Oh. My. Heavens.
That is really really good, and i reread it like twice because in some ways, it's kind of dark. But that's one of the best explanations of MPD I've ever read. I know what it is, but this, this is a much deeper understanding of the disorder I now have.
Thank you. I don't write poetry often, so this was new for me.
All right first of all can we give a huge thank you to @amber_demeter for hosting last week? The critiques and prompts were on time and point and just overall it was fabulous!!
(I've been busy with Essay Hell Week so I'm extra grateful!! I don't think we would have had prompts last week otherwise)
Now on to business: I've read through all of the things y'all have posted for this week and I love them! Thank you to everyone who posted something and real feedback is on the way I promise
this week's prompts:
music: "Men of the Death Star/ Vader's Lament" by Lucas King
image: "Koi Pond" by Haylee Morice:
word prompt: "A Coat" by William Butler Yeats
I made my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But the fools caught it,
Wore it in the world's eyes
As though they'd wrought it.
Song, let them take it,
For there's more enterprise
In walking naked.
Oh. My. Heavens.
That is really really good, and i reread it like twice because in some ways, it's kind of dark. But that's one of the best explanations of MPD I've ever read. I know what it is, but this, this is a much deeper understanding of the disorder I now have.
Izzy, if you don’t mind me asking, Grace is your other personality right?
Okay. How to respond?
I understand now that my previous user (izzyandgrace) might have been a bit confusing. Gah, I'm struggling to figure out how to explain this without being weird.
I guess I could start out by explaining how I first came up with the alias Izzy. I created my very first OC for an rp, and I think it wasn't on this site, and I was very enthusiastic about her, and used her in almost every rp I possibly could. Fast forward a couple of years, and I went through the alias Alice for awhile, and then I adopted the alias Izzy. Now, go back a year or two, to when I decided Izzy needed a friend. I created Grace, Izzy's best friend. So in short, no, Grace isn't my other personality, but Izzy and Grace will always hold a special place in my heart, because they were the very first OCs I ever made.
So, as far as I can tell, I have at least 3 personalities.
I only have names for 2, though. The one that shows up most often is Michael. The other 2 are Jen and Kristi.
But technically Amber, I do have an alternate personality - my irl one whose name I won't reveal because the name of that one is my irl name, and Izzy is my online one. Tbh I'm more myself when I'm online, Idk why.
(don't mind me, this is just the feedback from last week)
@crocssant-is-tired (first off, can I just say that this is a weird essay question to begin with?? How are you supposed to academically argue something vague and personal like that??)
anyway it's a super cool poem prompt because the poem was fabulous. Utterly fabulous. Really, really powerful imagery and I loved the recurring colour theme!!
I will say that some of it seemed a bit disjointed because I didn't know the full backstory behind everything, but that actually really adds to it, especially when everything is assigned a colour and I can sort of watch it come together in my head if that makes sense.
soooo
yeah
thank you for sharing!
@izzyandviolins-is-dying-at-school Whoa, that was really cool!! Very visceral and unnerving. You set up a really intense atmosphere and maintained a strong tension throughout.
First thing I noticed is that you jump back and forth between past and present tense (in the beginning, the narrator "looked out" of the window but then her memories "are" coming back etc). I recommend looking over it again and picking one tense to stick with consistently.
I also have to say I'm not fully sure what's going on in the latter half of the story? What's the titular "dangerous secret" that Cory knows? Where did Alice Three-Times come from (fun reference though - I just finished the book the other day and I can definitely see the inspiration!!)? What does Cory do to her, why doesn't Lyra die? There are a lot of open questions, and while those are essential to a good story so the reader has something to think about, in this case I think it's a bit excessive. There's a fine line between keeping the reader engaged and keeping the reader confused, and I'd say I'm more confused overall.
Overall, it's a super creative, super intense story that made me think a lot, but I'd definitely recommend looking over it again and editing it a bit. Thank you for sharing it!!
@chaos_generator_13 That's such a vivid description and a really cool use of language!! It sounds incredibly terrifying and unnerving, and you've expressed it really well.
Small thing I noticed is probably just an autocorrect programme or something, but you sometimes use "it's" instead of "its". (its presence, its black embrace, etc).
but yeah
thank you for sharing!
