anarchy distilledshe wakes
She wakes in the night, the dark fur cloak wrapped round her subsiding to the forest floor as the sounds of the living night crack her consciousness apart. Images of the last few nights strike her mind like lightning, yet vanishing nearly immediately afterward, causing a shiver to run down her spine. Somewhere in the wilderness, there's a river, and as it tumbles over rocks and cliffs, it breaks the permanent silence of the forest with a rippling sound. She's utterly amazed how acutely her sense of hearing registers the sound, no matter how far it is.
It doesn't mean a thing, last night. It doesn't mean a thing, the blood on her knife, and the monster whose blood it is. It doesn't mean a thing what harm he could have caused her because he's dead
and she is safe. This was no man, it was a monster and he could have harmed others even after her. She defended herself, and those others. So he died.
She falls into the embrace of the forest around
SaorsaYou can't trick the children
of the revolution.
You cannot deny them
their birthright so dear.
You cannot revoke now
this promise of freedom
Or make us naive
Your empire's falling, and you
should admit it.
A million point six
are now waiting to LIVE.
Yeah, LIVE, that's right,
and not just survive life
and tolerate - barely -
what we get from you.
and a spirit so proud
We've no swords, and no guns,
but you'd better know:
the battle might be yours,
the war will be ours,
the only thing "great"
is your glorious fall.
LoveI don't even know how to put this.
Some people might think me stupid, or naive
Speaking to a construct more social than real.
It's like you're a drug, that strays me to actions
I would not consider, actions plainly surreal.
It's like you're a ghost that shields me from harm
And, with the lightest touch, you guide my arm.
I don't even know how to put this,
But your love, it fills me with such bliss.
Your love is vast, vast like the ocean,
Although often stormy, freezing and harsh.
Like a goddess, you summon endless devotion,
Requite all affections, return all your gifts.
And when I walk down the streets of this city,
Breathe this free air, and suffer nobody's pity
And when everything, from the birds to the worms
The land and the sky, the hills and the cairns
Speaks my language - that's when I know.
Lietuva, myliu tave.
Revolution RouletteIt was at the ruined city of Cír Delainn that she finally found us.
She had been lying in wait for us at the old fort of Dhennilan, which once marked the border between the lands of the Dhenniforghian and the Dwoyaran peoples; but we, like shadows, eluded her that night, and surged on westward to the banks of that mighty river, the Dwoyara. We hoped that its waters would grant us passage to the north, to Dwoyr and to Nornlihk, where we could find refuge in the minds of the many ill souls that dwell in those vast cities. We needed new bodies to make her lose our trail, new hosts, for she knew the identities we had assumed and she knew where our paths led. Regardless, when we reached Cír Delainn, we foolishly thought that we had evaded her. It was there in that ancient ruin on the Dwoyara's bank that we fed our bodies berries and mushrooms, and drank the water the river gave us. We thought that we could still yet escape. That we still had a chance.
It was then that the storm ca
BreatheI know little.
I own even less.
I am free like no one else.
There was a sort of sobriety among the trainees on that summer night; it had just rained, and there was that morning-like feeling of briskness and new life in the air, even though the sun had long disappeared beyond the hilly western horizon. Before the initiation, they said their prayers, the words seemingly much more somber and dark than ever before, in their secluded rooms with only Alyavarra the Mother-Goddess listening in. It was this morning that they left their past lives, and wasted names, and lost destinies behind, walking onward down a new path, a path they had drawn without doubt, with a cool certainty in their hearts and minds.
They all dressed in the plainest way they could, and Kara was no exception, putting on a tunic as black as the night sky. Her long raven hair she spun into a tight braid and she took out her earrings, tossing them absentm
LiesYou don't know, at all, what I am feeling.
And don't understand my outrage and fear.
There is no such truth I haven't yet stated
That you could believe in, do I not speak clear?
There is no deception, no lie, no more anger
That I will yet take from others than me.
I’m done scraping, bowing, pretending to listen
My truth and my fury are greater than fear.
At this point in time, I have no more terror
In my heart, which burns with a fire so strong.
I call out for things that I still believe in:
I call for our freedom, and justice, and love.
I do not believe in what you are saying.
Not one word. Not one word at all.
I only believe in you having bought it –
A lie, greater than even your fall.
