FrozenEcstasy said
Advanced yesAnd dammit I'm gonna post in an hour or two
Uh-huh. .-.
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Sugar Rocker
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Uh-huh. .-.
Oh, thanks! And I agree! Your way with words is rather impressive, as well.
Skylark's gaze wandered away from his Father's ending whatever hypnotic effect it would have had. Hydras? Elders? They rang a bell, but he didn't really know what they meant. It was like trying to remember the name of an old childhood friend when you could only remember their smile and the look in their eyes. Suddenly, Skylark's light violet eyes dulled as he thought. He seemed to have lost himself in thought. A world all his own, a world he had inside of him. That was a quality he had inherited from Edge- the ability to sink in the depth of his thoughts. Edge didn't show it around Path, but he was one to zone out and reach solutions by himself. When he was his laboratory for tens of hours at a time, he would silently work, though in his head voices raged on.
"I don't want a war." Skylark whispered slowly. He clutched his Father's hand tighter. The world around them stunk of death. It bothered him. Skylark could feel it... In his bare feet. Pressing his soles against the squishy, damp, toxic ground, he could feel the slight resounding thumps. He had believed they were nothing but his foot tingling, not used to the dead Earth and trying to adjust but... It was.. "Father, I'm scared!" Skylark blurted. He could feel it, so prominent. The tops of ancient, ruined buildings all around him, casting him into further darkness. His mind wandered to something Edge had told them while they were still eggs. 'Hear the voice... of the sky itself. Can you hear it? It sounds...' The heartbeat of the Elder dragons resounded against his sensitive feet.
Meanwhile, Edge was lying down on the bed when a figure scraped against the metal chute, climbing his way down. The human didn't move an inch. There was a small grunt as the invader hit the ground. He made his way to the bedroom. He was a fairly tall man, about six feet. He had hair blacker than ebony, and lightly tanned skin, complete with bright purple eyes. The man could be Edge's older brother. He sighed as he gazed upon his sleeping king. The man had a pink scar running over a single eye, but otherwise had nothing notable. He was clad in black renaissance-style robes. He stayed a good three feet from the bed. "Edge." He said simply. Slowly, the boy lifted the sheet, revealing he had been awake the whole time.
"Beelzebub..." He murmured blankly, not offering a smile. The hydra grunted.
"Always the same... Listen, we need you."
"I know."
"I don't want a war." Skylark whispered slowly. He clutched his Father's hand tighter. The world around them stunk of death. It bothered him. Skylark could feel it... In his bare feet. Pressing his soles against the squishy, damp, toxic ground, he could feel the slight resounding thumps. He had believed they were nothing but his foot tingling, not used to the dead Earth and trying to adjust but... It was.. "Father, I'm scared!" Skylark blurted. He could feel it, so prominent. The tops of ancient, ruined buildings all around him, casting him into further darkness. His mind wandered to something Edge had told them while they were still eggs. 'Hear the voice... of the sky itself. Can you hear it? It sounds...' The heartbeat of the Elder dragons resounded against his sensitive feet.
Meanwhile, Edge was lying down on the bed when a figure scraped against the metal chute, climbing his way down. The human didn't move an inch. There was a small grunt as the invader hit the ground. He made his way to the bedroom. He was a fairly tall man, about six feet. He had hair blacker than ebony, and lightly tanned skin, complete with bright purple eyes. The man could be Edge's older brother. He sighed as he gazed upon his sleeping king. The man had a pink scar running over a single eye, but otherwise had nothing notable. He was clad in black renaissance-style robes. He stayed a good three feet from the bed. "Edge." He said simply. Slowly, the boy lifted the sheet, revealing he had been awake the whole time.
"Beelzebub..." He murmured blankly, not offering a smile. The hydra grunted.
"Always the same... Listen, we need you."
"I know."
No prob. xD
As long as you haven't dropped me, I'm fine.
As long as you haven't dropped me, I'm fine.
Ferris gasped and widened his eyes. Did Rus seriously just say that seahorses were dumb? That wasn't nice, at all. The merman's lips sunk in a frown and his eyes narrowed. Seahorses were super cool! With their little fins and fun patterns, and their mating rituals weren't that strange. Ferris was silent for a little while, trying to understand where the rokea was coming from. Was it, that maybe he had never seen how cute seahorses were? Or maybe he had never spoken to one. They were such great listeners, too. Whenever Ferries needed to talk to someone, he would seek out a seahorse. He didn't talk to any deep-sea creatures, like the dubious squid or the gulper eels that haunted the dark waters. No, he was more inclined to speak to cute little seahorses. At least they would never attack him.
