. All the world is chaos and bloodshed – it is all the world to one man. Maybe others, also, but all he can think about is his part of the world. Another man may be fighting against him; swords hacking at each other, now finding a weak point, now sinking into flesh, now being lifted from the body to perhaps find another to plunge into. He has forgotten all else, if there ever was anything other than the actions which he now carries out. The man he just killed has been forever blotted from his memory. The fallen soldiers that lay around his feet do not register in his shocked mind. He recognizes only his pain, his need to be alive, his own thirst. But such selfishness is induced by his lack of perception; he neither sees nor understands that there are others around him. He is all alone in a world of monsters, in a place he considers to be the height of hell on earth. Blood from his sword drips and rewets his already bloodstained fist. Amid the screams and tortured groans of the dying, he feels a sort of silence. Is this Nothing? he wonders. To recognize Nothing – is this emptiness? Yet even his mind notices his thirst, and that cannot be Nothing.

      The sky is gray, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders why it is that ominous color. His hands keep moving; blocking, killing. He looks up: there are many against him. All at once and yet so exquisitely disjointed he battles what seems like metal-scaled dragons, their cold, hard, blood-red tongues piercing his skin. Another dragon – no, are they dragons? Or are they spirits? For they keep coming as if there is no end to them – it falls under his sword. He reaches a point in his soul that is still. Someplace deep tugs at his consciousness that promises solace. That promises Nothing.

      Something screams, but when he looks there is no one before him. His thoughts begin to wander away when a vine wraps its dewy tendrils around his ankle. Surprised, he looks down, only to find cold eyes staring up at him. He stares back. Another monster attacks him and he shakes the vine-like hand off of his ankle. Fighting back against his foe, his body moves almost by its own accord. His mind stays locked on the image of the eyes of the dead man. They were light blue, he remembered as he ran his enemy through with his sword. Light blue; and so calm. He decided he liked the way they looked. They looked a lot like Nothing.

      Scanning the field, he recognized the reddish brown liquid that covered everything. Blood, he had once called it, before he had come here and forgotten. Now he didn’t even know his name. Dotted here and there along the battlefield were bits of shiny – what is it? He moved towards them, and remembered that they were living things. In the way that he was alive. But they were things that needed to live no longer; that needed to meet the sharp edge of his sword. He fought one, and then another; wordlessly, soundlessly. Routinely. He knew no other world than this. He had never known any other world. Another one came, one of the things that were alive but should die. Dragons, he thought he remembered. No, not dragons. It was him, a reflection of himself fighting against him. He was a monster too. They were all monsters; outcasts trying to survive.

      All his thirst had died. The pain he felt was low, as if buried. He found that he liked the idea of being buried. How deep? Far down, where neither wind nor water could ever touch you? Where there is Nothing? How deep? Six feet wasn’t far enough, he thought. He watched a body fall to the ground, headless. Six thousand; six million! How deep could he go?

      Something hit his chest, then seemed to streak to his head. What was it? A feeling? A person? A reflection? He was still standing, but he could not see anyone else on the field. No dragons, no spirits, no mirrors. The ground was wet and slippery, and as he walked he tripped over things, but he couldn’t remember what they were. A yellowish gleam made his eyes squint. Oh. He remembered what that was. Sun. Or at least it used to be, back when he had a name. He fell to the ground. The sharp feeling pushed at his chest. He had forgotten what it was. Pain? Yes, pain, he thought. The oozing liquid he had slipped on had somehow gotten on his shirt, covered his body, he noticed. The sword – he would always remember sword – fell from his limp hand. Sun, he thought again. His head sank to the ground, but it seemed his mind kept falling. Deeper and deeper he felt himself go. There was no sun, no pain, no sword. He was not there; he kept going deeper – six thousand feet, now six million. It was darkness and light at once, there was no one; he was no one. Hell closed, the realm above waited. Space filled his time, his body, his mind. Then it left, and he was no longer falling. He knew had not landed, nor did he float. But he also knew this was not Nothing. He still thought, his mind still carried on. The threads of life began breaking, one by one, and his mind detached, freeing itself into a kind of Nothing he had never known before…
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    2. #2
      Callapygian Superstar Goldney's Avatar
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      It's god stuff Dallian. It kept me riveted. What was your inspiration? Is the soldier a Roman soldier, because that was the impression I got (or have I been thinking about 300 too much)... I really like the idea that although the soldier had nothing (no memories etc.) He still wanted more, for want of a better word, nothing. It's rather ironic.
      *............*............*