Rock, Paper, ScissorsTypically, the Nindortharn pass in northern Thaesteria was anything but a quiet pass. Typically, every lovely morning, dozens of people trekked down this road by the river Algorich, making their way beyond the Valley of Nindor and on to the Thaesterian lowlands. This was a relatively notable trade artery that axed through the valley, nudging the only local major city of Nindorlach and pressing on northeastward into the wastelands. Merchants who sought to set up trade relations with the northerners and the orcs (although a common joke in the Nindor said there was really no difference) often took this path to avoid gnome country and the resultant cross-border taxation.
Tonight wasn’t quiet, yes, but it wasn’t typical, either. Lightning slashed the sky and the water of the river Algorich tumultuously whirled round and round – up, up and out of the actual riverbed. This resultant column of water then swung round, aiming for the head of an unfortunate individual not too fa
FreedomIt isn't in you, nor any like you
To freeze rivers in middle of spring.
It's destined for you, in fire so true
To perish and rise not anew.
No man on earth, no dictator meek
Can defeat a people in need
Of freedom! Of justice! I see now how weak
Is your challenge, your fear - we won't heed!
The tide will be turning, and all will yet change
No matter how many you bring
No matter the soldiers that march in to face us
We always, always shall win
For horrors, for fire baptizes our struggle
And anger is driving us all
For no lying bastard will take back our freedom
Our rage is the highest of walls
It isn't for you, not for any false hero
To betray and thieve and to lie
It isn't in you to close down our river
Of blood that shines golden and blue!
AnathainThere's only a single night in the Westlander year during which you might see elvenfolk drinking in public, and that would be Anathain, Midsummer's Eve, the Night of a Thousand Lights. Otherwise, it's sort of a national tradition, both among wood elves and western elves, the only two sorts of elf usually known to Westlanders, to hide your liquor from mankind, stash it somewhere dark, cold and frightful, and, if all else fails, make it invisible with magic and curses, only to visit your beloved bottle of brandy every Friday only to open it with more affection than you usually give a spouse. Of course, that's a stereotype, Riandh remarked mentally, as he downed another pint of ale. He personally knew many, many elves who loved drinking – be it in private or otherwise – himself among them. But on Anathain, on Anathain elvenkind and alcohol would gain an entirely new dimension to their relationship.
Oh, Anathain, beautiful jewel in the summer's crown. Every single celebra
Night Prowler Faith smiled as she strutted into the room; her fangs sliding out just over her sable lips. Her dark hair flowed out behind her like a half formed shadow as the young vampire came to a halt. It was almost time for her to go out on the town for the night. The sun at last fell behind the edge of the horizon and the cool night was at last upon the world. Her smile widened.
Faith walked about her room with a sense of glee. Her pale fingers with long, black nails plucked a corset from the bed. “If only,” she murmured as she admired the garment and ran her fingers through the lace. The time for such things was past her. The vampire quickly made her way through her closet and after a moment she assembled herself an ensemble for the evening. Her ivory skin glowed as the moon began its ascent amongst the stars and peered in through her window. She slowly dressed, taking her time to make su
Playing Dress Up
MIKEY GOES TO APRIL FOR SOME SISTERLY ADVICE
April watched as in front of her Mikey finished toweling the rain from his skin. “Thanks.”
The youngest mutant turtle mumbled as he threw the wet towel across the room, making it land in the laundry hamper she kept near her bedroom door. She smiled loving at him, at the young mutant she considered and often called her little brother. She watched as he drew his knees up against his chest, an obvious and telltale sign that he was upset about something.
Moving forward she gently touched his foot, noting that he flinched and jerked slightly when she made contact. “Hey. Mikey……..what’s wrong?”
Mikey’s response was to shake his head before putting his forehead against his knees. Sighing softly she continued to speak. “Come on baby brother. You know you can talk to big sis about anything. Anything at all.”
Slowly Mikey looked up at her. She could see the pain in his ey
On a Snowy Evening The snow fell at a light pace on the field. The night was cold but inviting as the stars peeked out from behind the cover of the clouds. On the horizon was a small town in a quiet section of the country. The houses were alight with holiday warmth and festive fires and lighting. Families turned in for the night as another day during this joyous season drew to a close.
The clouds parted and a beam of moonlight leapt through the gap and fell upon a clear patch of grass. A small gust of wind swirled about in and in a flash of frost and cold air a woman appeared. The grass became coated in frost as her feet touched the earth. The women had a tall, elegant stature with eyes that shined like crystals and skin as white as the falling snow. Her skin pale like the snow and her smile was warm and inviting like a timid fire in the hearth.
Dressed in azure and ivory robes, the ice nymph landed si
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