Post by Susurrous on Sept 22, 2010 23:40:53 GMT -5
“What time is it?” Remi asked no one in particular. As far as he could tell, he was all alone. He sat on a rock by a burned out fire ring. He didn’t know who had made the fire or who had moved the rock close to it. The ashes were blowing in the breeze when he approached it. The embers had long ago died and grown cold. Looking at the long and dry and yellow grass that grew all around him, Remi was surprised the fire hadn’t sprang from its creator’s control, becoming a monster, a wall of flame that would stop at nothing to destroy. It would destroy its master and it would destroy the field and it would burn anyone who tried to reach forward and calm it. It would see nothing but flame, burning away from the inside out to everything around it, to everything it had ever known, eventually destroying the very ting that kept it alive, burning out the very thing it needed to survive. It would fade and spark and cry as it became deprived, starved. The final tendrils of flame would stagger and fall and collapse and disappear in the very place where it had destroyed its own source. The heat would leave it so quickly. It would die cold and feared by all, never again to be the warmth of some vagabond’s night. Never to be remembered as the only light a single man had for comfort and to evade the harsh cold. Known only for destroying. Only because temptation had caused it to reach out, take a taste of the greater materials of life, tempted to grow and expand and devour then devour more then devour everything until there was nothing. Remington envisioned this as he looked at the old fire ring. He shivered as the brisk wind tussled his dark hair. He could feel the eyes of the forest behind him.
There was the forest behind him, looking at him from the dark places between the trees. Telling him to come back with a firm and threatening and chilling voice. But he wouldn’t go back. He would stay in the bright yellow field that was only fading and paling as he imagined being engulfed in flames, while the sky was darkening above him, while the clouds released their burden on him, leaving him shivering and wet. And he wanted to be burned alive, wanted the fury of flame upon him to end him in a single breath, a single inhalation of fire would leave him as nothing but ashes and how he longed for such a simple state of being. Surely in such a state, one could not feel loneliness? One could not feel the ache of having been left and forgotten? But there was no fire, and the ashes grew wet and stopped blowing in the wind, the cold wind that bit through clothes and straight through skin and far past the bone, it blew deep into one’s heart and the very essence of one’s soul and there it stayed and could not be removed. It made a person shiver uncontrollably as the rain poured and poured and never stopped and soaked to the core as well, trying to compete with the wind and there clash was catastrophic to the host of the battle. A whirlwind inside, wrecking whatever the fire could not, picking up the ashes and tormenting them, abusing their very existence, swirling them into confusion, reminding them of the coldness of being. “Not that it matters anyways,” Remi said to himself when no one answered his question. The sun did not shine through the clouds that moved and swirled and danced above him, the clouds that were grey enough to be purple. It was dark down here, no matter what the time was.
Out of character: Right so this whole RPing thing is new to me…Sorry if I screw up, but how hard can it be if one is able to make fiction and stuff?
There was the forest behind him, looking at him from the dark places between the trees. Telling him to come back with a firm and threatening and chilling voice. But he wouldn’t go back. He would stay in the bright yellow field that was only fading and paling as he imagined being engulfed in flames, while the sky was darkening above him, while the clouds released their burden on him, leaving him shivering and wet. And he wanted to be burned alive, wanted the fury of flame upon him to end him in a single breath, a single inhalation of fire would leave him as nothing but ashes and how he longed for such a simple state of being. Surely in such a state, one could not feel loneliness? One could not feel the ache of having been left and forgotten? But there was no fire, and the ashes grew wet and stopped blowing in the wind, the cold wind that bit through clothes and straight through skin and far past the bone, it blew deep into one’s heart and the very essence of one’s soul and there it stayed and could not be removed. It made a person shiver uncontrollably as the rain poured and poured and never stopped and soaked to the core as well, trying to compete with the wind and there clash was catastrophic to the host of the battle. A whirlwind inside, wrecking whatever the fire could not, picking up the ashes and tormenting them, abusing their very existence, swirling them into confusion, reminding them of the coldness of being. “Not that it matters anyways,” Remi said to himself when no one answered his question. The sun did not shine through the clouds that moved and swirled and danced above him, the clouds that were grey enough to be purple. It was dark down here, no matter what the time was.
Out of character: Right so this whole RPing thing is new to me…Sorry if I screw up, but how hard can it be if one is able to make fiction and stuff?