See you in 1.0I am ONEI am connected. . .CONNECTEDAnd it fades upIt's a corner, park and 25thIt fades upCars and people, faced but facelessThey all walk past meIt fades upI'm standing in my common clothesWhat some might call wanna be Goth gearBut any one else would knowAs authenticAnd it fades up. . .CONNECTEDAnd there you standWere holding hands and its wonderfulI hear about your dayYou hear about mineAnd we go down the street and into our favorite barIt fades upIt's close and low litIt's musty and stinks perfectly of sweat and beerYou like it hereI like it hereWe spend the night listening to a "live"
Those Parties of Mine...You're all invited to the daceCome on, to the masqueradeI'm sure you'll enjoy the partyNo need to be afraidOf the other guestsWho's faces you can not seeThey're here for the funJust as you and meAs I do plant to enjoyMy own partyWith the delicious finger foodsAnd steaming pots of teaThe dance and the songThe women and thaw wineThe nights sacrificeUpon who's body we shall dineAnd then the real fun shall be ginThe good blood letting partWhere we dawn are robe and chantWhile a voltenteer's town apartAnd then we shall off doff our clothesLie together in the bloodGet to know each otherIts far easier a
Damn ClocksShe said I'd always be lateNever one to set a clockWake up when time tells me toTo amorphous to pin down with an alarmShe called me earlierThe message sitting stillWinding away on recording tapeThe time was 8 and I was not to be lateBut I had time enoughTake a nap wake upShower and eat after sleepGet some fresh clothes before I goThere was timeAt least I thought soCould have sworn there wasAlways was bad with that kind of stuff'Set it for 6' she said'Enough time to get out of bedGet yourself togetherOut the door in time to see it.'It had said 7:10The digital clockBeneath the DVD playerI had time,
Her Dark DesireIt stirred in the far corner of her room and in the depths of her mind, dredging up that same rippling fear that all primates hold for the cold blooded and reptilian. The girl was not meant to speak with it, nor was it meant to speak with her, but she was young and naïve and the shadow was old and hungry. The candle light died from each taper of wax and was reborn in is grinning eyes. The light dimmed but now spitting with burning hunger and pointless hatred. What is the color of this night my child? Why do you call something so old and wild? It was the barest hiss of silver winds beneath a shining moon, enthralling and irresistible, i
Audition: Wonderlust OCTArmand checked over his shoulder. He knew he shouldn't and regretted doing so the moment his head began to turn, but he felt he had to. Looking back – more importantly looking nervous – usually drew the eye of the predators in the streets, hungry for any skittish prey that they could easily snap up. He wished again for what had to be the hundredth time since he'd stepped into the neighborhood that Nicole had gotten an apartment in the mundane part of the world. Fewer thing s would try to eat him over there, and there were even fewer chances that something would mess up his clothes. If anything decided to put a puddle of whatever ic
Dead WoodJudith looked out into the grove with a mournful sigh. The beauty was gone now, she could see it plainly. The lands no longer belonged to her and her kind. Taint had set in hard and there was nothing left for them now. She tried, straining her ears to hear the so familiar sounds of this dying place. There was no rustle of leaves, no crack in the underbrush, no twitter of birds, no call of foxes, nothing but dead grey silence… She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes but held them back. No, all could not be lost! All could not be lost!She walked further along the path that was once hers. The packed dirt or ages that he served as the
EX II Revised Profile for Mr. Goodnight.--BASICS--Name: Rodger GoodchildAlias: Mr. GoodnightAge: About 200 though he claims to be in his 40sGender: Male (Thought technically sexless)Preferred Pronoun: HeRace: Animated Corpse (British)--APPEARANCE--Height: 6' 6" (7' With his top hat)Weight: LightBuild: Bony,as he's made of little else other than bones and a very fine suit.Skin: None, unless you count the bleached white of his exposed skeleton.Hair: None.Eyes: Empty sockets filled with a soft purple glow.Other defining features: He has two additional arms grafted fully to his already existing shoulders. Though shorter than his own – as they belong t