Cool cool, yeah I'll definitely look over it once more! Ty!
it was a really weird prompt, but it made a bit more sense when factored into what we had been doing in that class for two weeks. the clunkiness makes sense, especially bcs it's really hard to tell that i'm referencing sources that are sited in the doc in places. overall, i'm kinda proud of it as a bullshit attempt at making up for not writing my essay, and i appreciate the compliments so much!!
here you guys go! again, late, but i've finally gotten it done!
Once, I told off the boy behind me in algebra
Not with that many words
I did not write him a poem and recite it right there but my words
I feel carried the venom of a very specific type of poem
One I wrote one time too many and one
That I know all too well but I did not
Write this boy a poem.
I barked a quick word
Or two and that was the extent of it but the sickness in my veins
Felt so powerful and so horrible
I do not like feeling like that
Holding something so harsh in the palm of my hand and wielding it like a weapon
I am no warrior of words
Not that kind at least
Once, a boy told me I had pretty eyes
And I have never felt so vulnerable sitting there
As he described them
They call eyes the windows to the soul and what do mine say about me
Do they map out every twisted thought or do they show
The way that boy’s smile makes me warm
Makes me feel more perfectly imperfect than
I’ve ever been, knowing
That I can draw something so beautiful to his face
Like a witch casting a spell
And holding some great power in my hands
Feeling is one of my least favorite things but it feels worth it
Seeing that smile
Once, I traded in my knives for pens
For markers and sharpies and anything with enough ink
To cover my skin
I drew flowers so thick and clustered together that they were all you could see
And when I looked at my arms I did not think ‘blood’
I thought ‘these don’t deserve to die’
And maybe someday I’ll think the same thing of myself
I covered my arms in so many swirling colors I looked more like a children’s coloring book than a person
But it helped.
I couldn’t bring myself to mar something I had too much respect for
If you had told me when I was younger that I would be
So far down a rabbit hole in my own mind that the only way out
Was to trick myself
To pull a fast one on my own mind and manipulate my brain
I would laugh
But now I can’t really laugh anymore
Just fake it so well that even I believe I’m happy
Maybe the flowers will help
I hope they help
I want to see beauty in everything again, someday
Not just in the ink on my arms
Once, I put a staple in my arm because I wanted to know how it felt
I have a minor addiction to getting things pierced.
Society looks at piercings and thinks ‘troublemaker’
Thinks ‘danger’
And I have always wanted to be dangerous
I want society to look at me and think troublemaker
Danger and harsh lines
Uncaring and unfeeling when it comes to pain
A buddhist monk so good at breathing, so good at withdrawing that someday pain
Will be about as real as the voices in my head.
Maybe
I can forget that pain exists
Once, I thought I was a god
I was young and invincible in the face of anything
I was immortal
When the world fell apart in flames around me I was untouched
Right up until I wasn’t.
Once, I realized I was only human.
I realized that I was not, in fact, immortal.
I was as much flesh and bone as the people around me
But while I realized I was human
I realized that I was still powerful as such
That mortality did not make me any less invincible
At least not in any way I couldn’t work around
Once, I realized that the world was still at my fingertips
Even as I fell apart
And all I had to do was reach out
LOVE IT
@crocssant-is-tired I LOVE THIS OH MY GOODNESS
the themes??? the imagery??? the linebreaks?? ON. POINT. It feels very deliberate and tired but also hopeful, I can't really put my finger on the specific mood I'm getting but I love it
Favourite line: "Feeling is one of my least favorite things but it feels worth it"
(but also the way the lines are separated in that stanza?? ooof that's so beautiful to read)
(anyway I'm gushing and I honestly don't know how to critique this haha)
Sometimes I'm not sure how the different aspects connect, or the overarching "thing" that it's about (though it seems like it's all building up to the last stanza) but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
hm
anyway
Thank you so much for sharing!!
Gjgagakga I wrote it VERY late at night and I had a lot of words to write bcs my mind was like ‘u need to get this down bitch’ so I’m surprised it makes the amount of sense that it does. I’m so glad you like it though! It does seem kind of scatterbrained, but honestly, when are my poems not
aaaaand this week's prompts before I forget:
music: Battle of Hogwarts by Alexandre Desplat
image: sunset in the slums by Rostyslav Zagornov
and the word prompt, The Debt by Paul Laurence Dunbar
enters with a dramatic and definitely shadowy flair after a long and mostly inexcusable hiatus
I'm back, and this time with something different yet again. This is an excerpt from a book I'm planning on writing. Literally every aspect of this story is out of my storytelling comfort zone, so this is going to be a fun one. I'm aware this could've been executed better, but I just had to get this out before I went to sleep. Enjoy, I guess.
