We were Dreamers once

[Sekot]

Due to the shifting nature of my style and having created a thread that is easily 20 pages of mopey nonsense, I have decided to continue my stream-of-consciousness style in a new thread that will hopefully be cheerier while still retaining the particular erratic, insane horror I have/continue to perfect. Seriously, my old thread is three fucking years old.

You wish you could dance as well as me.

His eyes said it all, that smile. All eyes were transfixed, enraptured, captured upon that lithe form that gyrated and twisted to the primal thump hump thump. A seductor, an incubus, a delightful carnival all for us to watch. Were we not entertained? Our slack jaws and drooling lips were his applause. Money rained, big ol' dollar bills that made ya holler. We sipped our drinks, reveled in the strength of the bitter fluid, and ignored the mind that warned against the physical descent.

Madness clung to the walls, clung to the tongue. It rained in golds and yellows, in silvers and reds, in flashing strobes that mitigated the disastrous attempt at dancing. Life flickered in moments, in brief glimpses before fading into the nothing, into the blanket fog of ecstasy. A miasmatic stench, filled with a mixture of sweat tears blood and alcohol, splayed themselves before our bodily gods. We were kings and queen underneath those lights, we were all lovers and haters and ignorant of the coming sun.

Twitching spasmatic fingers traced infinitismal lines upon the other, the ethereal and corporeal met at a distant place that was met for instants on the second. Held underwater we taught each other how to breathe. Here we were no sons or daughters but merely there, a collective presence. And from the flickering darkness came the many jeering faces, delicately crafted monster nightmares erected to Pyrrhic deities distilled from stars. We crafted our own cages and danced upon our own stages glistening for their pleasure for the sheer power that emanated from the collected visions.

All eyes on me bitch. All eyes on us bitches. All my eyes on you. Sight visited only to be removed but a second a bat of the eyelash later. I'm a motherfuckin monster a seductress a horrible creation come to lay waste and maybe I'll have drenched myself in my own piss but I already have all those looks all those attentions gathered in my own.

[Kaez]

oh good.

[Sekot]

Aug 13, 2013 18:22:46 GMT -5 Kaez said:

oh good.

dont know if sarcasm or genuine relief

[Kaez]

Aug 13, 2013 18:50:39 GMT -5 Sekot said:

Aug 13, 2013 18:22:46 GMT -5 Kaez said:

oh good.

dont know if sarcasm or genuine relief

no sarcasm here no sir

[Jenny (Reffy)]

Love reading your stuffs, Sekot. The free-flow and ease of it - amazing.

[Sekot]

Aug 14, 2013 2:53:35 GMT -5 Jenny (Reffy) said:

Love reading your stuffs, Sekot. The free-flow and ease of it - amazing.

Awww thank you Reffy, that means a lot from you and I really appreciate it.

@kaez: wat u a liar

Filled this glass high with the sweetest liquor and tasted the sweet ecstasy of the mindless chick grinding against my. Its the rhythm of the thing the rhyme that brought them all together here underneath these fuckin smoky ass lights. All kinds of faces all kinds of colors and I'm left wandering wondering what the fuck this shit is supposed to be. We were the monster bitches we were the high class moneyed folk that haunt the nightmares of the littlest homeless brat.

I was made of fire as I spoke before them all I was a motherfuckin beast up there.

[Sekot]

Cold were the wilted hands that dragged across his face. With eyes shut he was content to let himself be lost from the world, but that had other plans. It was a lack of darkness that haunted him most. Where others believe that behind their lids lies only black, he had written there the lines of an ever-evolving play. A play in which there was no beginning and no end, and who's author continued to rake their hands across him. It leaned in close, grasped him by the neck. The metallic feel of their flesh sapped the warmth from him, chilled him. He could feel their breath against his ear, almost feel the touch of the fleshy tooth coverings that approximated the lips brushing lightly. Whispers sank deep into him. Cruel, callous voices spurring on the deeply-seeded hatred and bile.

He had no name, the play provided none, for them. Nothing more than abstract presence and metaphoric ramblings. What existed never was, and that was his private madness. He dared not share it to the world unless he somehow curse them to the same fate of the invisible auteur. Laughing quietly, seeding misery. There was no sleep, only words. There was no peace, only fear. Certain words had begun to lose their meaning, what was was and they were here.

