|
|
Post by Sekot on Apr 18, 2014 22:07:08 GMT -5
Quiet cars pass
into the dark
on journeys long
and winding.
Headlights flashing forward, spilling
into the bushes of side trees
and caught by the eyes of
observant creatures.
He ran a hand through his hair, scratched at the back of his skull. He tapped his fingers in errant rhythm against the worn leather of the steering wheel. The dashboard glowed a cherry red, reflecting off his pale face. He adjusted the glasses on his nose.
Somewhere a piano plays,
and they listen. Somewhere
a lover lies and together
they whisper.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Apr 24, 2014 22:30:37 GMT -5
Her eyes melted on the glass. The soft window pane cried tears of mercury. Silver globes dripped down pale snow-covered hills. The moon opened to reveal craters of ivory bone. Made of ice and glass she danced delicately on the edge of the razor, overlooking the side that peered into the vast world of teeming life. Caught on the edge of the looking glass those poor observers clutched their chests as they watched her teeter.
And in her prayers were the altars. The sacrificial places perched on the words of forgotten monks that wandered ancient rotted halls. She climbed the stairs, every last moss covered stone until she reached the tower's end. And there she watched the moonrise. Watched as it came to shape in the sky above her, shimmering to life. Stainless, metallic light draped her little village, lighted upon the houses like silver flame, and faded into the alleyways where it was devoured. The wrathful met her gaze and laughed.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Jul 21, 2014 16:49:20 GMT -5
He claimed God was dead.
I claimed I killed Him.
All that avaricious feuding set them on paths of unending inability.
I have come, my children. I have come to burn your kingdom. I have come to burn it all to the ground.
There was a growl to his voice, a deep unholy thrum that struck at your inner self, that pulled you apart as you became the instrument of his speech. And those drums began to beat. Bone against skin. A rum-pu-pum-pumm.
Wings stretched across pale sky, sunlights faded. Moons were swallowed. Time was sent wandering, wondering. And we lost all ability to lie. Immolation swept as if prayer had lost its way across great expanses of tenable souls. They were devoured. Hungrily by armies of malcontent and malicious rage.
He laughed at me. He grinned. I stared back. A set of mirrors, a set of twins staring at one another across space so broad we lost worlds. Raging fire twinkling light he glistened like a wet moth. I a monster, a deepening wound sank and stank through memory depths. A clash of swords would rend us in two, but still we approached with all the subtlety of moving mountains. Rolling stone and churning magma were our wake. Felled remnants of fossilized trees our prints of passing.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kaez on Jul 21, 2014 20:39:15 GMT -5
ur such a weirdo lol
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Jul 21, 2014 21:17:32 GMT -5
 i no not how take this |
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Aug 6, 2014 20:17:44 GMT -5
The doors to the gates slid open on ancient, moss-covered hinges. A cloud of dust was pulled outward as the seal was broken, temporarily blinding him. He took a few steps forward, leather feet padding softly against cold stone. He waved his hand across his face to dissipate the remaining dust. He stopped, felt his heart racing in his chest. Cold. It pierced through his thick armor plating, through the clothes he wore and chilled his bones.
The hall before him stretched a good hundred yards from the threshold. The floor tiles were cracked and broken, the intricate designs having decayed over countless years. What little light there was spilled through muddied glass in windows as tall as giants that lined the walls. But what light there was was dark, another layer of shadows upon an already abyssian interior. He took another step, crossing the threshold and entering the room.
At the end sat a throne. It glistened in an odd fashion, as if it were an apparition or having crossed from dream to reality. Or reality to dream. His clothes felt heavy as he gazed upon it, his shoulders and back bowed underneath the mounting pressure. It became difficult to breathe, the thick air choking him alive. He dropped his weapons, the mighty halberd suddenly feeling off-weight and rusted. It cracked when it hit the ground. He dropped his shield with the long forgotten crest of the kingdom upon it, a crest that no longer looked as pristine and awesome as before.
He continued forward, passing by countless mirrors and artwork that still held within them a certain inspiring power. He wanted to stop and look upon them, to be reminded of what this place once was. But instead all he could do was gaze upon the throne that beckoned. He removed his helmet, let it fall. He unclasped his cape and chest plate and tossed them aside. Their whispers spoke to him, clamored at him. The doors behind slowly began to shut.
