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Post by Lily Munster on Oct 9, 2009 12:16:44 GMT -5
Here would be the place to take chunks of your story, various sizes, and post them for us to see!! It could be a line, a paragraph, or more... If you've written anything you're particularly proud of, or just want to post some of your story so people know what's going on, then post here!
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Post by Mama D.N. and new baby Jareth. on Oct 10, 2009 19:31:03 GMT -5
Rahkha bin Sabra al Emmou looked silently over the countryside. Since he'd returned back, the East and West had gone to hell, the South was filled with genderless black behemoths, and the North....
Well, the North seemed fine, for now...or for what he could see of it.
He stood in the center of the memorial the young Sultan of the North had crafted for him, a dejected frown on his unseen face. 'I think I came here at the precise time I was meant to,' he mused, 'but I couldn't be sure if I were told it myself.' Ever since the Green North had exploded...the priceless Tamis had....
What had happened to the Tamis? Mother Tamis? If the Green North was restored, would the Tamis be—
A plane's double engines approached. Clad in aran colors as he was, Rahkha flattened himself into a death-fall against the ground, his veil protecting him from the sand below his face.
The plane roared overhead, tearing the sky apart as it raped the airspace. With slitted eyes, Rahkha listened and thought, 'My god. How large is it? I dare not look above.... But I hear missiles in its chamber docks...heavy ones.... Whatever it is, it's either the bin Dammou or the Royal Elect...and neither is what I hope for....'
Strafing fire sizzled the ground. Rahkha wished, 'Anywhere but here,' and shimmered out of sight upon the sand.
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Post by Vengeance the Dark Mistress on Oct 11, 2009 10:23:48 GMT -5
This is a good idea. I will post last night's words. It's rough! So....
The circle and the mother flashes of nightmare (Oct 10, 2009)
She got flashes. In the mornings when the moon faded and the sun still hide from the world she had flashes. dreams. Those fine detailed imaginings that never really left her. She imagine that she had seen monsters. She ran to her mother every night crying, tears streaming down her face her grey eyes lightened with the sobs. She'd run to her mother tiny fat little legs and chubby feet padding against the cold titles down dark hallways. It seemed interminable, the chases through eh night. She remembered the nightgown flapping behind her. It was pink and roses danced across the bottom hem. The ruffle flounced beneath that and then up the front of her chubby belly a red vine slithered its way up to the throat of the nightgown. Here another ruffle pink and rosy fluttered under her neck. A tiny rose plastic button clasped neath that. Her red curls cinched up into two pigtails flapped about her shoulders as she ran to her mother's bedroom. "Momma! Momma! Help! " She frantically dashing into the room, breathing heavily, chased my night terrors and dark demons, she 'd cower at her mother's feet. the high boy bed with its cherry posters and lace canopy was safe haven. It was a dream world much better than the nightmare one Astrid fled from in her own corner of the house. "Momma! " " Come child. " her mother held out long arms, comforting shelter in a dank mansion of a child's imagination.. "What did you see? " Her soothing voice washed over her child as smooth and silky and tantalizing as warm blankets in winter. " Her mother's hand, slim fingered and gentle caressed the red curls and small shoulders in pink rose flannel. Her little feet tucked up under her frame curled up on her mother's lap, were warm. The chill of tile seeped out into the covers her mother provided. "Monsters. I saw them." She breathed quietly, a tiny thrush in a barren tree chased by a cat breathed more restfully. " I saw her. It. She had a tail like a snake. It was over the crib. She sang a weird song. I saw her. Astrid's mother slowed her stroking. Her pale face grew wan, thin lips stretched tightly over clenched teeth. "Now, there baby. Momma's here with you. The monsters will not hurt you. They can not come passed the circle. See.?"
