Jan_16_2012

The travelling party moved into position in front of the giant fissure in the canyon face. The carriage wheels slowly creaking til stopped, and the gentle thud of the brakes being engaged echoing off the bare rock face. The driver, his long sullen face cast into sharp shadows by the carriages lamplight, stepped down and opened the door wide.
A man, tall and lanky, yet muscular, and some even say handsome, stepped out. His face was cool, calm and deadly, his eyes glinted with malicious purpose. He cast a quick glance around the deserted canyon basin, his eyes finally falling on the imposing chasm that opened in front of them. Great things will be accomplished here this day. The thought boiled in the Baron’s mind like jet fuel.
“Get him out here.”
From the depths of the large carriage came a low grunt, and the solid clanking of chains. A thin man flew from the carriage, evidently  pushed by the large Glovar gaurd inside;  and landed, crumpled and winded, at the Barons feet. The Glovar gaurd followed behind, his imposing mass casting a dark shadow over the prisoners pale body.
“Pick him up.”
The guard grabbed the figure by the scruff of the rag he wore as a shirt and hoisted him to his feet. Tthe baron grabbed the lamp from atop the carriage and swung it around to light the chasm. The light seemed not to pierce it, as though the light reached the entrance of the canyon and was absorbed into the blackness. The pale figure began to quiver, muttering incomprehesble phrases under his breath.

The Baron tilted his head to the Glovar and the gaurd led the way into the cave, the man in chains trailing behind. The path was flat for about a hundred meters, but littered with rubble, ranging in size from marbles to rocks that dwarfed even the impressive Glovar, so the going was slow. They would have to stop occasionally to hoist themselves over a paticularly large boulder or press themselves through a gap beside the wall. Eventually they approached the end of the passageway, where the path dropped off into a vast spiraling walkway, leading down into what they couldn’t say, thick fog covered the base of the cavern. The path itself was of an ancient stone. While it could have once been intricately carved it now lay in ruin, weathered and worn away so that it’s once beautiful inlays were lost to time.

Betraying only a hint of apprehension, the Baron waved the Glovar forward and grabbed the chained prisoner from him. He yanked the chain hard and the prisoner let out a weak yelp of shock as he hit the ground hard again. He tried to look up as the Baron urged the Glovar forward. Although he could not see it in his impenetrable face, the gaurd seemed cautious of the pathway. Gingerly he stepped forward, first placing the weight of one foot on the path and slowly the other, until at last the full weight of the gaurd was on the bridge.

Seemingly satisfied the Baron moved forward and was just about to step onto the path when a loud crack split the silence. It happened in a span The prisoner waited to hear the tell tale thud that would indicate the Glovars landings; but it never came.

“Curious,” Said the Baron, obviously noticing the lack of impact as well, “Very curious.”

The Baron cast a glance around the cavern, looking for another way down, but there was none. The prisoner had slumped into a sort of fetal position on the ground nearby, his breath passing in dry rasps.

‘Hmm, I had hoped not to have to use this,” The baron spoke under his breath, only really for his own benefit, “But desperate times I suppose.” He lifted a small gold disc out of his jacket pocket. It glowed with an almost etherial light, and looked to be not quite solid, as though made of thick fog trapped in the shape of a coin. The prisoner managed to raise his head slightly at the reveal of the glowing disc, but only for a moment. The realization of what was to come was more than he could handle at the moment.The baron lifted the coin to his mouth and began whispering very quickly and almost silently in a language the prisoner had never heard before.

The air in the cavern began to shift, it moved in odd ripples and undulations, although there was no wind. It begand to grow thicker, until it was almost chokingly so. Then suddenly with a head splitting crack, the prisoner and the Baron felt the universe invert and every particle of thier body ripped apart and scattered accross the furthest reazches of the universe. And just as suddenly as it had begun it was over. The world righted itself, the air became thin and breathable and the two beings were whole again.

The prisoner tried to vomit but he had nothing to expel and instead lasped into laborious painful dry heaves. The baron stepped forward, faltered only for a moment, but was quickly back to his collected self. He paused only the glance at the gold disc, now devoid of light, and cast it aside.

“Pity,” He turned his attention to the man doubled over on all fours, “Move.”

The word was cold and commanding. The baron pulled hard on the chains again and the man was dragged, still heaving, from his feet. They walked for several moments with only the sound of thier own echoing footsteps and the occasional coughs of the prisoner to accompany them before the prisoner began to realize where the Baron had brought them. The path here was narrower, the air cooler and thinner. They must be very deep.

Jan 11- 2012 (2)

I started this one earlier today, but I didn't really have anywhere to go with it. But I figured I'd throw it up anyways.

He felt his neck pop back into place as he tried to stretch out the tension that had been bilding over the last few hours. He certainly wasn't a bureaucrat, that  much he could be sure. Even the few brief hours he had spent in the company of the royal oversight commision had left him exhausted and with knots of tension. Although if he was to be honest, he had only really been paying attention for about half of it. Most of the discussions had revolved around the shifting of funds from one branch to another and why the Queens favorite shade of Hellebore had not been recieved from the planting fields. Typical royal peddling

A pair of sharp dressed men walked past, each holding a clipboard and comparing figures. He could just hear something about the princess' wedding and a bouquet delivery truck before the men rounded the corner and fell out of earshot. The short hall which the meeting room opened out into fell silent.