The stars have always been beautiful. They coated the sky in their winking and shining eyes, clustering together in families to form pictures and patterns. He’s always loved the stars for as long as he could remember. Perhaps it was his connection to the night sky, or perhaps it was the beauty of the lights that protected the world from eternal darkness. Maybe it was the comfort and serenity he felt when he gazed up at them, or the moon glowing bright, embracing him in her pale radiance. Whatever the reason, he could never get enough.
Aris sat down on the soft grass with a happy sigh, falling back and tucking his hands behind his head. He would lie there all night if he could, but alas, there was a psycho murderer out there looking for him, and he couldn’t afford to risk his life for the stars.
His lips turned up in a happy smile when he felt that particular presence, his head tipping back and brushing against the earth to look behind him. There sat a fluffy and chocolate brown cat, tail curled around its paws as it waited patiently. Aris’s eyes of crystal blue met its eyes, the irises a beautiful gradient of light to dark green. He didn’t need to say anything for it to stand up and prance over to him, cheerfully hopping up onto his chest and curling up there. Aris thoughtlessly petted the furball on his chest as he went back to staring at the sky, finding his favorite constellations with small hums of satisfaction.
Aris didn’t know how long he had been scanning the night sky. He had become lost in his imagination, oblivious to anything happening around him. He had the lights above him, gracing his features with soft highlights, the delicate grass below him, tickling his cheeks and skin.
In a blink, that all changed.
Eyes of green hovered above him, and then a face solidified in Aris’s vision as he blinked. Fluffy chocolate brown hair full of soft curls fell into those beautiful eyes, which were shaped like a cat’s and framed with thick lashes. A face with rounded and soft features, very faint freckles dusting those curved cheekbones and button nose, a defined but not sharp jawline, those damn dimples that appeared even without that devilish smile; semi-visible neck tendons stood out with the slight strain, enunciating that small but visible adam’s apple.
Aris glanced down at the ground next to his head, where those smallish hands with knobby knuckles pressed into the ground, up to the thin wrists; followed the light brown arm to that small and thin, but lithe, body above him, then traveled back to that face—that face that was so very close to his.
His heart pounded in his chest and his eyes widened with panic. He didn’t know what to do or what to feel, but all he knew was that this boy was far too close and he needed space.
“Ryker! Get the fuck off of me!” Aris shoved at the boy above him, angry and confused and frustrated and stressed. Ryker didn’t complain as he was pushed off and fell to the ground next to Aris, his lips simply turning down in a disappointed but not surprised frown. Aris quickly got to his feet, a hand running through his short blonde hair and tugging at it. After a few seconds, he turned to the smaller boy—who was a good 7 inches shorter than Aris at 5’4. “What the Hell is your problem? I fucking told you, I’m not-”
“Gay?” Ryker finished with an unimpressed look, sitting cross-legged with his arms crossed as he watched Aris pace back and forth. “Maybe. Maybe not. I saw you checking me out, though.” He smirked slyly, that forever flirtatious personality that just pissed Aris off even more.
He stalked over to Ryker and picked him up by the back of his shirt, the boy allowing himself to be handled without batting an eye, and bent down enough so they were somewhat eye-to-eye. “I wasn’t, and I suggest you leave it as that. I’m tired of you and your games, Ryker! When are you going to learn to take a fucking hint and leave me the fuck alone? You just plow right on through life like there’s nothing wrong with you and the world, and then you bulldoze your way into other people’s lives without any consideration as to if they want you or not! Get it through your thick skull.” Aris let go of Ryker but didn’t back off, his anger clear in his eyes and tense body language. “I. Don’t. Want. You. Period. Never. Not as a friend, not as whatever fucked up fantasies you have in that twisted mind of yours. Let it go and leave me be, before I hand you to that psycho as a peace offering.”
Ryker seemed to hear what the taller boy was saying because his face melted in sadness and cruel realization. His lips parted and his eyes widened as they stared up at Aris’s face, searching for something that was likely not there.
Without another word, Aris stalked away, shaking. He wasn’t even the target of his own words and they stung. He knew—he knew damn well—that what he had said was unfair and uncalled for. Ryker was an adoption kid. Aris saying that he wasn’t wanted was like a blow to the face for the poor boy, and his heart twisted at his own callousness.