He had tried to write out the play. He had tried to inscribe a diary, a manuscript of future predictions, but as soon as the words touched the page they evaporated. They became jumbled and contorted until they were mere scratches.

[Sekot]

We are decadence. Proud manes rising upward in silky waves, golden straw and fiery bronze. Elegant swan and clacking baboon. Strut, strut, work. Glazy eyes and smeared lipstick. Five layers of eyeshadow over two layers of concealer. A lotion that makes your skin pop. The peacock has nothing on these. Raging fist pumping to the echo of a distant emotion. Separated the mind flutters in the empty space while the body meets ecstasy.

Caught in the bath haus those submerged rise. Thick bubbles pop and coagulate on the darkened surfaces of the crystalline pools. Hands and heads, faces and hearts.

[Sekot]

It was warmth in that hand outstretched. He took it firmly, wrapped his fingers tightly around the others. A foreign desire overwhelmed him, a stranger crept into his heart. He gasped, suddenly recognizing he had forgotten to breathe. His chest ache, thick fibers loosened in his lungs. The other pulled up with overpowering strength, driving him upward and into the others arms. He straightened, uncomfortable in the embrace. He could only muster silence, only stare as he slowly came around to understanding.

The ship gathered dust as it listlessly floated. Icy chunks of forgotten material lazily orbited around the derelict craft. Great chunks had been torn away from its hull, exposing it to the irradiated light of the nearby stars.

He opened his eyes. Once more he was only accompanied by the impenetrable quiet. He wondered if today would be the day that he would speak. Then he wondered what today was. A memory that clung to the distant crevices of his mind, amongst many others too stubborn to be wiped clean. A word with a name but no meaning. He thought to rise from the long vacant seat he had claimed as his own, but his body would not rise. Lights danced before his vision, screens and images flickering wildly before returning to dormancy. Words that had no meaning, images that had no faces. He felt lost.

A hand outstretched, a hand received. An invitation. A gesture of welcome. Strength, one who had not lay within a grave for infinity but lived. A god, an ancient thing, come to redeem the trespasser. To forgive. An embrace, a trap and a deathwish, but nevertheless so much like the womb.

"Leave me."

The first spoke, a crashing, resounding echo in his skull. His throat was on fire, his lungs and heart already pulling and pumping to recover. Desperation. Fear. Tears. Instantly frozen, they too floated in the empty space, the quiet space that insulated his speech. It was only him that heard. Only him that knew. Even now, against the body of another, all he could hear was himself. Choking, he struggled. He attempted to push himself away, to screech and clamor but the louder he yelled the louder the echo. And the tighter the grip became. Gnashing, biting, scratching, anything to get his point across. But the other did not relent. The other held tighter.

The planet glowed, an ever present source of light, golden-red. The one working piece of equipment, the receiver, still crackled as it picked up mixed signals from the distant body. Constant. A fade in and fade out of static as the light itself waxed and waned. It was a time-piece, a marker for the passage of something. Like day, time had lost its meaning. What was there to pass but eternity? What concept of death could he have when all things were dead? Great tracts of burn marks carved out recesses in the consoles, in the floors and ceiling. Fused forms still rested where they fell, burnt and charred and ashy remains that still retained the horrific agony. Stuck, frozen reminders that became set pieces, that became home. He had not named them. Unlike the stars and the time-world outside. They had names.

He fell still. Unable to fight any longer. Limp. The other loosened his arms, let go of some of their strength. He felt lost. Again. An emptiness swelled within him, deep uneasy emotion that had ripples of memories, but nothing was finite. Constantly out of his reach, he could only rest there together with the other as they floated. "Who are you?"

The words went unheard. The other squeezed lightly as if they had.

"Don't...not over the edge," he whispered as he struggled to pull the other back.

There was no floor, no ceiling or wall. Behind them floated the ship, the bridge torn out. Together they walked into oblivion. And oblivion welcomed them. For the first time he could look back and lay his eyes upon the tortured metallic heap. A skeleton, his grave, so foreign and unknown. Home. A tree of life. "What is this?"

"What does it look like?"

The voice was not his own.

"I do not know."

"Then it is nothing."

He struggled to shake his head, but the other merely pulled him closer. He rested his head on their chest.

"It is everything."

Light reflected from the infinite shards given birth by the vessel. Infinite stars added to the already massive number, each with a name. A memory attached to each. He looked outward, toward the distant planet. It hummed softly, thrummed and glowed. The other pressed their head upon his, and once more he heard the planet. A series of piano keys. A song. He could name those shards.