Jan 11 - 2012

 "Slow down you eejit! You're gonna kill yourself!" his voice was strong but the warning was lost on the wind. Sam Windfall's feet pounded the hard dirt at full speed. His sister Julia raced ahead. Vaulted over a fallen log and under a low hanging branch, her pace never slowing. Sam slid through the small space the arc of the log made with ground, jumped and grabbed a hold of the low hanging branhc and with the grace of an olympic gymnast flung himself onto an upper branch of the great oak tree. His feet moved in perfect harmony, maintaining his balance on the shaking tree and moving him at great speed. He reached the end and leapt, soaring, and landing in roll, now only feet behind Julia.
    She let loose a wild, animalistic, laugh and dodged sideways into a cornfield. Her long golden hair trailing behind her.
    "OY!...not...cool!" But his voice was lost between quick breaths. He dived in behind her, tall stalks of corn whipping at his thin frame. Panting hard he threw himself through row after row of corn, searching for his elusive sister. But she was no where to be found in the thick field. He slowed, and stopped, catching his breath and listening hard.
    The air was quiet, even the birds seemed to have gone silent to aid him in his search. The only sound was his own breath; he forced himself to slow, to allow himself the space to listen. But there was nothing, not a movement, not a breath, silence. She seemed to have disappeared completely.
    A gentle breeze passed though the field rustled the leaves of a nearby, tree breaking the silence. His snapped in that direction and he bolted towards it. A top branch jerked, causing a small pile of autumn leaves to rain down, while a gold blur fell to the ground and took off into the field. Sam Windwall grinned in determination and urged his legs faster. He had to admire the girls ability.

He burst through a row of high corn and saw the shape of his sister bolting down the steep hill. He took off, legs burning, but his determination to finally beat her kept him running.

Crack The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, a dull throb cutting through his temple. All he could see was sky, but it seemed odd, out of focus, shimmering, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He tried to move, but his body refused his orders, remaining motionless in the tall grass. The dull throb in his temple flared into a spliting pain, and the world went black.

Jan 4th-2012

Disclaimer: I've been reading Tad Williams the War of The Flowers lately so that may have played a somewhat small role in the inspiration for this piece...as I'm sure it will in future. And if you haven't, go read it, it's an awesome book.

Heady aromas filled the air, sweet teas and coffees from far off lands. They swirled and mixed to create new and wonderous smells. A gentle melody of chinking cups and glasses played under the contented mutterings of convbersation. The small shop was busy, but not crowded. It was filled with men and women of all shapes and sizes, each slowly enjoying their expertly brewed drinks, some partaking in pleasant conversation. Others, like Theo say quietly, content to watch and observe the tea shop in silence.

At the bar, or as close as could be considered in a place like this, sat a large creature. Easily the width and breadth of three full grown human men, it sat hunched over the bar. It’s skin was like sandpaper, dark grey and wrinkled. It reminded Theo a bit of a rhinocerous, with the obvious exception of the horn, of which this creature had three, ringing his forhead like a natural sort of crown. The creatures expression was hard to read, not for the least of reasons because it’s back was turned to him, but also because Glovar’s faces were locked in a sort of eternal glare. Theo was fairly certain he had never seen one so much as crack a smile. This made it very hard to tell whether one was about to spear you through the chest or have a drink with you and sing a song of the old world. The Glovar was dressed in a neatly pressed pale green uniform, Theo could just make out the insignia of the royal gaurd emblazoned on the shoulder. A palace gaurd just off duty, Theo guessed. The ringingof the small bell above the shop door caught the gaurds attention and he turned to look. Which was no small feat for a Glovar as it happens, a small pixie waitress had to dive sideways to prevent herself from being thrown halfway across the room and the small goblin next to him had nearly been faceplanted into his coffee by the Glovars wayward hand.

                Theo, holding back a grin looked to the small waitress, now hovering a foot from the ceiling as to ensure no more near misses with flying Glovar arms. She was brushed a long stand of golden red hair out of her eyes as the Glovar gave her a short apology before returning to his drink. Theo managed to catch her eye as she looked up, she gave him a small nod and one of those charming pixie smiles, that could cause any mans heart to melt, and flew back to the kitchen.

She must make great tips. The thought flew threw Theos head but he was quickly distracted by the sight of the large gaurds drink disappearing behind the great bulk of the mans body. Theo fought hard not to truly burst out in laughter. For although it had only been visible for a moment the small plate in front of him held the smallest tea cup he had ever seen. It was a pale shade of pink and covered in small pastel colored flowers, a small trail of steam issued from the top of the miniscule cup. Just one of the many reasons Theo loved coming here. In fact, one of the other reasons he enjoyed this place was what had caught the Glovars attention.

