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gin a body catch a body
comin thro' the rye,
gin a body catch a body,
need a body cry?
さようなら
comin thro' the rye,
gin a body catch a body,
need a body cry?
さようなら
Most Recent Posts
Isihlahla the Baobab takes tribute to the second (2nd) part of the post.
____________________________________________________________________________
E f r a y i m W a r a q a t e a d a '
____________________________________________________________________________Charu was dangerous, right now and intimidating. The horses were not acting well to her behavior, but Farrin appeared to be managing just fine. Efrayim was not too worried about the situation. The Hoplites, thus far, were a fairly easy match, and if Charu's representation did not exemplify Baccum then he was a failure in his own rearing of her. Her body was marching and trampling. Her steps were causing incoherent vibrations on the earthen ground, stirring smokey dust into the air around her. The Baccumese man thought nothing of her commotion bothering the others, and if anything, he delighted in the noise she was making as he gathered his mind to scan the hazy battlefield.
His arm fell to his side, still gripping his the handle of his blade. The pommel rested on his joint, ready to be pushed into battle at any given moment, unaware of the naive youth of the Hoplites. The horses were starting again as Charu came to a calmer state, revealing the small battle was nearing its end, after Efrayim twisted his tongue against his two front teeth, slightly crooked by his mother's side and let out a thick, short whistle. His own largeness turned, offering a whiff of arrogance in his demeanor, concerned for the whereabouts of Farrin. His comrades seemed to have upheld his belief, although he had no real mind for all of their whereabouts suddenly, with the hordes of bronze helmets plummeting in the horizon. Their march was shaking the earth at a rapid pace, with the shout of Farrin warning about the Hoplites.
Hold fast, most of these were green, tempted by loot... Efrayim quickly glanced at a fallen Hoplite. Weak. To be tempted so easily, his eyes narrowed at the poor soldier and scanned quickly, eyeing others from the group. The first to catch his attention was the shorter, petite woman, who had managed herself through Charu's stampeding. She was nimble and quick it seemed, much like the lithe fellowman in the ragged clothing and the swift sword. He hoped none that the Elder had recruited were weak minded. He already had his doubts about that heretic witch.
They looked like a bugs, swarming into the town. he sun was reflecting from their metals and casting shadows of the soldier's bodies with a depressing gray of exaggeration as blades and spears were striking through the air and cutting their way. Loud shouts could be heard as their bodies galloped closer, storming into the area:
"Torros! Torros! Torros!"
Efrayim hissed at the sight, flexing and veering towards Charu at the Elder's command, "Jhaant ke pissu!" His teeth clenched against his bottom lip, chapped from the journey and smoke, breathing quickly in a sharp whistle to pierce through an inhale. His body motioned forwards several steps, boots gripping the ground as he put away his sword, in order to better climb upon the large trunked beast. His patience was thin with this. He devised already that he had mismanaged his strength through the journey, and Kothar was much stronger than he had imagined. His hand gripped the thick fabric, and pulled his body upwards. His feet gently slid along the rich tapestry, he seating himself as Charu let out one last loud noise for disturbance.
She began to gait after the horses, bouncing for a good pace, still slower than the galloping. The Baccumese held tightly to the leather handle and turned his attention towards the onslaught. His breaths were heavy with frustration and excitement as he moved along with Charu, swaying with every step. He was concerned about his safety and that of Charu, but the Elder was someone to ponder, nonetheless, "Be wary."
A tired brume of incense took over Efrayim’s dreams. It’s fluffy arms curled and cooed around his mind and pulled his body downwards into the gut of his imagination where silent whispers were murmuring a short, soft story. Their voices were light and airy, and their chimes enchanted small clouds from their hiding places. Blackness began to retrace itself, pulling the shadows into a simple retreat, like claws retracting into a relaxed state. The white clouds foamed forwards, slowly tiptoeing through the shadows. Like white swirls, they began to dance with the darkness. Swaying together, both the light and dark twirled and and began form beings beings of som ancestral forms. Their appearances spun as clothes began to veil their celestial figures, and their bodies grew to tremendous heights. Golden instrument like weapons drew themselves as pillars from the paws of the beings and were lifted into battling positions. The forms metonichally moved their thick and heavy limbs and stood like statues, motioning all in the same position: towards the staircase.
Gentle hands lifted Efrayim’s body, molding itself around his skin, like soft feathers. The small whispers coaxed him forward, and his vision was lifted to the top of the stairs. Large marble columns had grown like trees in a forest and were hiding what lay beyond the staircase, where the shadows still resided, “𝐵𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓎...” The sound of a woman’s voice spoke lightly but demanding, and the Baccumese man’s attention was drawn to her. A black fuzzy orb glowed around her head, like a storm cloud, and fog was draped over her body as a rich, purple cloak, covering her whole body. Even the umbra of her garments made her eyes too dark to be visible, and only the paleness of her lips, drifting into a smile could be seen, “𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒾𝒾, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉.”
