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#Post#: 25691--------------------------------------------------
SPOTTEH'S STORIES!!
By: Spotteh Date: August 23, 2013, 9:01 pm
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So I'm making this beclaws my computer has yet to be installed
with word. And beclaws I just seem to be more musey when I'm
posting on this site. Anyways. This is for all my little fan
fictions, stories, character ref. crud and whatever else. This
will be locked so no one other than me can post in it. If you're
just wonderfully overwhelmed by my stories [s]which i doubt
greatly[/s] you can pm me or post in one of my other stories
threads. Also, I'm not going to do solely one fandom or another.
This is for me and whatever the crap pops into my head. Though I
may take requests for stories, in which case, pm me and we'll
talk. I'm talking too much so onto the stories.
#Post#: 25712--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {NO POSTY!}
By: Spotteh Date: August 23, 2013, 9:41 pm
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Maryum Natur was sick. Over the last few centuries it had only
gotten worse. The humans were killing her She had tried
everything. She had sent tornado after earthquake after
lightning storm, trying to stop them. In one desperate episode,
she had yelled and screamed in someone's face. But the air still
grew thick with smog, poison was still being dumped into her
waters, and most of all, the ozone was still thinning. She was
hot. She was sweating. She was melting. And nothing she did
could stop it.
As she made her way through the dense forest of southern Chile,
the thick vines and foliage moved, as though to make way for
her. On her shoulder an albino raven stood perched. Every so
often the bird would beat it's wings, as though it could feel
its master's discomfort. Most likely it could. And on her left
loomed the Andes mountains. She could still remember when those
mountains held feet of snow, even in the blistering heat of
summer. That snow was now nothing more than a white smudge on
the tip of the stone mound. Once she had walked with the glow of
life, proud and strong, a trail of thick healthy leaves and the
hum of new life filling her ears. That glow of life was gone,
dimmed by what the humans had done; her trail little more than
sprouts and grass.
Not far from where she walked was a small village. Their
company, at least, she could enjoy. But for now they were
asleep. Night had just fallen and no doubt the children would be
tucked away for the night's dreams. As though on cue, curls of
golden sand laced through the sky, down to the darkened houses.
Maryum watched through narrowed eyes. She was not a fan of the
guardians. Mostly, she was not a fan of the Man in the Moon. He
had broken her rules and then forced her children to fight one
another. It was atrocious. So no, he did not have her
sympathies. If she had a way to do it, she would drag him down
to her and give him a what for. A wheezing cough broken through
her thoughts. This would not do. If nothing changed, and changed
soon, this world would end, possibly even her along with it.
Clouded blue eyes found the golden swirls once more. Perhaps it
was time she visited an old friend.
#Post#: 36366--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {NO POSTY!}
By: Spotteh Date: November 24, 2013, 7:35 pm
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To say Hell is a bad place is like saying prison is a bad place.
It's not a place anyone wants to be in and the people in it are
bad. But to the people who work there, it's just a job. They
aren't evil. We aren't evil.
For some reason, humans want to turn us demons into some kind of
evil creatures that live in fire and get our slaps and giggles
from torturing human souls who have it coming. This is not the
case. In the past few centuries we've tried to change that.
We've been voted the friendliest city in the Underworld. We've
redone the entrance. We gave Cerberus his first bath in... We
gave Cerberus his first bath.
I know that look on your face because I have the same one as I'm
writing this. In all honesty, this isn't my thing normally. I
don't spend my time writing in journals for human's benefit.
Just bare with me as I tell my story. There are somethings you
need to know. If you wan to blow this off as a bunch of crud,
that's fine with me. I'd do the exact same thing. But you'll be
missing out if you do.
#Post#: 36506--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {NO POSTY!}
By: Spotteh Date: November 26, 2013, 9:29 pm
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There are places and times in Hell when it's one of the most
beautiful places you've ever seen; even down on the punishment
fields. Lunch time is almost one of those times. The punishments
fall silent without the screams of daily torture, only the
occasional moan of pain, and commotion. During lunch, all us
demons head up to a floating platform about 20 feet above the
fields. It's a ton easier to eat without some soul grabbin at
you or makin those damn puppy dog eyes at you. Greed knows I
can't say no to 'em. Up on that platform is a handy dandy
cafeteria for all your food type needs. We've got everything
from spicy mushroom mush to burnt mushroom mush with too many
onions. The whole place glows from the flames of the punishment
fields, but they have torches specklin the place too. Since I
work for Greed, these torches burn an emerald green.