But what’s done is done, and there was too much swirling through Aris’s mind for him to turn around and apologize to Ryker. Even the stars couldn’t ease these burdens.
~~~
Three days.
It’s been three days since Ryker and Aris have spoken last.
It’s been three days since Aris has last seen Ryker.
Three days since Aris verbally slapped Ryker in the face.
He couldn’t take it.
He needed to see that cheeky motherfucker.
But how?
Aris sighed and sat on the edge of the cliff, the cliff he always sat at to look at the night sky. Tonight, the stars were silent. Disappointed. So was he. He had regretted his words almost instantaneously, but he couldn’t take them back. What was he supposed to do? Ryker hasn’t come out of his room since that night, not even to nose his way into the case.
The cat didn’t come tonight. Of course it didn’t, because it was Ryker. How didn’t he see that coming? He’s been bonding with that damn cat for weeks now, and he never put two and two together. Leave it to Ryker to make the first move.
No.
Aris stood up and let his feet take him to the sheriff’s station, which had the sheriff’s home right above it.
Ryker wasn’t going to be the one to pull Aris into this thing they had between them.
Not this time.
Aris had a responsibility to fulfill. This was his screw-up, this was his mess. He was the one to fix it.
The walk didn’t take long, probably because he had jogged the second half, and soon he found himself at the door leading to Ryker’s bedroom. He barely remembered his adoptive mother letting him into the house, but that had apparently happened. Now this was reality—his galloping heart told him so.
He knocked on the door and heard a slight ruffle of blankets, then the soft patter of feet on carpet. The door opened, and once again Aris had no choice but to admire that beautiful face that stared up at him, the softness of it hiding the hidden thoughts that were far from innocent and happy.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, reaching up to tap his neck in time with his pulse. “I never-I shouldn’t have said any of that to you.” He sighed and ran both of his hands through his hair. “I miss you, goddammit. I don’t know why, but I do. And I-” he sighed, then froze when those adorably small fingers hooked around the collar of his shirt and tugged him into the room. Ryker didn’t say anything, for once, so Aris thought to continue as he numbly shut the door behind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing, with you or the murders or with my life—nothing. I’m scared and confused, but you’re an unplanned thing that showed up out of nowhere that I don’t want to lose, surprisingly and sadly.”
Ryker’s lips quirked up slightly, still dragging Aris back until his legs hit the bed. The smaller boy let go of Aris to crawl onto the bed, then reached out and tugged at the taller boy’s shirt. Aris didn’t say anything more as he followed suit, moving over Ryker as the boy laid back onto the bed, guiding Aris over him. Only when their faces were parallel did Aris speak again, his eyes scanning Ryker’s face. “I was wrong when I said I didn’t want you,” he whispered, “and that’s probably the scariest thing.”
Ryker smirked at that, reaching up to brush his fingers over the taller boy’s face. “Scarier than a murderer?” he whispered with humor.
Aris stuck his tongue out at the boy below him, though was quick to retract it when Ryker made as if to nip at it. “Yes. That I can deal with. You, I can’t.”
Ryker hummed with that trademark shit-eating smirk of his, then slid his hand up to cup the back of Aris’s neck, bringing him closer until their lips were a hair’s breadth apart. “You love it.” He didn’t allow Aris to say anything before he tipped his head up, pressing their lips together.
They fit so well.
It was as if they were molded for each other’s lips, the silky pink skin gliding over each other and getting caught between teeth. Breaths mingled and words were lost to the wind. Again and again, they came back for more, hungry and eager for more of what they tasted.
Aris was the first to break it off, pushing himself up and further away from the tiny and smiling devil beneath him. “Maybe,” he finally answered, slightly breathless though a smile ghosted over his lips, his tongue flicking out as if he could taste Ryker still.
The smaller boy gave Aris a minute to process before tugging him down again, letting their lips brush without actually kissing him. He knew there was one last thing Aris had to say. Knew what the whispered words were going to be.
“I didn’t mean any of it.”
He also knew what he was going to say.
“I know. I was letting you come to me.”
Aris’s blue eyes flashed with realization and surprise, then he shook his head with a breathy laugh. “Always the manipulative one, aren’t you?” Aris had said numerous times that he would never seek out Ryker as the boy sought out Aris on a daily basis, and then that night claimed to not want him.
