Weeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllllllll... Seeing as no one can seem to finish a battle, and I still have an itch to write, I think I shall start this free writing thread. Just a sort of free flow writing thread, where anyone that doesnt have a battle going, or just gets the feeling of writing and cant maintain a battle feel free to contribute! Whether it has any bearing on any of the other writing here is up to you!
A gilded crown makes for a heavy head.
A monument etched into the mountainside, a castle sat. But it was alone in its magnificence. Thousands of hands that it took to carve, none remained. A relic of time, or so it appeared, untold in its efforts to create, now sat forgotten by all but one.
The emperor sat, slouched on his throne, enveloped by the solitude that his paranoia had created. Trusting no one, he had slowly pushed everyone out, and now, not a single voice remained to challenge his rule.
His madness gripped him, clawing at his brain and echoing through his soul, it took hold.
He yelled at the sun, and cursed the rain, his mind playing tricks on him as he lived out his days alone. He had convinced himself that he needed no one, that he was strong enough to rule on his own.
And now, he was an exile in his own empire.
Still, Heavy lies the Crown.
Completely random, but its a start :-D. So come on, if you read this, contribute! Write something! Even if its only a line, even if its just a quote! Let me know that theres still some life in this board! Or, if your drawing a blank, just rewrite my little thought and put your own style into it!
At 18, he held life in his hands. Blood was everywhere, and the odor as it mixed with gasoline filled his lungs. A single spark would be enough to erase the other driver from this world, to condemn his memory to the past tense.
He stood above the scene, the embodiment of spite as his hatred for the other driver consumed him. The cigarette hung from his lips; the devil inside him manifest in a glowing cherry.
The road was dry, and the only rubber boiling on the road was from behind his car. The other driver hadn't even attempted to brake. His eyes locked on the bottle of whiskey that was now lying against the passenger window; the lack of respect for life was unforgivable. He turned away, inspecting the passenger side of his own vehicle. He ashed his cigarette.
The gasoline was everywhere, coating trees as it leaked from the gas tanks of the two cars. He took one last look at the driver, imagining what level of hell he would go to; which sin had taken ahold of him with such grip that he would do this. Sloth; too lazy to wait for a ride. Gluttony; unable to say no to just one more drink. Pride; unwilling to admit to himself he wasnt in any shape to be behind the wheel.
Whatever it was, he knew his own sin. He walked to his car, tossing the butt into the air behind him. He would let *** decide his vengeance.
He awoke the next morning to evacuation notices. A forest fire had raged through the night, already it had torn through three houses.
Fate has a wicked sense of humor.
OoC: Macabre and random, again. Oh well, at least its here! Seriously people, gimme some input, or post your own piece!
"Do you find all this fighting to be necessary?" Balio questioned as he took a
deep breath, his fingers gripping tightly to the hilt of his blade.
"It depends how you define necessary," replied Sunder, as sweat began to
flow into his eyes, blurring his vision momentarily. "You and I are warriors,
two of the last remaining gladiators in the world. This is what we do. While
others become soft and dull, we remain hard and sharp."
The sound of steel against steel echoed through the forest as the two
exchanged several more blows, each parrying the other.
"Does it not seem pointless sometimes?" Balio declared. "You and I have both
seen our fair share of death on the battlefield. One can only handle so much
before he reaches his breaking point."
For a brief moment, Balio's words stay Sunder's blade as it all starts to sink in.
Then, with the slightest grin, Sunder asks, "without this, what else would you do?"
"Your words do not go without merit brother.” With a smile, Balio charges at
Sunder, his blade ready to strike with all the viciousness of a viper. We are
warriors, this is what we do.