"That's sad. I'm sure if you gave them a chance, you'd love them, too." Wait did rokea eat seahorses? He didn't think so. His eyes widened. Why did he bring up a seahorse again? "Because seahorses are, like super fishy and squishy, y'know?" He blurted happily. Ferris then paused to contemplate why he brought up seahorses. He knew Rus needed a serious answer, so he would struggle to provide one. "A... Kingdom..." He thought aloud.
Then he suddenly perked up, like he remembered. "Oh, great speckled calamari bits! You're right!" He clapped his hands together. "The seahorses... they led to me to a castle... and then..." Ferris' eyes brightened again. "Oh, that's it." He said with a grin.
"That's sad. I'm sure if you gave them a chance, you'd love them, too." Wait did rokea eat seahorses? He didn't think so. His eyes widened. Why did he bring up a seahorse again? "Because seahorses are, like super fishy and squishy, y'know?" He blurted happily. Ferris then paused to contemplate why he brought up seahorses. He knew Rus needed a serious answer, so he would struggle to provide one. "A... Kingdom..." He thought aloud.
Then he suddenly perked up, like he remembered. "Oh, great speckled calamari bits! You're right!" He clapped his hands together. "The seahorses... they led to me to a castle... and then..." Ferris' eyes brightened again. "Oh, that's it." He said with a grin.
Harp let Bel lead him to this store, or whatever it was. He was busy thinking. Demons and angels both dwelt in the human realm, and it was strange. they thought themselves to be such higher creatures, yet they chose in their own free will to be in the human world. Unless the great Souls themselves ordered it to be so. It was very interesting, but for some reason Harp was thinking about the great Souls of Light and Dark. He didn't know much about the demon's gods or deities, but the angelic god wasn't kind, or even nice. He was ruthless and wise. Definitely the kind of guy you'd want to have on your side. There was another being, even greater than the Soul. There were many names for him, but they all pretty much meant and translated to Creator. While the Soul created souls and sent them to the realms, the Creator was different. He was a separate, deity, though many thought they were one and the same. This was false. The Creator was much more elusive. Perhaps the only one ever worthy to being called a true, 'God'. Or, if he was into puns, he could he say he was the 'Soul God'. Harp cracked a smile at his own joke.
Suddenly, he was snapped out of his idle thoughts when his arm was tugged by Bel. Pink eyes scanned the building's insides up and down. It seemed to be a pretty gothic store, but nothing too dark and evil. He half-expected there to be a while shelf on the back wall full of things like eyeballs and blood, and maybe a pentagram or two. He imagined there to be eerie shadows in the shape of gnarled fingers, reaching out to smother him in darkness. All in all, the shop didn't seem too scary. A costume shop would have been creepier! But there was the chill in the air, like something was off in a way. The cupid bit his bottom lip and ran a hand through his swept hair. He was a little nervous something would come and pop out of nowhere.
Something did! Or rather, someone. And not in a very frightening way at all. More like a sudden appearance. But why did the man stare at him such a way? Deciding not to anger the man, Harp smiled and gave him a pleasant wave.
Suddenly, he was snapped out of his idle thoughts when his arm was tugged by Bel. Pink eyes scanned the building's insides up and down. It seemed to be a pretty gothic store, but nothing too dark and evil. He half-expected there to be a while shelf on the back wall full of things like eyeballs and blood, and maybe a pentagram or two. He imagined there to be eerie shadows in the shape of gnarled fingers, reaching out to smother him in darkness. All in all, the shop didn't seem too scary. A costume shop would have been creepier! But there was the chill in the air, like something was off in a way. The cupid bit his bottom lip and ran a hand through his swept hair. He was a little nervous something would come and pop out of nowhere.
Something did! Or rather, someone. And not in a very frightening way at all. More like a sudden appearance. But why did the man stare at him such a way? Deciding not to anger the man, Harp smiled and gave him a pleasant wave.
