| Subject: *deep sigh* Whoo ee.....that felt good. |
Author:
Hannah
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 18:38:46 08/26/02 Mon
In reply to:
Juniper Breeze
's message, "THIS ONE IS IN A LEGIBLE FONT...*grr*." on 18:30:41 08/26/02 Mon
>
>*EEP! I KNOW, I KNOW! Before you scan
>it and roar in earsplitting screeches.......JUST READ
>IT DAMNIT! PLEASE dont just skip over it and POST! I
>worked HARD on this, if it isnt obvious.....it
>DESERVES The respect of being read PRETTY PLEASE!!!!
>I talk about a couple people in here......so DONT just
>SCAN to the bottom! Or I will beat you to a sensless
>pulp with a cucumber!*
>
>As the pheonix, we rise from the
>ashes.......
>
>Our world, perhaps, is a mind alurring situation,
>known fully only to those of the brazen heart and
>flawless demeanor. Death and life....such fickle,
>meaningless words, but such a demuring depth buried
>beneath each. Anything can understand life, in its
>meer meaning. But it isnt seen as it is, an auiferous
>spiritual awakening, blasting trumpets of bold reverie
>and verberations of vividness. Life. It seems that
>way, doesnt it? How we take it for granted...do we
>ever pause to be thankful? Every day, does a bold
>harpsicord echo brilliantly across a verdant
>cheronese, praising the heavens, and the genus that
>amazingly graces its Realm? Do we? Or do we damn
>those in spite, in hatred more often, forgetting the
>importance until it is too late to realize.
>
>You know the answer.
>
>A sickning reality to be brought to, indeed. But
>Death. Ah, Death. It seems lain, doesnt it? Such a
>native word, and again embedded with meanings. The
>abrupt drawing short of something to be rejoiced. It
>can loom, over the ill, as a prowess, awaiting a
>moment to strike. But any and all can be sudden. The
>lucky few, perhaps as Juniper, can relive what was
>lost to them, giving an immortality few will ever
>concieve. But even the immortal shall dim; the luster
>diminishing from a translucent monument.
>
>And Juniper's time has come.
>
>Immortality has its boundries, no doubt as seen with
>the flawless perfection of the feminine. Senses
>lost....something grieved about its absence. Life
>cannot be; how can one grieve if one has no soul to
>mourn with? This is the difference from the dead and
>the spiritual worlds. Is it better to live without
>love, without touch, without an emotion that truely
>belongs to you, than to live at all?
>
>Decide yourself.
>
>Without the love she so deeply grieved, so deeply
>yearned for, what was a spirit? Indeed, the brazen
>mare could be called so.....had she no love, had she
>no spirit. The pellucid fatale raises a refined jowl,
>cursing the sky, hatred burning in a once pure soul.
>Damning all, damning the ones who came and went,
>leaving her on a lingering whim to unrealistically
>await their return. Damn them all. Its time for her
>to go.
>
>She could not leave with a hatred burning inside the
>depths of the plyable physique. She did not truely
>hate any....she couldnt. Light was too pure in the
>regal genus of the faerie. Forgiven she shall remain;
>in hope. Hope that one day, Andy shall forgive. The
>the blunt brutality of her deepest emotions.....she
>prayed he shall forgive.
>
>A Light, with suck darness, as the darkness which
>passed over the orbs of the ghost fatale. A plyable
>bodice sinks to the frigid plantation, an esse
>surging over a pair of glazed orbs like a sharp slap.
>She was scared, yes. But wouldnt any be? The first
>death was quick; though not painless. But it was an
>unexpectant supressing; there was no time for self
>pity in a time as such. But the second? Nay, she
>knew. It had been looming...slowly, ever so slowly,
>the fluid-like physique became ever more opaque; a
>rapid aging happening upon the once-youthful
>character. A truely disturbing happening, to be aware
>of your own death. It was something deep, with a
>weary body she knew it would come. Without love,
>without support, without friendship, without
>recognitience; it was an ultimate decision
>which she added to the embers which grew. Engulphing
>the remaining vividness of what was.
>
>And as all good things come to an end, her life had
>truely ended long ago. When her loved ones were lost.
> Lost, indeed, if that was only it. Ignored. Ignored
>by the only one whom had a signifigance was the last
>remaining flicker which brought the mares downfall.
>Andy? A murderer? Such a spotlight now put on the
>situaiton. But two sides tell the tales and hardships
>of all. Had he not lead her, came so close and
>tempting to the refined maw of the mare, then raptly
>dissapearing as the wind blows, favoring himself.