They laughed. Crowded around the electric piano, one of them drunkenly banged out a piece of music. They laughed again.

Alarms. Flashing lights. Sirens. Wails and screams.

"Who are you?"

Rumbling. Heaving. Screeching. Praying and cursing.

Lights out.

Stars.

Quiet.

Touch.

Embrace.

Pulled out. A voice. Sound and warmth.

[Sekot]

The bark of the gunshots were startling. They echoed down the hallway making their origin indistinguishable from their exit. Fire leaped from broken vents as the filtration system failed catastrophically. Smoke clung to the roof, climbing lower as it built upon itself in righteous, smothering fury. More barks. Then an explosion tore through a nearby wall sending dirt, rubble, and human parts flying in all directions. For a momentary second in time, the airborne debris was almost perfect in its concentrated purity. And then a finger or bone eyeball landed on someone's faceplate and reality came rushing back.

More smoke billowed outward to mix with the dense cloud of dust. Visibility was reduced to zero. "Move move move!"

The orders came loud and clear over the comm units. She checked her weapon to make sure it was loaded and then rose from her crouching position, keeping her sights trained on the source of the explosion and the hole it had ripped wide open. That was no access hall, that was pure earth. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen dirt, actual real dirt. Now she never wanted to again. Barks from behind. She swung around, two squadmates opened fire into a crowd that had appeared from around the corner.

Seconds passed. Messages were missed. Team members were slaughtered by team members. They dropped to the ground, the newcomers, blood already spilling across their white breastplates. Fear. It gripped them all. Shocked, her squadmates began screaming at one another, stammering. She ran past, leaping over the dead bodies of her comrades. Whatever had caused them to panic was coming their way, and she refused to stick around for it.

She heard her squadmates scream over the comm before they were cut short.

The suit weighed her down even though she knew it shouldn't. Her weapon felt as if it would slip out of her hands even though it was magnetically locked. She had to make it to the elevators. This Level was not safe. She practiced her litanies, prayed that she would make it. Voices stuttered over the comm but it was mostly static. Nothing coherent. Lines were systematically being cut. She was alone. All that training had prepared her and when the time came to it, she forgot it all or it all went to hell.

That's life, so many would tell her. Fuck that. This is bullshit.

Presence alarms began screeching in her helmet. She tried to tongue them off but more and more crept up. No hallways, no side passages or secret alcoves. They were in the earth, on the other side of the walls. How could they manage it? This far down? She had heard stories of course, about the bogeymen who could burrow underneath your bed and swallow you whole or take you with them to their hellish lairs. Fairy tales. Meant to teach children to fear Below. Who was she to ignore them?

More gunfire, up ahead a crossroads. She slowed her run to a jog then to a walk. Presence alarms had gone quiet. But she knew there was someone or someones there. They were unable to identify friend or foe.

Then they went ahead and did it anyway. Two stepped around the corner, weapons drawn. At first she was confused, then horrified. They weren't monsters at all. Not demons or bogeymen but actual humans. Covered head to toe in tattoos and their bodies augmented, they appeared no more frightening then your average street bum.

[Sekot]

As I was once so shall I have ever been a weeping child sent to entertain. I live for the applause a jester a maniacal laughter to bring a thing quite so small as a smile. Such peacefulness in the summertime breeze where the air is filled with the smoke of wood-burning fires. Leaves that held their breath in trepidation wrestled with one another in the lofty perches of the god-trees. Worshiped for their height the bushes bowed in reverence and snagged those passers-by who were deemed callous.

And we stop short as if we were a breath caught in the throat. Something to say something to feel something to mean but left with a certain emptiness.

Where have all the names gone?

[Sekot]

And we were

"Lovers"

"Victors"

"dreamers"

While upon this

"stage"

"drama"

"life"

And the echo cried aloud

"Forgive me"

"forget me"

"love me"

.


So shall we have

"listened"

"believed"

"sang"

about

"life"

"love"

"death"

"happiness"

"thing"

.

Quiet

"Peace"

"chaos"

"war"

"I am alive"

.

And so they

"cried aloud"

"sang along"

"danced"

and we

"laughed"

"cried"

"danced"

.

And they played

"upon the piano"

"like children"

"on fear"

and clamored

"for forgiveness"

"to remember"

"to forget"

and we were

"distraught"

"left"

"alive"

.

