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The Brightest Candles Always MeltListen, little soul, when they said we all belong
it was not a susurrance of any substance.
They weren't thinking for those tiny torments
dream by dream
that set your madness apart.
It might be that you keep this truth,
antimacassared in lace,
so that your grief, fragile and caring
like the tremble of a mother's lip,
mightn't pervade and be pervaded by
the callous surety of life.
It might be that you feared that unveiling
your scales of judgement might tip them,
and your shattered epoche yield no Ataraxia.
It might even be you feared you were...
But feeble soul, I think it more
that if you weren't to don the mask of rapport,
if you were to enter as a stranger, as is true,
that you fear you'd have to listen--
not to act, but confront and heed.
And so to add a new burden
to your sodden, soaking 'tross.
Steerage DrabbleArrenhius? He’s that man, sitting there with the dark, dark eyes. The one whose skin is as black as the rough charcoal he carries everywhere, and who’s shirt, when he’s not garbed for the ravages of the outside world, is about as white as the bastardized equivalent of paper we get out here. You think I’m talking about him sympathetically—well, I suppose so. It’s me and my mercy that’s got him in this kettle now, and at this point it’s starting to boil. Look, even his brother’s there, brushing past him and knocking his shoulder, and he’s so used to it by now he hasn’t even glanced up—do I pity him? No. You don’t pity people in New Caledonia.
I guess you could say I… admire him, more like. And wasn’t that how this all started? …ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Look, if you want to know how things stand it’s like this: He’s New Caledonia’s first professional artist
Character Introduction: DemiHe was clutching a leather bag to his side, swaddled in a greatcloak large enough to engulf his slight frame as it tumbled through the labyrinthine allies of Rygg. Above, spherical gargoyles hovered, glaring down at him with green, malignant eyes, a click then a slow, retreating whirr denoting that their technomantic lenses had deemed him deviant but harmless. One particularly stubborn device had followed him a mile, and his heart had skipped, but he was praying harder that the men on duty watching the surveillance weren’t laughing at the tears he was trying to swallow.
He wasn’t supposed to be on the verge of wetting his eyes, he thought frustratedly. No, he was a man now; he was leaving home of no one’s volition but his own, he was--.
This suggestion dawned on him uncertainly, an ocean of possibility lapping gently at his conscience rather than crashing against the shore of resolve he’d built for himself over the course of the past fortn
Radical Part IVCinder and Yura were standing at the center of Cosm's ring of law offices. Not the geographical center, as they were standing on the ring itself, but the metaphorical one for certain.
Yura's father was the chief of police, after all, and this was his HQ. Cinder, ever fascinated with history, had a healthy appreciation for how terribly a bad force could tip the scales and how what a good force did shouldn't be impressive or awe-inspiring so much as keeping everything smooth enough that day-to-day life could press on.
Cinder loved the station, but Yura and she knew better than to wander any farther than the commons, and there they planted themselves in a corner so as not to be trampled by the men and women hustling through. The round badge of a safety meter under the officials' garments glowed orange and not green, a warning of their status even when they weren't in uniform. Those uniforms were dull dark green and in a more contemporary (twentieth-century military) style than civi
Radical Part IIICinder always had thought she was different. Most people did. But she didn't mean in the usual, angst-ridden sense of the word, didn't harvest the delusion that no one could understand; humans were equipped to fathom each other all too well if only they'd use their brains. Yes… rather than all that she had come to realize that in a world where others were actors on the stage, as a fine playwright had pointed out in mankind's woe-begotten past, she felt like a one-woman audience.
Others flitted about in their roles, and she saw them each for their virtues and flaws. There were, she had come to realize, no heroes or villains. Only Fate's fickle little emissaries come to shape the universe as they pleased, as it was to be. The truth amused Cinder. She had long ago ceased yearning for white wizards and fearing the wicked witch.
Yet, when she'd watched Rad lay into Yura with that temper of his, when she'd born witness to that act—her favorite of dramatis personae clashing—she'd suddenly fel
Magnum Opus Part III of IIIThe Gondola's Tale
Prostrate. It had always been such a feeble sounding word, limp and benign. It was the kind of word you wanted to assign your enemies as they drew their last, the kind of word reserved for the pitiful by the proud.
And yet what peace.
Icarus stared, simply stared. It was all that he could do. He had been released from the choice of rising, or of speaking, or of searching his environs. All that was left to him was his lot, a swaddle of helplessness and the timeless sensation of all the world washing over him, effacing him, wearing away all the rough and craggy edges as it coaxed him gently from existence. He half wondered if he were lying on a beachbut no. He was not above the waves. He was a part of them, just like the smooth ashwood gondola under him, whose bottom was all he could see. Well, all he could see beside the scintillating robe that fell in front of his eyes, undulating with the motion of its oarsman.
He meant scintillating in
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More