Neiro sat down on the boulder, warmed by the morning sun, and forcibly relaxed his body.
A contented sigh left him as he felt the tension drain, and he but closed his eyes to take in the burbling of the nearby creek as he extended himself into the aether. The world slipped away from him and he was surrounded by the gentle void, the flow of Time once more swirling around him.
Never had he been involved so personally with the corporeal realm until Muspell has so forcibly summoned them.
The Numen chuckled to himself at the memory. Going so far as to tear into the very fabric of existence. Though it was well executed and contained to the Ophidian's credit. He would give the Muspell that much. To tear into the fabric of reality was a particularly dangerous and needless to say, reckless choice. How easily he could've torn himself asunder with that which was lost then.
And how easily he could've given up.
But he didn't.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Thursday, June 8, 2017
Snippets and Stories: (I) Normality
"Hm." Shir hummed, glancing up at Neskyii who was floating beside them. They waited patiently for the self-proclaimed artist and writer to speak.
They thought over their words carefully. Neskyii was apt to judge after all, wording it so there were no misunderstandings would be best.
"I'm not the fastest, the smartest, or the strongest."
"So you're nothing." Came the taunting reply.
"Hah!" Shir laughed, grinning as their eyes slipped shut, "Well, I'm not the weakest either. A half glass, if you will."
Neskyii crossed his arms and leaned low besides the office chair the other occupied, "It would be better were it empty."
"How so?"
"For one you could gain disability benefits. Your sight is defunct, is it not?"
"Hmmm." Shir hummed again, thoughtful, "But I am not truly blind. And I rather like it that way."
They turned to peer over their shoulder at Neskyii, "Besides, I'm happy as is."
"Are you truly?"
Shir laughed, a jovial and merry sound that echoed warmly with the pleasant warmth of the sunlight streaming in between the window blinds, "Would it make a difference?"
"No."
They smiled, "Well there you go. Don't ask pointless questions." He chided.
But the shade smirked, lips curved in a mock of a smile, "Far be it my nature for frivolousness. I had thought only to show the courtesy of the guest that I am."
"Oh?" Brown eyes regarded him warmly, a smile never far.
"They are but the questions you wish to hear, that you could better understand and justify yourself."
"How kind of you to indulge me." And Shir bowed their head, their gratitude.
Neskyii sneered and stepped back, straightening up and relaxing his posture, "Indeed. Be grateful."
"Oh, I am."
Satisfied, the entity nodded, and dissipated, sated for the Time being.
Monday, May 29, 2017
Story Analysis: Insanity
Shir is a nickname and short for Shiralin Sonder, an imperfect rendition and fragmentary self-insert.
Simply put, the mentality of others and how utterly crazed they may seem in the day to day matters that come and go. Such are the hype trains of life, a majority of which are beyond understanding. So while Shir sits and patiently listens to their raving, do we take insight and ponder who it is that is truly mad.
Shir deigns the world insane, and in doing so qustions their own.
For when everyone else around you is so utterly certain, is it truly them who is deranged and you who is grounded?
For when everyone else around you is so utterly certain, is it truly them who is deranged and you who is grounded?
Snippets and Stories (I): Kill La Kill
It was the usual mundanity.
Shir sat at their desk and tapping away at the keys. They were a writer true, or so they oft liked to pretend. It was a fun hobby.
Just then several alleged friends came bursting through the doorway, and the brunette flinched at the sharp slam as the door collided harshly with the wall.
"Guys what--"
They knew that Shir loathed to be interrupted in the middle of spinning yarn. It was nothing short of irritating and the practicing writer was more than slightly irked.
"Shir! You gotta watch this new anime, it's called Kill La Kill and it is the BEST. THING. EVER."
Shir sat at their desk and tapping away at the keys. They were a writer true, or so they oft liked to pretend. It was a fun hobby.
Just then several alleged friends came bursting through the doorway, and the brunette flinched at the sharp slam as the door collided harshly with the wall.
"Guys what--"
They knew that Shir loathed to be interrupted in the middle of spinning yarn. It was nothing short of irritating and the practicing writer was more than slightly irked.
"Shir! You gotta watch this new anime, it's called Kill La Kill and it is the BEST. THING. EVER."