#Post#: 36588--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {NO POSTY!}
By: Spotteh Date: November 27, 2013, 8:17 pm
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Scritch scritch scritch The shadows on her nose. The lashes
flicking out above her eyes. The tell tell curve of her lips
when she smiles. And then she was gone. They took her. Her
drawing at least. They always took her. Always. It could be
Momma or Meulin or Pounce but they always took it. I think I
left a mark when they ripped my sketch book away from me. I was
going to have to fix that. Momma didn't have a mark. Momma was
perfect.
I didn't look at them. Things were worse when I looked at
them. I could hear them tossing the book around. I could see the
shadow as it sailed over my head. Why did they do this? They
were so loud. I could feel the headache coming on already from
everyone else talking and laughing and responding. I hate
headaches. I could feel myself rocking in my seat as well. They
laughed when I did nothing. Leaning in close and calling me a
retard. But they didn't touch me. No. I attacked the last person
who touched me. I don't like people touching me. I hate when
they call me retard too. I'm not retarded. My grades are better
than theirs so no. I'm not retarded. But I'm not right either. I
couldn't talk right. I guess thats why they're mean to me. It's
so stupid. Just because I'm a little different. I want to punch
all their stupid mean faces in. I rock a little faster and ball
up my hands in my pants.
And then they do it. I can hear it. The ripping. They were
ripping up Momma. Rip rip rip No. They can't rip up Momma. Momma
isn't ripped. She's perfect. I pressed my balled up hands over
my ears. No no no. Momma isn't ripped. So she can't be ripped
when I draw her. They lean in close again, laughing. They're so
mean. Why are they so mean? They act as though I've done
something amazing, all because I moved for once. They say it's a
miracle and other mean stuff. At least I think they do. My brain
doesn't put the sounds together right all the time so sometimes
it doesn't make sense to me. But I know they're being mean. They
way they sound, they sound mean. I want to yell at them. I want
to call them meanies and stupid heads and everything else I
think in my head. I want to let them know that I hate when they
do that. When they rip up my drawings. I worked so hard on them
and they rip them up as though it's something they made and have
decided stinks so they rip it up so no one will ever see it ever
again. I'm a better drawer than them. They shouldn't rip up my
drawings. They shouldn't rip up Momma. I want to let them know
that they should all just go jump in a hole and die for being
such mean horrible people. But I can't. I can't because my brain
won't let me talk all the time. Not the way I want to. So I do
what I can do. I scream.
I scream long and loud with my balled up hands pressed to my
ears and rocking back and forth quickly. They laugh at me some,
saying the retard has gone bezerk. So I scream louder. I take
their words and turn it into bad feelings and put it into the
scream. The headache is here so I take that pain and put it into
the scream. I take everything bad and throw it at them through
the scream because that's all I can do. That's the only way I
can show them. And I scream and scream and scream. But they
don't leave. They back away some with my book and laugh at me
like the mean people they are. Why don't they understand what
I'm trying to tell them? Are they stupid? Or are they just that
cruel? They pull out another page of Pounce de Leon with his
wide happy cat grin and rip him in half. They can't rip up
Pounce either. Pounce is my friend and they can't rip him up
because he isn't ripped up. Even with that black mark on his
chin that almost makes him look like he has two mouths, he isn't
ripped up. He's fluffy and sweet and perfect in a different way
than Momma is and they can't just rip him up. Why don't they see
that? Pounce doesn't deserve it.
And one of them falls over. There's a new one now. Short and
skinny but not at the same time. He's nubby. Yes. Nubby. I
haven't seen this one before. He sounds so angry and mean but I
think he's being nice. I stop screaming and sit there, rocking
back and forth with my balled up hands over my ears. Every now
and again, I glance his way to see what's going on. He hit one
of them and he runs away. The new boy is standing there,
pointing to me and pointing to my sketch book and pointing to
them. The new boy brings new words, words I've never hear or
seen before. Words like '****' and '****'. Those words are new
but what do they mean? They stare at the new boy with wide eyes
as though they're amazed and start to back away, throwing my
sketch book at him. It's like watching a little dog chase of the
big dog and I watch him for longer than I normally look at
people. He has hair so light I'd call it white and eyes the
color of red Valentine's Day cards. It's like he was rolled in a
black carpet with only his skinny legs sticking out, his chin is
covered with black fabric from his turtle neck. Those skinny
legs covered in grey skinny jeans. He must buy very small jeans.