Now look at him.
Ryker grinned and pulled Aris closer, murmuring against his lips, “You love it.”
This time, Aris didn’t bother to deny it.
“I do.”
gshdjksljdhg tHERE THEY ARE. MY BOYS.
I also have to say I'm not fully sure what's going on in the latter half of the story? What's the titular "dangerous secret" that Cory knows? Where did Alice Three-Times come from (fun reference though - I just finished the book the other day and I can definitely see the inspiration!!)? What does Cory do to her, why doesn't Lyra die? There are a lot of open questions, and while those are essential to a good story so the reader has something to think about, in this case I think it's a bit excessive. There's a fine line between keeping the reader engaged and keeping the reader confused, and I'd say I'm more confused overall.
Alice Three-Times from The Hazel Wood? I love that book!!!
Yeah!!
Not based on the prompts. I wrote this like a month ago and would love some feedback.
(Prompt: https://promptuarium.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/area51.png )
(Ikarus: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/35/70/5e/35705eb90cfe299ef153220e49435638.jpg )
“Sir! Sir I…this is a level 0, sir.” the soldier said. He was streaked with blood, and pale. Too pale to be healthy. “Orders from Washington. It’s a zero, sir.”
The general nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he saw the camera feeds from around the base. “Understood.” he walked to the console, limping heavily. “How many do we have left?” he asked the soldier.
The dark haired soldier was swaying, and looked like he was having trouble staying upright. “Ten to twenty, sir.”
The general swallowed. “Okay.” he picked up the sticky note that had been stuck to the console by the phone for longer than he knew. “Soldier?”
“Yes sir?”
“Once I’ve made the call, bring the men back here. We’ll barricade ourselves in this room.” his voice was heavy as he dialed the number that every director of this base prayed they would never have to.
“Sir?” the soldier was startled, but his voice was faint.
“You heard me. And put pressure on those wounds of yours, we don’t want you bleeding out.” he said, and he lifted the phone to his ear. It was picked up after three rings.
“So, you need my help. I told you you would.”
~~~
The base was covered in blood. It dripped from the ceilings, oozed down the walls, and stuck to his brand new boots. The halls were eerily quiet, too, which anyone else but he would have found disconcerting. He adjusted his gloves, then adjusted the mask covering his nose and mouth. There was a tacky sticking noise with each step he took, from the blood sticking to his boots. There were bodies strewn across the hallways as if they had been tossed like rag dolls, sitting lifeless, limbs contorted, at odd angles, or missing entirely. The whole area reeked of death and the coppery scent of blood, mixed with an odd sort of musky scent he had only scented in a few places.
He was heading for the command room. For the place the general had called him from. He doubted any of the humans had been left alive, but even so, it was the best place to look for the creatures he hunted.
He slipped around the corner, and found there was no one waiting at the command rooms doors. The door was sealed shut, and he knocked twice, then waited.
“Who’s there?” a wary, cracking, exhausted voice called.
Good. There was at least someone left alive.
“Ikarus.” the man replied. “I was called for.” his voice was cold, detached. He cared nothing for these stupid, insipid Humans, but it was better to get their feedback, their account, of what exactly had happened.
The door was slowly opened, and he stepped inside, slowly and deliberately looking around the room. There were ten men, all injured. One lay on the ground, another man crouched near him, attempting to treat wounds.
“Ikarus.” said one man. The man was tall and grizzled, and when he walked to Ikarus he walked with a heavy limp. “Thank god.”
Ikarus’s mouth twisted in a feral, strange grin. “If you wish. What happened?” Ikarus raked a hand through his messy black hair, eyes glittering.
The man swallowed. “The Aliens…and the experiments…they joined together and, well…attacked.” his throat worked. “We lost…this base started out manned by over 500 men. We here are all that is left.”
Ikarus refrained from laughter. It would only antagonize these men. They had locked up members of the Shin’Zhana, and had expected to remain unharmed? Idiots, all. “I see. By “aliens” you mean the Shin’Zhana? And who or what are the experiments?”
“I…yes, I suppose the Shin’Zhana. The experiments were…” the man, the general trailed off.
“Classified?” Ikarus arched a black eyebrow. “Come now, general. Just tell me.”
“They, ah…they were experiments in combining human DNA with that of the Shin’Zhana. They were highly volatile, and dangerous. Most were insane and violent, prone to outbreaks where they would try to kill anyone who so much as looked at them.” the general said.