>Dear, dear selfish Andy. We shall now see how it is
>to loose a loved one. If she was ever loved by thee.
>
>But, in the echoing of the chizeled mare came a
>message, not telepathic, but a cryptic knowing. As
>the deepest feelings which you know. Ignore them all
>you can, but they will remain. And Andy's were
>uprooted, and told by the voice of Juniper.
>
>*Andy.....do not bring an end to your life yet
>again. I know, as well as you do, that being reborn
>once into the world of the living is a gift; a
>privledge of immortality. But nothing is immortal.
>We all must die. Do me this one last gift,
>Andy....just one thing I have ever asked of you. Do
>not kill yourself again; remain in a bold reverie as
>those with the luster of life do. Grow old with
>Flower. Regain your old roots before I met thee.
>Rebirth once is a miracle in itself. You know, as I,
>that death with intentions again will be the downfall
>of whatever spirit may still be alight inside thee.
>Andy, my Boy, another. Leave my ashes be; the deja vu
>of my being meerely deserves the respect I never
>earned for my own. Farewell, Andy. I loved you. I
>will.*
>
>A death with a Shakespearean attire beings the drought
>of a dramatic and longing death, drawn to the very
>last, hoarse reverie that could possibly emurge from
>prim labyrums. In a fleeting departure, the alumna
>turns to adress her truest, tride kinship. Stone. A
>scraping, deathly whisper barely escapes in a hollow
>whisper; it would be her last speech.
>
>*Stone.....Stone. I was emurged into this lands
>with little more than a bare minimum of expectations.
>Through my life, struggles, deaths, and reborn. You
>have always been. And always will be. I wish you my
>best with Calamity; you deserve each other, and I pray
>it that the passion between you shall never diminish.
>Be my last wish to you my friend: take care of my
>youth; my being. My only wish to you, My dear Stone
>Lightning. Goodbye...*
>
>A dramatic death for a passionate female. The plyable
>bodice that once was cringed, a hoarse choke in a
>last, desperate attempt to intake the air which
>upholds and supports the lives of us all. And see,
>now, do you? Life is not fickle given. It is a
>privelage, and shall be used with the utmost.
>
>The curtain call.
>
>A rigid body lay helplessy upon its still barrel, a
>figure hardly recognizable to even the clostest to the
>feeble being. A whisper shivers its way throug the
>snow covered branches, rustling up the spines of each;
>that would be a given. But suddenly, the form began
>to diminish. Did you expect a spirit? Something with
>no feeling, to meerely return itself to the soil?
>That, my friends, is no more possible than the
>containment of a column of light, or a quick, whisper
>of wind. It will remain; never captured, ever free.
>The physique of the mare diminished, dissaperating
>away as......ashes. As ashes, indeed. The grains
>drifted ino the heavens, dissinigrating against a
>cerulean zenith.
>
>The predecessor.
>
>Beneath the fibers that whipped across the crystalline
>sheet, lay an amazing thing. As the pheonix, we all
>rise from the ashes.......and lay before us all the
>hatching born anew. A nimble, steel coloured foal lay
>at the feet of the ashen plantation, the towering
>elders a thermatic barrier from the harsh conditions
>which loomed amungst the frigid terrain. The rounded
>refine lead to a midst of thoughts, uncanny
>disposition a stealth-like reformative of arabic
>heritage, brazen, azure orbs flicker cunningly, brave
>defiance; a cunning pride that could be her
>matriarchal calling, or her downfall. With a
>distraught coutnanace plastered on the youths fac, the
>pewter nares flutter slightly; the fist breath of a
>predecessing life.
>
>Ashes to ashes, dusk to dusk.
>
>
>And so, the death of Juniper shall come to pass.
>And the youth shall rise from the ashes, ever
>youthful; ever immortal.
>But from her death,comes life.
>Meet Juniper Breeze's predecessor...
>
>
>
>
>
>.M A S Q U E R A D E.
>
>[ the untouched chasm ]
>
>
>
>
>*EEPNESS! I cant BELIEVE I just MURDERED my VERY
>FIRST RP character EVER in my HISTORY! I have been
>playing her for 2 WHOLE YEARS HERE! *cries* Ah, but
>everyone ignored her.....she was past her prime.
>*snickers* Ah.....hope no one hear plays a
>dragon....Er.....look familiar? *Vaspyra cough cough*
>Don play her though....thats Quinney.....she will be
>TOOOO proud of me im sure.....WOW I got carried away
>and a LITTLE redundant.....but oh well. EVERYONE
>WELCOME......*drumroll* MASQUERADE!!!!! YAAAAAY!
>*grins* Ha ha, happy posting!
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 