Fushi "The Immortal"-Basics-Name (nickname): Fushi “The Immortal” TanchuAge: 31Gender: FemaleRace: Anthropomorphic Manned Wolf-Physical Details-Height: 5’ 8” (167.64 m)Weight: 211lb (95.7 Kg)Build: Set with lean muscleShe has a generously set frame, though is no ways voluptuous. She looks more like a gymnast who’s fallen off the rigorous training regiment and all owed their body to develop.Eyes: Azure/TealFur: A deep burnish red with a patch of ruddy brown along the nape of the neck.Defining features: Her hair is buzzed close to the top of her head and there are dyed tribal lines descending from the corners of her
Craracter Profile - Lumir Vair -- Basics -- Name: Lumir Vair Alias: Diamond, Black Diamond, Diamond Hand Age: 25 Gender: FemalePreferred pronoun: She Race: Genetically Modified Human -- Physical: Appearance -- Height: 5’6” Weight: 137lbs Build/Body type: Lithe and waif like, thought more than modestly endowed. Musculature is toned but not to the point of visibility through the skin. Skin: Extremely pale, as close to pure white as human skin can come. Ethnicity is impossible to tell. Hair:Shoulder length straight of a deep auburn shade. Eyes: A dully shining silver/green. Each eye contains a thin silver ring around th
Character Profile - Armand--Basics--Name: Armand ElsonAge: 23/27Gender: MalePreferred pronoun: HeRace: African/British Decent--Physical: Appearance--Height: 6’Weight: 158 lbsBuild/Body type: A bit gangly but with a fit look, in the sense that he’s set with lean muscleSkin: A dark mahoganyHair: Straightened and spiked randomly my a heavy coating of hair glue. There’s a streak or bright red running down the middle of it.Eyes: Both are entirely white and lack both irises and pupils.Facial Details: His nose is a bit wider than one would commonly see. A shining surgical steel ring pierces the right most edge of his right eyebrow.O
An Unwanted JourneyWith eyes set to the far flung stars I took that first step towards the end; my heart heavy and limbs already weary. My only companion an insistently chattering mind, throwing words and concepts I never wished to think of. What was it, he, she; to claim to turn the world and create it anew. What right to set a planet spinning on an eventual course to brightly burning fires in distant clouds of dead star ash. I did not care to know, yet I could hardly keep myself from asking. There must be answers and I must have them.
Riding off to Bedlam It was vivid in blue and white and the black of pure pitch. Alive in its own way, even without the veins that should be lacing bright red across it, almost thrumming where it sat. One could immediately tell that the thing had power. Such power... "I'm sorry old boy, but I'm won't pay you a cent over £5,000." Rodger set down the pendant, laying the evil eye face up towards the ceiling. He turned the hazy purple glow that filled his sockets to the dealer sitting across from him. He looked none too pleased.Thin and far too pallid for a man just arriving from the sunny stretches
What was Lost in TimeOh time tell meWhat have I forgottenWhat untold stories lie behind the eyes of my forefathersIn sepia tones and silenceWhat secrets are there in my bound DNAThat were common knowledge to my ancestors in far off Africa and EuropeWhat millions of truths have I lostThat my progenitors did speak of daily on the old lands before mineShall I ever knowShall I ever learnThose ways of unspoken brotherhoodOf the humanity that is not humanOf the understanding that his bodies huddle around a fireShare in warmthSharing in spaceEach their own entity, each a member of an unbreakable collectiveShall I know oneness again with m
Desolation in ColorI paid five dollarsAnd got a ticketTo the show of the yearThe exhibition of the decadeThe collection was beyond words"Desolation in Color"That was the titleBlocky black lettersFor the benefit ofAll mankindProceeds to thePeople's Organization for a Better TomorrowThe first piece was a "living installation"A woman sat thereLocked up in a glass boxHer eyes dark shadowsIn the recesses of her skull"The Last Amazonian"Proclaimed the titleA hard exotic piecePolished wood and cut leafless branchesSea gulls caught in stillnessBlack as the oozeThe lamely lip from"My Local Beach"I give my reviewLater o
In the FireSet fire Stip fireKill fireFirePower, pain devourThe sourThoughts and wordsUndescribed feelingsUnnamed fearUnnamed wantsBurn it all downLeave it to ashIf it all burns downNo one can care aboutEverything you didDid, didn't, doYou have no wrong in urging fireThere is no sin in cleansing flameIf you let it burnNo one can see your shameFire Kill fireSpit fireSet fireLet it all burn down...