His body tingled. It shook and creaked with every passing step. They begged him not to go, to turn away. Voices of those once loved, once known, of visitors and helpers in his quest. He felt their manifested souls at his side, flitting into and out of his view. Their faces were contorted, painful, their stares as empty as his. He ignored them as he continued, now bare of clothing. No longer aware of the temperature, his lips and fingers had turned blue, he felt the upswell within him. The rising tides of longing, so strong he produced an erection. Ignoring the voices, he stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up.
It was upon the mountain top, upon the tower. It stretched in every direction, imposing itself on space and time and forcing reality to its animate will. It undulated, pulsed like water with a heartbeat. Alive. The voices had gone silent. The visions no longer fighting for his attention. The paintings nearest him still held within the visage of the final monarchs. Their regal robes adorned and crowns shining brightly upon godly heads, they averted their eyes. They would not look upon the throne and instead gazed forever toward the door.
The stone at his feet was gold, lines of silvered marble working their way into creating images of lions and birds of prey. Sunlight rained upon the mighty throne, peering through stainless glass, prismatic colors dancing in the warm, summer air. He took a step, closer and closer he came. A trembling hand reached out. He brushed the foot of the throne, a pulse of electricity arcing upward from his fingers and wrapping itself around the tall back. The wood was well-polished, impossibily smooth. It felt as if it were made of glass.
He stood before it. Felt it pull him toward it. All around him he felt its presence, it grew around him. Arms outstretched from the chair, offering embrace. He pivoted on his foot no longer bare. The black fur cloak billowed about him as he did so. He cracked his fingers caught in oxblood leather. Fine cloth adorned his chest, the ancient crest emblazoned in gold and shining radiant in the light. The crown in his hands felt light, a crown of feathers.
He placed it on his head, felt power enter him through every orifice. He was filled, no longer needing to breathe or drink, defecate or urinate. A transcendant body. He lowered himself into the throne, fire churning from his hands, burning in his eyes. Burning through his eyes.
The ancient doors remained closed. The hall continued to collect dust. The great sconces remained unnoticed along the walls. No light escaped, non-light entered. At the end stood the throne, shattered remnant of what it once was. The wood had lost its polish and was covered in splinters. Upon the throne sat a man, a crown of thorns placed upon his head, dried blood dribbling from his cranium. His eyes had been gouged out, his fingers blackened stumps. Naked as the day he was born, the once-savior of the kingdom lay as perished remnant.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Sept 8, 2014 21:31:48 GMT -5
He passed like a ghost. Glimmered in the firelight. Made of smoke and mist, he flitted from alley to alley. Above the roofs burned in the crisp night air, smoldering on thatched ceilings and leaping from house to house. Wood cracked and snapped. With each pop he would appear only to disappear a moment later. A blinking mirage, a light going on and off constantly. There was a breeze as if a vacuum had opened at his passing. A collective mix of gasp and sigh.
A dream eater. He wore robes of bone. His eyes were nonexistent, instead replaced by mirrors. His many mouths bared their thousand teeth in silence. In his fragile, spindly hands he held two great axes made of obsidian and blood. They dragged on the ground, kicking up dust and living a trail of grime. His reality was not their reality, only dwelling on the split between realm of the corner of the eye. Look directly at him and he was gone. A transient memory. He had always been. He never was.
The dream eater was at the window. An explosion illuminated the night sky and his silhouette. Many dancing shadows all copies of his uncorporeal form seeking entrance from distant dimensions. Space began to bend around the room he sought to enter, the window came to life and smiled wide. He passed through, the scrape of his blades screeching like a fresh banshee. Time simultaneously slowed and quickened. He ceased moving but he was everywhere. The prey was already dead, never born, yet to be born, alive. His craft at work.
At every night in every room in every shadow he was there. Windows and doors melted into abstract concepts. Escape was a nonconcept. He was he and they were they and together they would become he. The dream eater raised his hands, the giant axes falling to his sides, once more satiated. His robes of bone clattered about him, an off-tune windchime.
