DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
Gamestar Mechanic Forum
HTML https://gamestarforum.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: Individual Writing
*****************************************************
#Post#: 22590--------------------------------------------------
Sinful Fantasm
By: Epsilon Date: April 25, 2015, 6:19 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Sinful Fantasm
Whirling wind.
The sand-brown skies, blocking the sun.
The once blue skies, blotted out by this, almost maddening, aura
above.
Yet, no-one could even remember those blue skies. They've just
accepted this fate given to them.
Many felt regret. She, herself, felt like she regret a lot of
things. But they've all accepted this fate, not knowing their
regret.
Those who couldn't accept their regret, became savages.
Monsters, many of them became. Another thing, she could say,
that she regret. Killing for a reason she didn't know.
SHe looked back up to the skies, red scarf over her mouth and
nose. She missed the blue skies they once all had. She never saw
them, but she missed them anyway.
She felt like she had a lifetime of memories, with the blue
skies. But nothing. All she could remember, were those last few
years, and these barren lands
The tainted skies she gazed upon, accompanied by the filthy,
nearly flat plains. The lack of plants, made it almost
surprising that they could breath at all. Either jagged rocks,
or old, metal pieces, outcropped from the dusty ground. Perfect,
for such a war-hungry society.
No... Societies were long past them. As far as her memories
reached, everyone was in a every-man-for-himself mindset. A few
gangs popup here or there, but the large societies that no-one
knew, were gone.
The female groaned. Her wound was still untreated. A hand was
held towards the gash on her right-side, a lengthy sword dragged
behind by the other. It pained her. Not just the wound, but the
senseless scuffling. She never enjoyed killing, but the nonstop
conflict, and a need for self-defense, pushed her.
She regret joining the syndicate. She had since the moment she
joined. But, clear as day it was, that it was her best chance of
survival. Many syndicates, were created as a means to defend
against the nonstop attacks of others. Conflict between the
syndicates weren't uncommon, but it was far less of a threat
than an ambush by thieves.
She groaned again. Looking downward, lifting her hand off the
wound. Still bleeding. The females movements have been growing
slower the more she went on, however, she was beginning to
become worried. She has yet to find the den, and her wound
threatened severe bloodloss.
She looked back up, looking around the barren land. It was
quiet. Always quiet unless a fight broke out. But was it quiet?
Her head was full of the wind blowing, the sound of her sword,
metal against rock, grinding as she walked. he footsteps echoing
loudly. It was quiet, but her head still rang from the painful
noise.
Then dirt.
Her vision suddenly became very dark, her face in pain. She
tasted dirt. Realizing she fell over, she tried to role to her
back. All that she managed to do, was to create more pain in the
gash on her right side. Her mind became fuzzy after a few
seconds, she stopping her struggling.
Well, perhaps another chance to dream?
#Post#: 24582--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sinful Fantasm
By: Epsilon Date: June 9, 2015, 5:32 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
"You can stop that, now."
Poke.
"Tzeal, I said stop!"
Poke.
Slap.
The black haired male rubbed his cheek, frowning, leaning his
body away from the smaller, white haired woman, who held a
scowling look on her face. In front of the female, was a wooden
desk, holding various metal scraps and mineral shards. Her hands
previously held a heated stick and tweezers, dropped from her
annoyance with the previously poking male.
"It is not like you can achieve anything from this, Delphic. You
should not pretend to be better than a third-rate magic user."
As the male, Tzeal spoke, standing upright and crossing his
arms, he looked down at her work, several of the rock pieces
broken and useless. Delphic sighed, placing her hands on the
table corner, head downcast.
"You should know better than anyone, Tzeal, that I'm not giving
up on this! It upsets me, honestly, that there's a lack of any
information..."
The man released a quiet sigh, pulling up the hood to his black
traveling robes, sitting himself down an an old-looking, wooden
chair. the surrounding room had mainly stone bricks, having been
built inside a cave, with wooden furniture , and moth eaten
rugs. Despite the cheap look of the home, it was well off
compared to much of the other areas.
The female also sighed, out of frustration, throwing her rear
down onto the stool behind her, crossing her arms. Her black and
white colored Victorian-styled dress, had some obvious irt,
appearing to not have been washed in a long time. While it was
off shoulder, it had long sleeves, one arm length having a tear
in the material.
A moment of silence passed between the two, Delphic
concentrating on her own thoughts, while Tzeal seemed to let
himself fall half-asleep. The male's foot tapped a few times,
being the only sound in the room, apart from Delphic's
breathing. Finally, after the few minutes went by, the woman
stood back up, knocking the stool back a bit.
"Well, Tzeal, if you're so pessimistic about my work, I'll head
over and get Rena's help!" Holding back a laugh, Tzeal sat
upright, looking up towards Delphic, the female scowling at his
response, as he grinned.
"I doubt she will do any less than most of the work, but,
nonetheless, it will be amusing seeing the two of struggle." As
the male stood up, he then followed the other outside.
*****************************************************