Clapping hands tightly against my chest I fall back into the open grave and look up into the sky and list all the names there. I watch as the stars gather, as they cluster and then burst. An explosion that uplifts me as I watch, that tears through me, that obliterates me and recreates me. I am alive.

Hands clasped tightly against his chest, we watched as he fell backward. A shallow hole left to swallow him, he shut his eyes and we shut ours. We heard it come, we listened as the silence abated. Like a crushing wave it came against us. Like a nightmare it descended and consumed us. We heard him go, heard him disappear. We are deceased.

Hands. Grave. Stars. Light. Silence. Sound. Darkness. Light. A trembling echo that lifts itself up out of the nothing acts upon him, a reminder, an alarm. To wake, to wake to never sleep he lifts himself up out of the womb. He is birthed upon the stage, birthed upon and recreates what they had viewed. He is a chaotic storm a thing to remember. A name forgotten, they merely contemplate as he ascends. They merely birth their own children in ignorant disquiet. Until the moment when the light returned and they were upturned and made anew


.

[Allya]

I don't know if you want comments in this thread. I can delete if needed. Anywho, just wanted to say I liked that last bit. I especially liked the form of the beginning. I also liked the phrase "ignorant disquiet." It hangs in the air and makes your point.

[Sekot]

Thank you Allya! Comments are always welcome and appreciated. I just tend not to invite them due to the "odd" style and because I rarely critique others work.

[Sekot]

Ripples. Singing voices reaching. And he looked upward to the sky that was filled with so many radiant stars, his eyes wide. Observing.

A voice, laughter by his side. Fading in and out. Voices. Conversation. His fingers dug into the cold sand. The heavy leaves of the palm trees flapped and shook in the wind that was picking up across the beach. The waves rushed forward, retreated, and repeated. Slowly he slid backward, resting his naked back upon the ground. An image appeared amongst the stars, amongst all their twinkling chatter. A memory faded in and faded out. Voices accompanied, all coming together perfectly. So well orchestrated. So false.

Yet a truth rang out from within. A solid kernel of reality amongst the images that crept through his self. Amongst the shimmering and the sparkling, there was an outline forming. A smile. Was it the stars that smiled? Off in the distance, the city that floated glistened with artificiality. It alone stood out upon the black glass of the sea. Around its halo, the stars were nothing. Unseen, unfelt, they were no more. From across the expanse, distant sound intruded upon his exile.

Behind him, smoke bellowed from the towers of stone and grass. Lightning played within the ash columns, danced together with youthful intensity. But amongst all the noise, the stars still shown and he still observed. The coldness of the surface he laid upon gripped him. He seized, his back arching and his grip tightening. The grains dug into him, split his skin and drew blood. His mouth opened in a silent gasp.

The world faded and the stars went out.

"Welcome home."

The words separated him from the momentary agony of the transition. His world came to and he then recognized the surroundings. Warm light cast upon dull walls, flickering candles lining where floor met wall. They floated in the air, danced along the ceiling. The bed he lay in was warm, the covers tossed aside and the sheets filled with a familiar odor. Heavy metal shutters shut out the world from inside the tiny room. He propped himself on his shoulders and looked toward the origin of the voice. A smile was flashed at him from across an old wooden desk. Papers littered the top, were scattered all over the floor. A pen in hand, the other scribbled more absent mindedly on a few of the sheets but was soon dropped. He moved to speak, to sit up completely. It was then that he noticed he was naked and he attempted to cover himself in shame.

"Now now, nothing I haven't seen before."

Another warm smile, unreflected however in the cold blue eyes, before the other stood up. A man, just as naked as he, strode forward and all but leaped onto the bed. Pushing him down their lips met. Confused for a moment, he felt he had to push away, to pull away. But the moment passed and he gave in. A memory, a fondness rekindled. Their embrace parted, and the kiss ended. The other rose, his face cast in a half shadow. Predatory eyes that hungered for more twinkled in the candlelight. He reached up to touch the other's face, and the other placed their hand against his. "Do you remember now?"

He nodded.

They leaned forward, pressed their lips against his ear and whispered. "I will always love you."

The light faded. The touch dissipated and the warmth of the bed evaporated. Voices came from the resulting darkness. Smiles danced like lightning amongst stars that were outshown by an artificial halo. He awoke.