And even though his hair is shaggy and his eyes are sharp and
angry, everything about him screams nubby.
He walks over and puts my sketch book back on my school desk.
But I don't say anything because I can't and I don't look at him
because I don't know him. He is strange and new and nubby. The
nubby boy says something that my brain doesn't catch but he
sounds so angry and loud and mean. I close my eyes tight and
ball up my fists a little more. Is he angry? Is he angry at me?
Is he angry because I screamed? I don't want him to be angry
with me. He was so nice and he has such white hair and red eyes.
He leans down like they did and I can feel him there, about to
touch me. I will scream again if he touches me. I don't like
people touching me. I want to tell him this but I don't because
I don't know if my brain will let me and I don't want to take
the chance. But he doesn't touch me and he asks:
"Are you ok?" He still sounds angry but less angry and more
frustrated and really worried. But I don't really care because
no one ever asks me that except Momma and Meulin and my teacher
Ms. Peixes. I look at him but only for a second and see those
bright red eyes. He stays for a second when I don't respond
before saying something about autistics. He tells me his name
once or twice to try and see if I'm listening. I am but I don't
look at him or let him know. His name is Karkat. He asks me what
my name is but I don't answer or look at him. He is a stranger.
I don't know him. I don't know Karkat. I don't want to talk to
him because I don't want to know what he'll do when I try. So he
reads my name tag on the top of my school desk. He says it a few
times to make sure he's saying it right. I'm not rocking so fast
anymore and I'm staring at my book and the scraggly white pages
that stick out from the edge. But the pages aren't white anymore
because I've drawn on them. I like hearing his voice even though
it's less angry and more frustrated. He has a nice voice even
though I sometimes don't know what he's saying. So when he says
my name right I tuck my chin in just a little. I don't think he
noticed because he sighed and gave up. When he asks if he can
look at my drawings I jerk my head twice without moving my eyes
from a little triangle of not white paper sticking away from the
corner of the cover. He doesn't know what to do after than so he
fidgets for a moment or two and goes away. But before he goes
away he says:
"Goodbye Nepeta."
If I were different, I could see myself looking him in the
while he walks away and waving to him with smooth little waves
and I say:
'Goodbye Karkat. I'll see you later.'
#Post#: 36589--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {PLEASE POST}
By: Spotteh Date: November 27, 2013, 8:19 pm
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Ok. I want to know what you guys think about that most recent
post. It's an humanstuck AU where Nepeta is autistic with
amazing drawing skills but no one knows beclaws everyone is mean
to her. Then she meets Karkat who is albino and he's the only
one who is nice to her because he knows what it's like to be
different and made fun of because of that. I don't know much
about what it's like to actually be autistic so I just imagined
what it might be like. If any of you do know, please tell me so
I can fix it. I really want this to be accurate and I don't want
to offend any one either by getting it wrong.
#Post#: 36590--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {PLEASE POST}
By: puddincat Date: November 27, 2013, 8:25 pm
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It's adorable<3
Katnep furever
#Post#: 36592--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {PLEASE POST}
By: Spotteh Date: November 27, 2013, 8:59 pm
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But how good is it? Does it seem like just some fluff to you?
Claws this is going to be a series and I want it to be really
REALLY good.
#Post#: 36596--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {PLEASE POST}
By: puddincat Date: November 27, 2013, 9:51 pm
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10 outta 10 gurl
Fluff is good
But I think it could makes an awesome story
#Post#: 36603--------------------------------------------------
Re: SPOTTEH'S STORIES!! {PLEASE POST}
By: Spotteh Date: November 27, 2013, 10:19 pm
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Thank you. I have some serious plans for this. It's going to be
one of those heart warming stories that you just want to read
forever. If you ever see anything in there that doesn't seem
quite right or could be improved upon, tell me please.
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