From his seat the door was blocked from Theos view, but he didn’t need to see her to know that she had arrived. The entire room lit up when she entered; Theo took a moment to enjoy the double meaning of that phrase here, on one hand it was literally true, in that she was one of the few fairies who still bothered to glow on a daily basis, most fairies had either stopped altogether or simply reserved it for more auspicious occasions, and the other hand, there wasn’t a soul alive that she hadn’t met that didn’t like her.

Jan 3rd - 2012

The seven dwarf-class mining vessels hung silent in space, their captains frozen in stunned awe at the pure white ship, floating dead in space.  The only sign that it was still a functioning ship was the slowly circulating enviromental systems their scanners could pick up.

Jan 2nd - 2012

|He had never really notyiced the wonderful little patterns blood made when it mixed with shampoo. Wonderful crimson little curls and arcs, like one of those fractals illustrations he had seen in a math textbook while trying to kill another boring lecture in high school. It was really quite beautiful.

                Something stirred in the back of his brain but he couldn't quite bring it to the forefront, so he shoved it aside, obviously it wasn't very important. He returned his gaze to the blood beneath slowly mixing with the greenish shampoo; the patterns slowly becoming more intricate as the two liquids merged.

                Probably something to do with the whole oil and water thing, diatomic atoms or whatever semi latin words they used to describe that effect. His brain lurched on the question of whether, blood had water in it. Of course it did, why else would it be all liquidy like that?

                That thing at the back of his tugged at him again, but he still couldn't pick it out.

                The shampoo was almost completely red now, well not red nessacarily more of a greeny red, and the patterns had all but dissappeared, washed over by the large amount of blood now slowly lining the bathtub.

                The thing at the back of his brain moved a little closer into focus.

                Why is there blood in the bathtub? That wasn't right, was it?

                After a few brief moments of internal debate, he decided that, no it wasn't.  Of course what he could be expected to do about it he wasn't sure. This wasn't really the sort of thing one encountered on a daily basis. There certainly hadn't been any drills in school for this sort of thing. Now if the bathtub had been on fire, or in the middle of an earthquake, that, he could handle; but blood? No one had prepared him for that.

                Another thought slowly crept into his mind, one that, as it's true meaning slowly dawned on him filled him with a sudden sick feeling.

                I have blood in me. I need it to live.

                He pushed that thought down, of course, that couldn't be his blood, if he had lost that much blood he could hardly be sitting here watching the blood slowly mix with shampoo in all sorts of wonderful little swirls now could he? No, he would be much more likely to be slumped over sideways, unconcious, or dead.

                Of course.

                It wouldn't hurt to check now would it?

                I mean, if that is my blood, I think i have a certain right to know about it.

                He liked this thought, it sounded like a good idea.

                He looked down at his legs. Or at least where he thought his legs should be. They seemed to be missing at the moment. So, thinking he might have better luck with his hands, he tried looking at them. This time he did have a bit more success although he wished he hadn't. His arm was there, but it was twisted, obviously broken in at least 3 spots; and covered completely in bright, wet blood.

                "Well thats not right." He spoke aloud to the echoey bathroom. Or, at least, he thought he had spoken aloud. He tried again, but he still couldn't hear his own voice.

                That's certainly odd. he filed that thought away to be dealt with at a later time. One thing at a time right now.

                He turned back to his arm. Or, at least, he thought he turned, his vision had shifted, but he hadn't felt his flesh touch the cool bathtub walls when he did so. He tried shifting again, this time his vision landed directly on his own mangled and bleeding face staring back at him. A thoughourly undignified look of shock plastered accross it.

                He tried to change it, but the face just stared back with cold, dead eyes.

               

                This was to much, he had been perfectly happy watching the crimson swirls and arcs, but now he was staring at his own stupid dead face that refused to do as he told it.

                It must be a thursday, never could get the hang of thurdays.

                He cracked a smile at the joke. Or well, he thought he did, but the face staring back at him, his face, just stayed frozen, pathetic as ever.

                "Enjoying yourself?"

                He jolted, the sudden voice had sent a bolt of shock down his spine. \He turned to see the mystery speaker.

               

                "Who the-?" He tried to splutter out, but again his voice seemed mysteriously absent.

                "Oh yeah, that, you'll get the hang of it." The voice was coming from a handsome blond haired man in a nice suit sitting lazily on the bathroom sink, " sonuvabitch took me forever to figure out For a while there you could only hear every other word, made dinner conversation a helluva lotmore interesting I'll tell ya that." A small grin split the mans face and his eyes glanced in the direction if the tub.

                "Well i suppose you'll be wanting to know whats goin on then won't yah?"

                he felt himself say "yes." Though no sound emerged.

                A smile split the mans face again, revealing two rows of perfect, pure white teeth. He looked like one ofthose guys you would see in ads for private schools.

                "Right, well, short version. You're dead."

                The two words didn't really seem to stick, he must've heard him wrong. Dead? How could that be, he was right here, watching the little arcs and curls. Weren\t you suppose to go to some sort of heaven or hell when you died? Not...your bathroom, the very thought was ridiculous.