Gone. Disappeared. Imagination.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kaez on Sept 9, 2014 8:35:14 GMT -5
You strange, strange creature.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Oct 18, 2014 17:24:31 GMT -5
He leaned forward and whispered into my ear. He relaxed, fell back, and stared. Smoke colored eyes gazed, dark brows knotted together. He pursed his lips, attempted a smile. I stared back. The world cracked.
In his word were written soft lines. A gentle touch on my chest, fingertips brushing lightly across my collarbones. He outlined the muscles and graced the bony claws of my ribs. Grasping me he pulled me up from my seated position and time stopped. We stood close, open mouthed. Our breath met in the twilight space between us, mingling and battling. A war was fought in our minds, telepathic chains linked only through our eyes. In his stare I saw eternity.
He whispered to me, came closer until our bodies touched. His warmth smothered me. I felt his heart racing against mine. A question was offered, sacrificed, and the answer was laid bare. My silence a coffin. He spoke of our godhood, of our dominion, of the spaces we were crowned kings. I only knew of empty rooms, of dusty halls and shattered windows.
He took my hand in his, a grip strong as ice. A face that raged as bright as fire. He pulled me away, spun me. My feet moved, glided across a graveyard of stars. A name he gave me, but I shut my eyes against it. My ears betrayed me. It rang loud and true, emblazoned across my chest and back, wrapping around me to suffocate me.
I felt one hand rest on my heart, the other on the back of my head. He steadied me, only then was I recognizing the weakness in my legs. He shouted, but too quickly I faded. Too much. Overwhelming. Maybe another time.
What did we learn in the dark glass?
His eyes. Dark eyes. Black eyes. Eyes of coal, eyes of ash. Disappearing in a cloud of dust in the still cold breeze. Crackling fingers scratching on broken shards of lead and steel that dot a landscape barren. He smiled at me and it was water. It melted and collapsed. His embrace was a suffocating warmth of furnace blast.
We gasped for air, treaded water. Around us in the mirror pond grew the thickest trees. Their towering branches arced like lightning across the starless sky. Twin moons of orange and blood drifted beyond them, caged. Leaves of stories sat in the branches, created myriad miasmas of rainbow colored pages. We looked at each other, our noses barely above the surface. In that look of his I saw forgiveness, I saw surrender.
I saw reluctance. I was reluctant. Was I seeing me?
We met on the floor. We shared our stories. We danced until the sun fell and until it rose again. We laughed and held hands. He was warm. Calm. A smile that could melt a thousand empty hearts. He spoke to me of a future. I was enamored. He spoke to me of a promise, and I grew wanting.
He was there, at the end. Amongst the ageless stones and tallest trees. No star still shown, all that remained was us. We gave off our own light, gold and orange. He reached out to me and I took his hand. We smiled. He gestured.
Together we walked off the edge of the world.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Oct 18, 2014 19:13:36 GMT -5
The world slipped into view, rising over the barren horizon. It glistened neon blue and purple. The surface was hidden behind swirling masses of toxic clouds. Within that cover flickered an eternal storm that stretched like a scar across it. He watched it rise, his fingers twitching in their gloves. Through the UV shield the planet pulsed, radiating energy that bathed the satellite dead. Sensors screamed at him, beckoning him to move, to leave and seek shelter. He took in a deep breath of recycled stale air and ground his jaw.
He took a step closer to the edge of the roof. His eyes narrowed, the visor autocorrected the sight gauge. Hidden in the light of the starplanet were silhouettes. Countless points of darkness. Dreadnoughts. He swore his heart skipped a beat. A glance at the HR monitor told him otherwise. In fact, it was dropping. Parasymp systems kicking themselves online. "Can I get a TOA on those noughts?"
"Negative. Their shielded. Only got a visual."
"Alright friends, we're on a schedule."
He waved his hand. The hair on his neck tingled as the peripherals sent signals up his spine. The companion-minds gathered the information and processed it before he knew what was happening. Memories floated forward as the after-message. They had always been there. Clad in black, ten assailants ready to assault a fortress. He turned his head, the HUD flickering into life. Messages between comp-minds were exchanged along telepathic bio links. Affirmatives.
He took a step forward and dropped off the edge of the roof.