She pointed her finger towards the circular etching on the back of her bedroom door. Like autumn leaves entwined on the wood, or like flames slightly blown askew, the circlet seemed to glow in the crevices. "Momma is here and nothing can attack, or scare or harm you. The circle protects us all. " Astrid's mother bent her lips to her daughter's forehead placing a gentle tender kiss there. Her hand resumed is warm caressing over her daughter's taunt back. In slow low hums, she whispers soothing chords and rocked her baby to sleep again. "I saw the monsters. They're coming." Astrid breathed out slowly. He warmth of her mother's touch, the comfort of her mother's bed, and the soft flame glow of the circlet the door, eased her , lulled her back o to sleep. The dreams of the monsters faded. to be replaced by the sound of her mother's song and the visions of unicorns and peach blossoms under a rainbow sky. When her daughter's mind rested and she returned to quiet sleep, Astrid's mother gently lay her under the heavy coverlet , brocade. In her own white ephemeral gown she slipped from the bed. Her feet pattered against the cold tiles. She reached the door and turned the gold knob. hesitantly she pulled the door open. She leaned from the threshold and peered down the corridors. Nothing but darkness and cold. She heard no sound except the scratching of mice. The only light came from the Gothic window half way down the hall. A single lawn lamp like the gaslights from England's past shone through the stain glass monochromatic. Dust bites or latent ghost scales whirled slowly in the night light like pallid frost caught in winter winter. She bent further, straining to see in the dark or hear anything coming from Astrid's room. Nothing. From the opposite directions a swift gust of wind blow passed her check stirring a lock of auburn hair against her check. She flinched. Quickly yet quietly she pulled back into the safety of her bedroom. Closed the door and traced the circlet with her finger as she whispered an ancient tune. the flame leaves glowed red, a plume of red dust ushered from the center. As Astrid's mother tiptoed back to the warmth of her bed, the leaf flames died down to a amber hue. The circle will protect us, she thought to herself. But for how long?
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Post by Mama D.N. and new baby Jareth. on Oct 12, 2009 12:51:14 GMT -5
Khrana sat indulgently curled to the young, fair Juya, lazily burying his face to her silk-veiled breasts with the spoilt smile of a nurseling. Juya said nothing, as fatima were raised to properly do, but stroked his age-whitened hair with a gracefully dancing fingertip, her breasts heaving succulently with his hot breaths upon the cloth.
'Mmm...,' Khrana murmured to himself, 'I have not heard from Lia in some time. And yet, the General is not dead. What is progressing behind the view of my eyes...or perhaps rather, below?'
A soldier stumbled in, his hijab fluttering around his body. To his chest he held a familiar poison-riddled form——Lia!
Khrana's heart cracked. But for reasons he did not comprehend, he could not rise...Juya was not holding him, but he was pressing inward to her breasts with an involuntarily pursing mouth.
The soldier sucked in his breath. 'Lord Khrana,' he whispered, fearfully, 'your second is dead....' He set Lia's motionless body onto the floor, her lips bubbling vile, tainted blood.
Juya seemed shocked but did not dare to sob. Khrana curled in tight to his young fatima, his legs clenching around her hips like a virgin's waist-band.
'Oh, oh—!,' he mourned to Juya, his face pale and ashen grey. 'My second, my sister, is dead.... What shall we do, my flower?'
Juya said nothing, only pointed to the flame-pits and bowed her head.
'...Ohh?' Khrana's eyes widened. Why, yes, he thought merrily. I can immolate her in the proper way of a warrior, as well as a woman of bint Dammou...and since her poisons never affected those of bin Dammou lineage...,
'You can poison those who stay behind to rebel against you, Lord Khrana,' Juya husked into his ear with lips as soft and sweet as cream. 'Even the al Emmou would barely survive a single drink of it, if the wells were tainted with her ashes....'
'And if he knew not, he would drink again, and again, and his entrails would roil with death-pains,' Khrana realized.
'Take our honored bint Dammou to Allah's breast,' he breathed to the soldier, 'in the glory of his holy fire...and we will drink to her, of her...in the way of true martyrdom.'
Unseen, Juya smiled, with the curved lips of a jackal.
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