    3. #3
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      Sparkle

      Words like
      Free and
      Indifferent-
      Thoughts like
      Aloof and
      Flight;
      Songs like
      Whispered arrows
      That pierce the heart
      With gladness -
      They calm my being
      With clarity and
      Vivid hope.
      Friends like
      A pencil,
      A motion of stars -
      If only I could touch
      This fragrant emotion,
      If only I could catch it in my hands;
      I want to share it
      Carry it,
      For you to see inside
      The complex of
      The noise of a train racing by
      Or the look of a cloud
      That lazily finds the sun.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    4. #4
      Back by Unpopular Demand NeAvO's Avatar
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      Good stuff Dallian

      You're very talented! I like the way you use emotion in the "When the Last One Falls" it had a great way of showing emptiness almost as if the guy was in shock from the battle.

      "Sparkle" is really good too, like a writer/poet trying to capture a story using their hands.

      Keep up the good work!
      NeAvO's Nightly Journeys
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      Courtesy of Goldney
      Quote Originally Posted by Vex Kitten
      You're just jealous that I'm more of a man than you could ever be, sweetie pie.
      Shoot for the moon, even if you miss it you will land among the stars.

    5. #5
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      Thanks for the positive feedback, guys.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    6. #6
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      Dallian, you write beautifully. You have a unique way of allowing even the most violent scenes to sound so feeble and emotive. Very impelling, I&#39;d really love to read some more of your writing.

      Callum.

    7. #7
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      Your Lie

      How many times did you see me, as I walked past? I know you saw me. I know by the way your body tensed when you saw me from the corner of your eye. I know by the way your voice changed when you saw my shadow coming.

      But I don’t understand; please, show me.
      Why?
      Why did you hate me, why did you hide from my face? Could you not embrace your future? Did you not see what I would do?

      Hope and love played together in the cage of Death. You didn’t give them freedom; you held them captive. Arm’s length, you said; arm’s length. You can’t keep them too close, or they’ll kill your dreams. Oh, you were so blind.

      I was your dreams, I was your hope, yet you cowered from me. What did I do to deserve such treatment? You brought me into your care; you nurtured me, and now you throw me out. Did I not give you more than you asked for? I know I took care of you also; I covered your faults and helped hide your shortcomings. Your life was better when you held me close to you. I know you didn’t understand my reasons many times, but it was for the greater good.

      Tell me, wasn’t I a forgiving creature? You cannot say I did not overlook some of your worst weaknesses and keep you just the same. I hid you from the evil that wanted to devour you. But, even abundant mercy has an end. I could not count the times I embraced you after you had betrayed me. My patience, however, has found its end. You knew full well what the consequences of such traitorous actions would be. I know you knew.

      I know by the way your heart beat faster every time you used me as your shield. I know by the way you held back tears when you failed. You knew the time would come. You knew my shadow would fall and destruction would ensue. You followed all the signs, you could see in the corner of your eye my handiwork. But you still betrayed me.

      What is the consequence of your deceit? I wish I could hear you answer. Now, however, you are trapped. I chuckle at that thought. I might leave you to be punished by your own actions and repercussions of those, but I have been generous enough. How much weight can you take? How much guilt can you hold, heavy, on your heart before it is crushed? Before you are crushed? We shall see.

      Oh yes, we shall see.


      Do you still see me? Can you still feel my shadow, pressed against your dreams in the dark of night? I hope that, if it is only for an hour, you can fear the fall; fear the crash of the Death cage, and die without hope. Filled with guilt. Filled with pain. Oh, I hope you cry in your sleep, I pray that you shrink from people. Arm’s length, remember? Arm’s length at all times. But, my dear, you must remember that this is all your fault. It was you, not I, who invited me into your life. It was you, not I, who betrayed what you had no right to betray. And now it is you who will suffer. Don’t grovel now, darling, you knew full well how this would go. Nothing ever stays small, you know. Surely you did not believe the lie that I would be your pet forever.