Ikarus tried-and failed-to keep from laughing. His laughter rang across the room in a sharp peal. “You stupid humans! You stupid, stupid imbeciles!” he said, still laughing, shaking his head.
The general bristled, and some of the soldiers fingered their weapons.
Ikarus raised a hand, and the guns all pointed down at the floor. “Don’t even try it.” he growled to the soldiers, then looked back at the general. “You made, hang on, hang on, I’m trying to understand the absolute depths of your stupidity, you made people using Shin’Zhana DNA, and Human DNA? Do you-do you realize that had your race met the Shin’Zhana in any other circumstances, you would have been best friends as a race? Violent, rather stupid, and prone to fighting?” he was still laughing. The arrogance of these humans.
The general worked his jaw. “Ikarus. Focus. I don’t care.”
Ikarus swallowed his laughter. “Basically, you combined two war races, and expected…what? What did you expect to happen?”
The general pressed his lips in a thin line. “Can we move on? What are you going to do?”
Ikarus crossed his arms lightly. “Fine. What happened?”
“They…we aren’t sure.” said the general slowly, clearing his throat. “All we know is that they got out of their cells, and attacked. With…catastrophic effects.”
“Where are they now?” Ikarus demanded.
The general shifted nervously. “In the building. We have heat signatures on them, but the cameras are now down in most areas. They haven’t left, though. We know that much.”
Ikarus nodded. “Good.” he paused for a moment, thinking. “Now…what about this situation made you call me?”
“We…can’t defeat them on our own. Like I said earlier, we started out with over 500 men, and now there are only ten of us left.” the general said, his jaw working.
Ikarus’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “And? You could have called for reinforcements from somewhere else. Or evacuated and bombed the base.”
The general hesitated. “We could have, but…”
"But?”
"This base has nuclear systems. A bomb would destabilize it and cause a catastrophe. And, well…we believe that’s where the experiments and the aliens will focus their efforts. On the nuclear systems.” the general said, blowing out a breath.
Ikarus swore. “By all the stars! You humans have got to be one of the most idiotic species I have ever come across! Mixing nuclear technology and…” he threw up his hands. “Ugh!”
The general was quiet, and he became aware of all the soldiers watching him.
"Sir?” one soldier whispered, addressing the general.
"Yes?” the general said.
"Is he…is this guy really the most powerful being in the galaxy? Because he looks like a teenager…” the soldier was whispering. He probably thought that Ikarus couldn’t hear him.
Ikarus looked at the soldier. “In fact, I am the most powerful being in the universe, and you should thank your gods that I was available to help right now.”
The soldier nodded. “Oh. I uhm…sorry. I…”
Ikarus let a half smile creep over his features. “No apologies needed.” he turned back to the general. “So. You want me to what, exactly?”
"Wipe them out.” the general replied.
"In return, I get…?” Ikarus pretended to examine his nails. In truth, payment wasn’t really something that mattered, but…if he didn’t ask for payment, and a high price, too, then the humans would start calling for him on every little thing. Every little oh no, these dangerous prisoners escaped issue.
"Everything you asked for.” the general said through gritted teeth.
He chuckled. “For someone who desperately needs my help, you don’t seem very willing.” he shrugged, and headed for the door. “Oh. Someone give me a gun? One of those little pistol ones, not a big machine gun.” he turned back to the soldiers, and put his mask back on over his face.
One soldier handed him a pistol. “It’s fully loaded.”
He smiled slightly, and ejected the magazine, letting it clatter to the floor. “Don’t need bullets.”
"Is it just for looks, then?” the soldier asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shook his head, and waved a hand. A new magazine appeared in the gun, loaded with odd-looking bullets. “Nope.” he said, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
He walked through the hallways, ignoring the blood smeared everywhere, ignoring the corpses, both human and Shin’Zhana, that littered the ground. He took in a deep breath, and gagged slightly at the scent of blood and death that filled his sinuses. The lights overhead flickered and went out, and he sighed. After a moment, his hands light up, illuminating the hallways with a bright, golden light. He kept walking deeper into the bowels of the base.
He finally reached the room he knew the Shin’Zhana and experiments were in, and entered the room. There were shouts, some in English, some in the language of the Shin’Zhana, and bullets were fired at him. They ricocheted off his skin, not leaving a mark, and he held up a hand.