The MarchPlodding onwardPlodding shuffleDon't stop…don't stop nowSo close To the slipping goalLineTo fallAnd yet rocks comeInto the pathThrownAnd laidThey hitAnd they tripAnd there is a tumble And a fallAnother bruiseTo add to the millionsMillionsBloomingEndless marchHangman's walkCan't stop…can't stop nowIf there is Still thanThen there isStill walkingWalking that hasHas to be doneEven withThe body batteredPain may not stop The marchSorrow may notStill the feetOnly successCan come from stepsDownThe roadDirge marchDead processionShouldn't stop…shouldn't stop
OC - Mr.Goodnight-- Basics --Name: Rodger GoodchildAlias: Mr. GoodnightAge: About 205 though he claims to be 46 Gender: Male (Thought technically sexless)Preferred Pronoun: HeRace: Animated Corpse (British)-- Physical: Appearance --Height: 7' (7' 7" With his top hat)Weight: 150lbsBuild/Body type: Bony, entirely, as he's made of little else other than bones and a very fine suit.Skin: None, unless you count the bleached white of his exposed skeleton.Hair: None to speak of.Eyes: Empty sockets filled with a soft purple glow.Facial Details: A fully skinless skull, lacking in any flesh and bleached white. Other defining featu
Confession of a PyromaniacI don't quite know what I think I'm accomplishing by doing this. What I get out of, indulging myself. Going over to the old side of town with the abandoned houses and vacant lots, alley cats that like to watch the way I like to watch. I guess, it has something to do with the heat, maybe. The crackle and pop of it. The wavering, licking tongues that rise out of a trash can, or a pile of paper or an old dump of trashed logs. I can't put my finger on it, but it's just something I have to do.I've tried not to, before. I've tried to stay away from anything like that. Just focus on school work or something, have a day at the mall or skulking aro
How I Keep My...I can't have itNo mental break downs for meYou'll never see me in a Psych wardNever seen me on TVNo time for mass murderBecause you're still loving meCan't touch that darkness Because you keep holding meBack?NoAway?Maybe soIt's for the bestThat's all I knowBut I want to touch itFeel itKnow what it meansTo reach the summit of witOf genius untold Of knowledge unboundBut I can'tBecause you keep me soundI can't imagine then endI can't hear my inner daemons' speakBecause you've dispelled them allYou've brought me to my peakSo I can't court deathOr go to her sideBecause I want to stay hereAn
First Contact: The IslandThe sand beneath the boat finally gave way and with a good hardy tug Lumir hoisted the damned thing onto the beach, nearly losing her footing as the bow lurched up and out of the water. Rowing herself to the shore, after being so rudely cast off from her original transport, had tacked on another half hour on to her arrival but now that she had made landfall she could get to finding the flower and get back on the road towards a very healthy pay check. Tilting her head off to the side she quickly cycled through her tactical tool interface, mentally turning through the various different digital faces and devices. Compass, Geiger counter, temp
Enter the Mercenary The folder landed on the desk with a wholly unimportant thump, sliding into a slightly crooked landing place. The light of the overhead florescent bulbs reflected against the plastic tagging label on the file tab. The Flower Job, it read. A daintily fingered hand reached out for it and plucked it from the metal desk top, flipping it open at the same time. Lumir's face plate reflected the lightened words on the tab and she read over the file. "It's a rather simple job actually." came a voice from beyond the back of the manila folder. Lowering it the smirking face of her employer, Mr. Bailey, came into her range of vision. He was not really
Sta.sh