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Snippets and Stories: (A) Provocation (4 of ?)
He'd known this would happen the moment he fought back.
The disgust, the fear.
He wasn't even an Enhanced, just an attendee there because of his biological potential, as was mandatory by law for one born of Enhanced parentage. Unlike others of his lineage though, he bore no signs of such qualities. Still they wouldn't release him until another 4 seasons had passed and they were certain.
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Snippet and Stories: (Freelance Shorts) A Whale of a Tail
A Whale of a Tail
Written for and inspired by the little amigurumi Whale Blimp mobile project.
This little Blue whale is called Wei-Wen, but don’t be fooled, they’re anything but drowning in sorrows!
Come high-tide or low, you can find them dolphin’ into new waters. They may not have grand plans to orca-strate, but they’ve got porpoise, and finship true! For they’ve a heart as big as a whale’s!
One day they breached the waters they love. And saw what other, than another sea up above!
Written for and inspired by the little amigurumi Whale Blimp mobile project.
This little Blue whale is called Wei-Wen, but don’t be fooled, they’re anything but drowning in sorrows!
Come high-tide or low, you can find them dolphin’ into new waters. They may not have grand plans to orca-strate, but they’ve got porpoise, and finship true! For they’ve a heart as big as a whale’s!
One day they breached the waters they love. And saw what other, than another sea up above!
Waving their fins and tail alike,
A whale song's beginning, inspiration's strike.
"What is that sea,
that I never did see?"
A songbird who fancied the blue expanse flew by and heard their fervent whales. They told them then, where that sea did hail.
"It is the sky,
that's so very high.
One must fly,
to go up high!"
So little Wei decided to fly.
"What is that sea,
that I never did see?"
A songbird who fancied the blue expanse flew by and heard their fervent whales. They told them then, where that sea did hail.
"It is the sky,
that's so very high.
One must fly,
to go up high!"
So little Wei decided to fly.
And with words to part, spoke their good-bye.
But the songbird flitted and chirped at length,
Already certain, it was of wasted strength.
They twittered and fretted, but to no avail.
For undeterred, was the little blue whale.
But the songbird lamented.
"Alas, mine feathered kin swims not the ocean's depths."
"Our limitations are there, or it may be our last breaths."
They spoke at long last,
But the songbird flitted and chirped at length,
Already certain, it was of wasted strength.
So the little whale stayed, that he would hear their say.
For to heed such advice, helps day to day.
They twittered and fretted, but to no avail.
For undeterred, was the little blue whale.
But the songbird lamented.
And failure he hinted.
"Our limitations are there, or it may be our last breaths."
They spoke at long last,
In words of solemn past.
"Any more,
than any whale could soar."
They flittered to, with a forlorn glance,
"Any more,
than any whale could soar."
They flittered to, with a forlorn glance,
And begged, that they not take the chance.
"Though swim you do and fly do I, birds we are, of a feather,
You seek the sky, and I the sea, though soar we do, in different weather."
"The Songs we both sing,
That our souls take on wing.
But waters blue were meant for gills,
We heed currants of wind, us with bills.
As the space betwixt star and cloud,
are for the feathered, not finned--is that not sound?"
But Wei-Wun spread his fins,
"Little I may be, but not what I've seen.
Limitations you say, I know not what you mean!
They would show them flight,
come what might.
With a flip of their flipper, a push of their tail, and soar they did, an arc in the sky!
And did the little whale sing.
"You say, 'Gilled are we, those born of the sea',
But the penguins are not, do you not see?
You'll find neither mine-self, bears such anatomy,
For the world isn't so built, in such monotony!
You need not gills, to swim in water.
You need but only, must not falter!"
A breath did Little Wei take, and blow he did, of bubbles thick, to shroud the little songbird that he too may take.
And into the seas they dove,
to see but the world below.
For they knew, one can never be certain what one can and can't do. If one never did try, then one never could know!
That there was always a Wei, if one would but try!
You seek the sky, and I the sea, though soar we do, in different weather."
The little whale paused, but remained steadfast,
For they knew but so little, and the world so vast!
"The Songs we both sing,
That our souls take on wing.