Okay, great! xD
Bump~ :)
Bump~ :)
Some people think the desert is void of life. There are hot, dry winds, and sands that burn hotter than any Northern fire. There are harpies and other terrible creatures that prey on humans. They say water is scarce, and the people there are ruthless and cruel. He thought that this was funny.
As the youngest son of the land's only ruler, he spent his whole life in the desert. Though he had a vivid imagination, it was hard to picture a land that would be more beautiful. There were oasises of cool, fresh water, cacti taller than any palace that grew the most tender and sweetest of fruits, and hidden treasures in abundance. The people lived good lives, from the members of the royal court to the vagabonds that herded livestock.
He lived a cushy live in the palace, eating figs and taking baths with the most fracrant of oils and essences. He walked barefoot on the gold-tiled floors, and wore robes spun from the silk of the fire moth- very warm. He had three older brothers, that didn't like him very much because he was favored by their father for having a strong heart and soul. He was the one who was elected by the Royal Council to be the one to take the coronation trial and inherit the kingdom. This was partially due to the fact he was the only prince in the family who didn't go around calling people 'peasants'.
Even now, Cyrus was smiling from ear to ear. It had been a week ever since he had been given his first task by the Royal Court- to bring a feature from the fearsome winged lion! He had traveled to the mountainside village of Hamza,
in high hopes the villagers would give him useful information on the elusive and regal beast. Hamza had reportedly been attacked by such a creature, and they believed that the winged lion had a home somewhere high atop the mountains. Cyrus was by himself. It was against tradition for him to receive any royal help. Only the common man could help him now.
Hamza hadn't been attacked in years- with good reason. They left thirty of their prized livestock in a large pen near the edge of their town and at the base of the mountain as a tribute for the creature, and in return, they were not attacked. They had begged the prince not to be so headstrong, but he was more stubborn than any animal they had seen. Cyrus had decided to wait with the herd, in hopes he could encounter the lion.
Cyrus was a beauty. He had tanned honey skin, much lighter than most desert people. His eyes were a fiery golden color, and his amazingly soft dark hair crowned his look. He was wearing very light leather armor no more than an inch thick. He wore a silk hat reminiscent of a sailor's. He had but a single rapier.
Sitting amongst the sheep, the teenaged prince held his breath, afraid the lion would come any moment. It was very dark
As the youngest son of the land's only ruler, he spent his whole life in the desert. Though he had a vivid imagination, it was hard to picture a land that would be more beautiful. There were oasises of cool, fresh water, cacti taller than any palace that grew the most tender and sweetest of fruits, and hidden treasures in abundance. The people lived good lives, from the members of the royal court to the vagabonds that herded livestock.
He lived a cushy live in the palace, eating figs and taking baths with the most fracrant of oils and essences. He walked barefoot on the gold-tiled floors, and wore robes spun from the silk of the fire moth- very warm. He had three older brothers, that didn't like him very much because he was favored by their father for having a strong heart and soul. He was the one who was elected by the Royal Council to be the one to take the coronation trial and inherit the kingdom. This was partially due to the fact he was the only prince in the family who didn't go around calling people 'peasants'.
Even now, Cyrus was smiling from ear to ear. It had been a week ever since he had been given his first task by the Royal Court- to bring a feature from the fearsome winged lion! He had traveled to the mountainside village of Hamza,
in high hopes the villagers would give him useful information on the elusive and regal beast. Hamza had reportedly been attacked by such a creature, and they believed that the winged lion had a home somewhere high atop the mountains. Cyrus was by himself. It was against tradition for him to receive any royal help. Only the common man could help him now.
Hamza hadn't been attacked in years- with good reason. They left thirty of their prized livestock in a large pen near the edge of their town and at the base of the mountain as a tribute for the creature, and in return, they were not attacked. They had begged the prince not to be so headstrong, but he was more stubborn than any animal they had seen. Cyrus had decided to wait with the herd, in hopes he could encounter the lion.
Cyrus was a beauty. He had tanned honey skin, much lighter than most desert people. His eyes were a fiery golden color, and his amazingly soft dark hair crowned his look. He was wearing very light leather armor no more than an inch thick. He wore a silk hat reminiscent of a sailor's. He had but a single rapier.
Sitting amongst the sheep, the teenaged prince held his breath, afraid the lion would come any moment. It was very dark
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