      But I must bid you farewell. You are of no use to me now, and I have other…places to go. May your guilt see no end.


      Very truly,
      your Lie.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    8. #8
      Back by Unpopular Demand NeAvO's Avatar
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      Wow that&#39;s really good how long does it usually take you to right your poems/stories?
      NeAvO's Nightly Journeys
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      Courtesy of Goldney
      Quote Originally Posted by Vex Kitten
      You're just jealous that I'm more of a man than you could ever be, sweetie pie.
      Shoot for the moon, even if you miss it you will land among the stars.

    9. #9
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      Depends. If I have an idea, and sometimes even if I don&#39;t, I&#39;ll just start writing and shaping the story. If it&#39;s a more complicated or longer story, it can take a week or so. I&#39;ve got some very long stories still half-written now, actually.

      As for poems, usually not more than a couple minutes. Exceptions, yes of course; it may take me half an hour to make it how I want it.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    10. #10
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      Almost Like Love

      When I think about
      What music is,
      I feel a rush of
      Excitement, like love;
      Anxious wonderment
      At the beauty
      And the thrill
      Of the indescribable creation.

      How can it be
      That I am part of this
      Flowing magic,
      This empty void filled
      With unknown sounds
      That reach into
      The deepest corners
      Of my open soul.

      Rhythm like heartbeats -
      So indefinable -
      Incapable of being described,
      Pulsing like a living creature:
      Speaking of lost worlds,
      Fallen angels,
      Broken feelings -
      Sing back to me a remembrance.

      How is it?
      What is this thing
      That seems to move of its
      Own accord like
      An ocean without a moon;
      The immense wildness
      Of this music
      Paralyzes me with awe.

      And I feel it.
      Cold as ice seeping into
      My veins,
      Warming again with the throbbing
      Of a tornado of soul
      Swirling in my heart,
      Making war
      And inciting peace.

      Why is it I am part of this
      Rhythm of the gods,
      Thrown down to me;
      I cannot understand this beauty.

      It soothes, it riles me,
      And I never cease to thirst for it.

      Almost like love.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    11. #11
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      Those who have cared to dispute your ability to create awesome imagery need only read this to know that you create it with every word you put to paper, explicitly or otherwise I think this is an amazing piece and its written beautifully. You&#39;ve managed to illustrate with your oceans without moons and tornadoes of soul so many seemingly indescribable feelings of mine. I sometimes think that it is the fault of talented writers like you that I don&#39;t put pen to paper more often. I guess, I find myself feeling as though what there was to say has, now, been said and could not possibly be related any better, why try? Of course, between you and I, we know that that is just an excuse

    12. #12
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      Those are fantastic peices of writing. Keep up the good work&#33;

    13. #13
      Look away wendylove's Avatar
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      In the words of Andre Breton &#39;I refuse to go into your room&#39;
      Xaqaria
      The planet Earth exhibits all of these properties and therefore can be considered alive and its own single organism by the scientific definition.
      7. Reproduction: The ability to produce new organisms.
      does the planet Earth reproduce, well no unless you count the moon.

    14. #14
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      Then don&#39;t. The exit&#39;s that way.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


    15. #15
      Look away wendylove's Avatar
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      Have you got a story with some dialog in it?
      Xaqaria
      The planet Earth exhibits all of these properties and therefore can be considered alive and its own single organism by the scientific definition.
      7. Reproduction: The ability to produce new organisms.
      does the planet Earth reproduce, well no unless you count the moon.

    16. #16
      aka MoT, MoTster, Shadow Dallian's Avatar
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      I have a couple, but they&#39;re quite long.. about thirty pages long.
      Bats are nocturnal.



      Adopted: Ceril ....Adopted by: NeAvO
      Ooh, I finally have a dream journal.


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