There was a distinct lack of wind rushing in his ears. He fell silently downward from the top of the skyscraper. Windows darkened against the glare of planetrise hid him from the residents inside. Below him more artificial constructs rose up to meet him. He plummeted amongst them, diving through the vertical alleys into a dark underworld, a city that had no bottom. Closed systems these buildings, a world with no atmosphere. Decadence.
He brought his arms close to his body, falling like a spike. A comrade fell faster, spiraling out of control. There were no screams, there was no fear. He watched the speed, watched it slowly creep upward until he reached terminal velocity. Eternity. His HR never rose over 60. The parasymp was running in overdrive. He would have a hell of a headache if he survived this. Fuck that, he'd have a hell of a bodyache for days. If he survived.
Thrusters were activated. His companion went wild, smashed into the side of a tower and exploded in blood and sparks. The memory went blank, it never existed. "Here we go," he whispered.
The thought was shared and others responded in kind.
There was a snap, a shimmering light. And then his world collapsed. A brief moment of weightlessness. All momentum was lost, he was outside of himself.
Then he was standing in an open space. His mind slow to react kicked in medulla protocol. Autopilot. The black suit shed itself from him, splitting apart and clattering onto the marbled floor. Every muscle burned as it tightened and relaxed along preset guidelines. He spasmed. Eight memories slid into his conscious forebrain. Eight soldiers preparing. Dimly he was aware of his target adjusting to the sudden intrusion.
He rose to his full height, his eyes adjusted. His skin slid and shuddered as he was finally free of technical equipment. Bones cracked as they reassembled. The quantum gates were never gentle. The target shuddered as well, hunkered forward as it turned its head from side to side to assess the situation. Tall and radiant, she was an Unknowable. A goddess.
Her white robe shivered as her broad shoulders grew. Her back arched. Her eyes burned a bright golden yellow. His fingers twitched, gripped the weapon at his side. She turned her gaze to him. Recognizing him. She smiled. An empty laugh passed across her pale lips. "So you have come. We have waited for you."
The room was wide. Flat. Nothing but floor, ceiling, and windows for walls. She stood in the center. All lights dimmed, only those above her showering her in their warmth. She too rose to her full height, shedding the cloak and revealing herself. A blur, a mirage, her image shifted as an uncontrollable storm. Behind her the starplanet continued its rise. The glass of the windows protected them from the violent radiation, but still it glowed a painful bright.
Her body twisted. It contorted and grew. Without so much as a warning, her arms extended. Giant claws sat at the end of skeletal fingers. Her jaw opened and metal teeth glimmered inside. More machine than person.
He gripped his weapon, it extended. Part blade, part whip, it hissed softly. His nostrils flared as he took in the scent of oil, of a micro reactor, of several. The memory was passed but too late. The ceiling collapsed. Down came white clad machiners. They twisted along axes, producing multiple limbs from their central chassis. Their faces smiled, beckoned of polite times even as they wielded instruments of torture. His comrades spun into action, their specific bio augments wielded against technologized madness.
The air was alive, electrified. His heart was met with double, two hearts coming to life. Within him was born another. A blade appeared before him, beyond his view, but he sidestepped. Another mind became aware. Two in one body he moved fluidly through the machiners, splitting them apart. A voice inside him roared in pleasure.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Oct 18, 2014 20:26:56 GMT -5
what is life and what is
death
what is dying and what is
living?
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Nov 8, 2014 20:49:10 GMT -5
And the skies cracked open dripping light from astral places. He looked at me with those wide eyes, blue eyes, blue skies draining of color sitting grey. He raised an arm, a hand, a wave before stepping overboard over the cliff tumbling down. Great arms spread great wings enveloped body thin. He soared he roared upward upon wings of feathers and flesh of fire a pyrrhic pleasure.
I struggled to wipe the tears from my eyes to escape into the memory palaces of long forgotten imaginative royalty. We were dancing the shadows behind me and I could only ignore them as I focused on a point so far into the future that the past itself began to end. Anger sits and dwells in the caves of heart spaces and is burned into flesh and blood at the rate of tachy.