But waters blue were meant for gills,
We heed currants of wind, us with bills.
As the space betwixt star and cloud,
are for the feathered, not finned--is that not sound?"
As did the songbird with his.
For seeing this did the songbird resign, that the little whale was determined true.
And did Little Wei-Wun turn to the songbird.
And implored him to open, to the words he so heard.
And did Little Wei-Wun turn to the songbird.
And implored him to open, to the words he so heard.
"Little I may be, but not what I've seen.
Limitations you say, I know not what you mean!
They would show them flight,
come what might.
With a flip of their flipper, a push of their tail, and soar they did, an arc in the sky!
And did the little whale sing.
But the penguins are not, do you not see?
You'll find neither mine-self, bears such anatomy,
For the world isn't so built, in such monotony!
You need not gills, to swim in water.
You need but only, must not falter!"
A breath did Little Wei take, and blow he did, of bubbles thick, to shroud the little songbird that he too may take.
And into the seas they dove,
to see but the world below.
For they knew, one can never be certain what one can and can't do. If one never did try, then one never could know!
That there was always a Wei, if one would but try!
Try, try, and try again!
It matters not if you’re crabby, or what storm hangs over your head. Whether it be g-reef you're lost in, or when you start questioning your scales.
It matters not if you’re crabby, or what storm hangs over your head. Whether it be g-reef you're lost in, or when you start questioning your scales.
No matter if you've lost sight of your chartered course, forgotten the sight of the stars and can't navigate your way out. Even if your moray-eel compass charters not to true North, never will Wei-Wun turn tail.
There's no need to bluff for this cetacean.
For this little whale knows the Wei Wen things go wrong. If you’ve made a fluke, just remember, they’re made of two!
Take a ride in their basket! For with a twirl and whorl, shell whisk you away. Above the petty corals and brewing storms, a hot air baleen up high in the sky. To feel the sea breeze, and see how small everything to truly be.
And shell tail you the secret to baleen-cing life, “If the tides are turning, if you’ve lost your way, never fret, never fear! Just go with the flow, and throw me a line! For Wen in need, you reel-ly but need, only look for the Wei.”
Things will a-bait, you'll sea, and kelp may be right there beside you. For your friends will stand ever with you, to cheer you on, come storm or rain, hell or high water!
P.s. Their crush is the Humpback of Notre Dame. But shy Little Wei will remain an admirer from far, for to even hold their fin would clam them up and turn their blue pink! A bit of a turtle to overcome, to say the least!
Take a ride in their basket! For with a twirl and whorl, shell whisk you away. Above the petty corals and brewing storms, a hot air baleen up high in the sky. To feel the sea breeze, and see how small everything to truly be.
Sonar-y should you worry, just listen in calm. Shell tell you a tail, and sing you a song! Such a shoal would it be, to give the sole succor! Of distant skies, so very high, and stormy seas of blustery blues.
Just as one may scoff and say through grit teeth, "A flying whale, quite a stretch of beach!" But such are but grit, sand on a beach. Don't let their harpoon diminish you.
And shell tail you the secret to baleen-cing life, “If the tides are turning, if you’ve lost your way, never fret, never fear! Just go with the flow, and throw me a line! For Wen in need, you reel-ly but need, only look for the Wei.”
Things will a-bait, you'll sea, and kelp may be right there beside you. For your friends will stand ever with you, to cheer you on, come storm or rain, hell or high water!
P.s. Their crush is the Humpback of Notre Dame. But shy Little Wei will remain an admirer from far, for to even hold their fin would clam them up and turn their blue pink! A bit of a turtle to overcome, to say the least!
Poem: At CrossRoads
At CrossRoads
We’ve been the best of friends, in times of thick and thin.
In stormy clouds and seas, you’ve sailed alongside me.
Under the Mulberry tree we played.
I couldn’t imagine that someone like you would just waltz in
to my life.
The times we had together, the memories we shared.
Things are changing, but maybe we’ll see each other again.
I’m leaving soon, and so are you. Will you be back when I am?
There’s no time now. I have to leave, will you see me off like you always did?
But of course you have your own road to walk
It’s a pity my stop’s not on the way.