"Cease fire!” he roared, looking at each one in turn.
He saw some of the Shin’Zhana’s eyes widen as they recognized him for who and what he was, and the bullets soon stopped.
"Ikarus!” said one Shin’Zhana, stepping forward. “Have you-why are you here?”
He looked at the one that had spoken. “The human general summoned me here to kill you all.”
There were titters of fear that ran through the others, and he heard them whispering to each other.
"And will you do so, Ikarus?” the Shin’Zhana asked challengingly.
Ikarus shook his head, once. “No.”
"Why?” one of the experiments demanded. He had grey eyes and hair a brilliant blue. One hand was twisted and shriveled, useless. A birth defect. “If they brought you here to kill us, why aren’t you? And who the hell are you, anyway?”
Ikarus sighed softly. “I am Ikarus, the last remaining Guardian. It is my job to try and keep the various species from wiping each other out. I will not be killing you because they are in the wrong.”
The experiment spat on the ground. “Damn right they are. I, we, shouldn’t exist.” he lifted his chin. “Never even gave us names. I’m only C-107.”
Ikarus nodded. “I will be returning the Shin’Zhana to their own planet. Where would you experiments like to go?”
C-107 glared at him. “We can’t go anywhere, man. We don’t fit in. We ain’t human, we ain’t Shin’Zhana.”
Ikarus nodded again. “I know. I understand. However, if you stay here you will be slaughtered.”
C-107 said nothing.
"They may come home with us.” said the Shin’Zhana he had spoken to earlier. “We will ensure they will be accepted.”
Ikarus nodded. “Good. Then go, Shin’Zhanians, and go with honor.” he pressed a hand to their foreheads, and one by one, they each vanished in a streak of light, leaving him alone with only the bloodied bodies.
Ooooo Ice I like it! It's a bit choppy in some places, and I would really like to know some back story on some of the creatures and races, and what exactly a Guardian is, but it seems like it would be a great basis for a full fledged story!
This week's poem is a shorter one, because I've found myself lacking too much inspiration, but I did get it done! If it's a bit choppy, that's because I wrote half of it four days ago, and then finished today. Kinda doesn't bode well for a good flow, but I hope it's not too bad. Fun fact, this was inspired by something I read about the controversy of The Rainbow Fish and The Giving Tree being read to children, and how some children were so distraught over them that they were eventually banned. I remembered being not too fond of them myself as a kid, because they struck a cord I didn't understand then.
Somebody once called me the Rainbow Fish
Likened me to a creature
Who’s favorite bits of himself were pulled away one by one
Because he could not say no
I know it’s meant to be a compliment
‘You are selfless and caring’
But all I hear is
‘Give up everything you have for someone else’
To be kind and to be stupid are
Divided by a thin line
Doormats and fish with rainbow scales
Walk hand in hand with pioneers and champions of kindness
There’s a difference between
Not knowing when to say no and being convinced
That everything you are belongs to someone else
I am the Rainbow Fish
He was right
I have given up so much of me there’s nothing left
So much that I am not sure who I am anymore
If I even still hold a memory of the before
Be kind
Means be submissive
Means everything I have is up for grabs
‘You’re such a nice person!’
Hand off another scale
I’m not sure how many I have left but
Counting would surely be the opposite of being kind
Right?
I am the Giving Tree
I give away my apples and leaves
And bark
All the birds in my branches and the creatures I have given a home
The creatures that gave me a home
I give until I have nothing left to give
Until I am nothing but bone
I am the Giving Tree
But I am not a tree anymore
For what is a tree without everything that makes it a tree?
It is gone
Everything that made me me
Everything I had to give, I gave
And still I keep on giving
My roots are pulled from the ground and handed off like raffle tickets at a carnival
The prize is me
The prize is my being
Everything that I am is being raffled off because it’s not enough for me to give
Everything away
It will not be enough when everything is taken away
When I am stripped bare and pulled apart
When all my pieces are given away
I will still be passed around
Because I am the Giving Tree
My god that was an emotional ride
To be honest, I think I preferred the Giving Tree part, but both were so great
The Giving Tree part is my favorite too, because it kind of keeps the theme consistent, unlike the first couple parts in which I kind of…ended up all over the place, to say the least
I absolutely adore « Everything that made me me/ Everything I had to give, I gave »
rjjekjekjewk thamk!!!