I've been sitting here pouring over these words until my eyes ran blood and I sat and dwelled and pondered over a body that lay open to expectation. Tools and instruments of inquiry drifted in and out of conscious nospace, out of electric portals quantum thoughts relayed messages from long distant dimensions. If only they were useful.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Apr 7, 2015 20:59:06 GMT -5
He felt the Nemesis come to life under his body, felt the tingling pain coursing down his spine and through the brachial plexus. It seared his sacrum as it arced toward his toes. He spasmed, his body lifting itself off the chair as it attempted to bring head to toes. His neck, still connected, cracked as bones split under pressure. Tide's body collapsed backward. His arms thrashed once then lay still. The ship roared, a deep, pounding hum that shook his frail form. His heart beat in time with the ship's pulse, all lights dimmed, and he was floating.
Space was absent warmth. His metal body radiated heat and felt only cold in return. His attention was all consuming, he could see in every direction but felt nothing. What he witnessed was a graveyard. Broken and shattered hulls lay strewn in clumps, glittering light reflected from the far distant system star. Ranging from the size of a missing panel to the nose of dreadnaughts, these ships were as old as time itself. Certain pieces registered as being from before the Alienation. The eight planets of the system each had their own set of rings, a few having multiple, comprised entirely of ancient fleets. The star itself glowed a bright red as it lay on a critical period. Soon it would grow to consume those planetoids too close to its surface.
"It is there we must go," Daedalus' voice spoke within his mind-space. "To the third planet. A long forgotten home. That is where you will find the Unspeakable threat you are tasked to end."
Twelve other Nemesis ships were next to him, floating in loose formation. Waiting. Adrienne's emotional cloud touched his and together thoughts were shared. He felt the hunger of her Nemesis-self, he felt his more than a match. He bared his teeth, another hum roaring through his bones. Blood was in the water.
"Welcome, Godsborn!"
A face flickered before them, Tide reared back instinctively.
"Come! We have much to discuss. Especially you, Tide. The ocean of your Naming has dried."
The words were a spear piercing his connection to his ship. He was thrust back into his aching body, bile rising up his throat. That saying was one said to him on his Age Day, one said to him by someone long since dead. Only one other person knew those words. "The depths of your passion know no bounds," he responded, unsure if his voice would even carry.
The bull-man on his throne laughed. The sound echoed through space as rippling radiation. He felt bathed in terrifying warmth.
"You remember. Good. Come, we have much to discuss."
The bull-man rose from his seat, flat musculature flexing as he pulled forth a giant hammer made of bones out of thin air. Somehow Tide recognized those as Crucean bones, could somehow recognize the faces in the skulls on the hammer's end.
"Des! Stop, what are you doing?!" Tide couldn't contain himself. He felt his body attempt to rise, attempt to reach out through space as the bull-man turned. It stopped and bowed its head. More laughter washed upon him, bathing him in the fire that consumed his home.
"Meet me, and I will speak."
The image faded, leaving Tide alone with his thoughts. And an unwelcome guest. He felt her question but ignored it. Instead he felt his anger rise, he felt his pulse quicken and the Nemesis responded in kind. The engines burst into white stars as they were kicked into motion. Space lurched as it attempted to keep up, physics bending inward on itself to comprehend. A quantum tear was opened and the ship slipped through only to reappear a breath later several thousand meters forward.
Adrienne cursed and followed, the other Nemesis craft already in pursuit.
"Control your anger, Tide. You will tear this ship apart before we reach the surface."
Tide said nothing, only having so much spare attention to wish that the old man would just fuck off. The first graveyard came up quickly, a planet's worth of metal and scrap. He felt his sensors come alive with warning signals. He tingled. The Nemesis was flying across a large section of grey hull, a blurry reflection written on its surface. He could see the weapon emplacements on the ship turn to face him, could feel the searching hands of targeting suites groping his body.
The ship spun away. Thrust kicked in again, another quantum tear. Plasma fire met the history, failed to notice the shifting memory. Tide was ahead, he was behind. Space became alive. The surface of the ship darkened, swarmed as defense networks engaged themselves. Sensor suites slid off of him, grasped in empty space at mirror projections and false memories. Remnant ships still large enough to contain weaponry lit each other up, emptied entire banks of weapons on one another and anything caught in between. The ancient battle was replayed across pasts and futures, the peaceful bubble ruptured by present threat.