But maybe we’ll see each other down the road, if they cross.
Would you be willing to cross the street if you saw me on the other side?
Between us are cars that will never stop. Everyone’s on their own path now.
But I still remember, do you?
The sunshine between leaves that flutter with our laughter.
There’s time. We’ll make it somehow.
I know we will.
You were always one to sing with me.
You were always there.
Until you weren’t.
But beside me on the empty swing, if I close my eyes, I can almost see your shadow, and hear your laughter.
Before me was a shadow, I was never alone, but sometimes I still wish, it wasn’t only me.
The leaves rustle, but there’s only one voice now.
When I heard you were coming back, I rushed to see you.
You were there, and I shouldn’t complain, but I missed too much.
It was like seeing you for the first time. Again.
Do you still remember me?
Of course you don’t. But I do.
So I introduce myself again, and you smile that same smile that you always had.
When and if I tell you that we’ve met before, it will be when that smile becomes genuine.
And when I tell you, I hope it’ll be like it always was.
When you held me. And I held you.
Because I forgot to tell you
When we were still children
That I love you.
And I still do.
Afterword
My childhood best friend and I were always together. Through our differences, through our disagreeableness, we were friends. To my oddities she accepted, and to my whims she laughed and danced, indulgent. And so one night when she admitted unto me the secret she so feared, and I could do little more but hold her hand, did I despair.
Would that it had been enough.
Through the romanticized surety of our everlasting friendship I had returned, but not soon enough. When we met again things had changed, for better or worse, and I realized then it was Time to let go.
To let go of the friend I had known since my tender years, had wished to continue knowing.
But it was no longer mutual. Would that she smile with me as she did then and fill the air with merry laughter once more, but such is buried in the past and at the least, I have the memories true.
Though she no longer loves me, has my heart bled red for her, platonic though my affections may be, my love for her is no less true.
We’ve been the best of friends, in times of thick and thin.
In stormy clouds and seas, you’ve sailed alongside me.
Under the Mulberry tree we played.
I couldn’t imagine that someone like you would just waltz in
to my life.
The times we had together, the memories we shared.
Things are changing, but maybe we’ll see each other again.
I’m leaving soon, and so are you. Will you be back when I am?
There’s no time now. I have to leave, will you see me off like you always did?
But of course you have your own road to walk
It’s a pity my stop’s not on the way.
But maybe we’ll see each other down the road, if they cross.
Would you be willing to cross the street if you saw me on the other side?
Between us are cars that will never stop. Everyone’s on their own path now.
But I still remember, do you?
The sunshine between leaves that flutter with our laughter.
There’s time. We’ll make it somehow.
I know we will.
You were always one to sing with me.
You were always there.
Until you weren’t.
But beside me on the empty swing, if I close my eyes, I can almost see your shadow, and hear your laughter.
Before me was a shadow, I was never alone, but sometimes I still wish, it wasn’t only me.
The leaves rustle, but there’s only one voice now.
When I heard you were coming back, I rushed to see you.
You were there, and I shouldn’t complain, but I missed too much.
It was like seeing you for the first time. Again.
Do you still remember me?
Of course you don’t. But I do.
So I introduce myself again, and you smile that same smile that you always had.
When and if I tell you that we’ve met before, it will be when that smile becomes genuine.
And when I tell you, I hope it’ll be like it always was.
When you held me. And I held you.
Because I forgot to tell you
When we were still children
That I love you.
And I still do.
Afterword
My childhood best friend and I were always together. Through our differences, through our disagreeableness, we were friends. To my oddities she accepted, and to my whims she laughed and danced, indulgent. And so one night when she admitted unto me the secret she so feared, and I could do little more but hold her hand, did I despair.
Would that it had been enough.
Through the romanticized surety of our everlasting friendship I had returned, but not soon enough. When we met again things had changed, for better or worse, and I realized then it was Time to let go.
To let go of the friend I had known since my tender years, had wished to continue knowing.
But it was no longer mutual. Would that she smile with me as she did then and fill the air with merry laughter once more, but such is buried in the past and at the least, I have the memories true.
Though she no longer loves me, has my heart bled red for her, platonic though my affections may be, my love for her is no less true.
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