Slowly, she faded into the darkness of the marble woods, and the shadows redrew themselves. Some of the figures collapsed into sand and spread their bodies through the wind; and others flew straight into the sky, dispersing along the horizon. The whispers grew from murmurs to audible voices, retelling the scenery of an old abandoned town in Mennon, and the soft arms cuddling around Efrayim’s body wrinkled and grayed into the tough skin of an elephant. Quietly, the whispers faded into the evening noises of bugs and the clear night night.
His arm fell to his side, still gripping his the handle of his blade. The pommel rested on his joint, ready to be pushed into battle at any given moment, unaware of the naive youth of the Hoplites. The horses were starting again as Charu came to a calmer state, revealing the small battle was nearing its end, after Efrayim twisted his tongue against his two front teeth, slightly crooked by his mother's side and let out a thick, short whistle. His own largeness turned, offering a whiff of arrogance in his demeanor, concerned for the whereabouts of Farrin. His comrades seemed to have upheld his belief, although he had no real mind for all of their whereabouts suddenly, with the hordes of bronze helmets plummeting in the horizon. Their march was shaking the earth at a rapid pace, with the shout of Farrin warning about the Hoplites.
Hold fast, most of these were green, tempted by loot... Efrayim quickly glanced at a fallen Hoplite. Weak. To be tempted so easily, his eyes narrowed at the poor soldier and scanned quickly, eyeing others from the group. The first to catch his attention was the shorter, petite woman, who had managed herself through Charu's stampeding. She was nimble and quick it seemed, much like the lithe fellowman in the ragged clothing and the swift sword. He hoped none that the Elder had recruited were weak minded. He already had his doubts about that heretic witch.
They looked like a bugs, swarming into the town. he sun was reflecting from their metals and casting shadows of the soldier's bodies with a depressing gray of exaggeration as blades and spears were striking through the air and cutting their way. Loud shouts could be heard as their bodies galloped closer, storming into the area:
"Torros! Torros! Torros!"
Efrayim hissed at the sight, flexing and veering towards Charu at the Elder's command, "Jhaant ke pissu!" His teeth clenched against his bottom lip, chapped from the journey and smoke, breathing quickly in a sharp whistle to pierce through an inhale. His body motioned forwards several steps, boots gripping the ground as he put away his sword, in order to better climb upon the large trunked beast. His patience was thin with this. He devised already that he had mismanaged his strength through the journey, and Kothar was much stronger than he had imagined. His hand gripped the thick fabric, and pulled his body upwards. His feet gently slid along the rich tapestry, he seating himself as Charu let out one last loud noise for disturbance.
She began to gait after the horses, bouncing for a good pace, still slower than the galloping. The Baccumese held tightly to the leather handle and turned his attention towards the onslaught. His breaths were heavy with frustration and excitement as he moved along with Charu, swaying with every step. He was concerned about his safety and that of Charu, but the Elder was someone to ponder, nonetheless, "Be wary."
____________________________________________________________________________
T H R E E N I G H T S A G O || M E N N O N || D E S E R T E D T O W N
T H R E E N I G H T S A G O || M E N N O N || D E S E R T E D T O W N
A tired brume of incense took over Efrayim’s dreams. It’s fluffy arms curled and cooed around his mind and pulled his body downwards into the gut of his imagination where silent whispers were murmuring a short, soft story. Their voices were light and airy, and their chimes enchanted small clouds from their hiding places. Blackness began to retrace itself, pulling the shadows into a simple retreat, like claws retracting into a relaxed state. The white clouds foamed forwards, slowly tiptoeing through the shadows. Like white swirls, they began to dance with the darkness. Swaying together, both the light and dark twirled and and began form beings beings of som ancestral forms. Their appearances spun as clothes began to veil their celestial figures, and their bodies grew to tremendous heights. Golden instrument like weapons drew themselves as pillars from the paws of the beings and were lifted into battling positions. The forms metonichally moved their thick and heavy limbs and stood like statues, motioning all in the same position: towards the staircase.
Gentle hands lifted Efrayim’s body, molding itself around his skin, like soft feathers. The small whispers coaxed him forward, and his vision was lifted to the top of the stairs. Large marble columns had grown like trees in a forest and were hiding what lay beyond the staircase, where the shadows still resided, “𝐵𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓎...” The sound of a woman’s voice spoke lightly but demanding, and the Baccumese man’s attention was drawn to her. A black fuzzy orb glowed around her head, like a storm cloud, and fog was draped over her body as a rich, purple cloak, covering her whole body. Even the umbra of her garments made her eyes too dark to be visible, and only the paleness of her lips, drifting into a smile could be seen, “𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒾𝒾, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉.”
Slowly, she faded into the darkness of the marble woods, and the shadows redrew themselves. Some of the figures collapsed into sand and spread their bodies through the wind; and others flew straight into the sky, dispersing along the horizon. The whispers grew from murmurs to audible voices, retelling the scenery of an old abandoned town in Mennon, and the soft arms cuddling around Efrayim’s body wrinkled and grayed into the tough skin of an elephant. Quietly, the whispers faded into the evening noises of bugs and the clear night night.
Banned for clear!
Strategically.
Banned for name!
Banned for Tundra!
Fox
GM freed space for RECOVERY (D:) & now D is running out.
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