He felt Adrienne shouting at him, felt himself shouting back. Rage and surprise were shared. The Nemesis' own plasma fire arced outward at scattered panels and fractured fighter craft before they could respond. Tide streamed past them, frantically fluctuating in time and space in an attempt to avoid numerous tails. He felt as if he were flying through a cloud, the view ahead of him so choked with parts moving in constant directions.
Then he was past it, through it. The cloud thrashed madly behind him but quickly grew still as the last Nemesis slipped across some invisible barrier. The same laughter from before again echoed, taunting Tide and Adrienne. All Tide could imagine was Des' face, his yellow frail hair, his hungry eyes. The lie. The ship responded once more to his rage, it belched flame and began to slim as it gathered energy.
In the near distance a planet churned. Yellow-white-brown-red. A deep scar rotated upon it, churning infinitely within the thick miasmatic clouds. Tide could feel the weight of it pressing on him, felt himself slipping toward it along an impossible slope. Suddenly it grew, it exploded into a star raging and vomiting blue flame. Then it was replaced. A binary system, twin stars cannibalizing one another as they continued their endless dance. It was gone.
He was watching the end of time. A hole so deep it swallowed all thought. It existed so strongly that it was all he was. He was Empty. He was Hungry. He was swallowing light, he was swallowing time. He was Existence.
It was gone. So was he.
The Nemesis screamed. He screamed with it. His body was torn apart and reassembled. Daedalus was next to him, behind/front of him. Daedalus was old. Daedalus had wings. Daedalus burned. Tide witnessed his rebirth as a flowering of color in a pool of water. Golden leaves erupted in ancient thought and spilled their words onto the endless purple oceans swirling tightly around nimble fingers. His mind screamed in twisted agony as it attempted to comprehend itself in its entirety, as it attempted to understand its own immortality it confined itself into eternal dying. Hands were grasping, grinning as faces were pulled from stomachs and slathered on soles of broken feet. He felt his breath as it was stolen, as it came to life in his lungs and tore itself free to run as wild as the children underneath an emerald sun.
The third planet rotated gently before him. Brown-black. Charred and scarred, it had upon its surface a written memory of ancient fears. Clouds sat upon the horizon line just out of view, lightning flickering madly. It no longer rotated on an axis, the one side forever facing the red star. The Nemesis was nearing it, coming closer and closer and all Tide wanted to do was run. He was alone. He had lost Adrienne and the others. Somewhere on that planet was Des, somewhere on that planet was a painful memory.
|
|
|
|
Post by James on Apr 12, 2015 4:34:40 GMT -5
Oh, that's some good stuff there.
I felt like that snippet was a little tidier than what I've read before. Adrienne's one piece of dialogue was a bit on the nose, but the prose was really nice. It felt a little more polished, a little more... esoteric? Probably not the right word. It definitely had a bit of a poetic feel to it at times, which I like. It works. Keep it up. Although it was your short sentences that cemented everything together "Space was absent warmth", "the bull-man on his throne laughed". They provide a flow through the longer, more descriptive parts.
Edit: Not sure if you were even looking for someone to reply, but I finally got around to clicking on your thread and then saw it was from your March story, so quickly went away and read it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sekot on Apr 17, 2015 7:09:19 GMT -5
Oh, that's some good stuff there. I felt like that snippet was a little tidier than what I've read before. Adrienne's one piece of dialogue was a bit on the nose, but the prose was really nice. It felt a little more polished, a little more... esoteric? Probably not the right word. It definitely had a bit of a poetic feel to it at times, which I like. It works. Keep it up. Although it was your short sentences that cemented everything together "Space was absent warmth", "the bull-man on his throne laughed". They provide a flow through the longer, more descriptive parts. Edit: Not sure if you were even looking for someone to reply, but I finally got around to clicking on your thread and then saw it was from your March story, so quickly went away and read it. I appreciate the feedback. I'm probably going to dump ending ideas here from time to time, though they may not end up in the rewrite in the exact same way. Its mostly just to get an idea of what works and what doesn't. I've written that description twice, so I'm glad it came out better the second time. |
|
