Temper Temper - 5.1 by Twizted-Katharsis, literature
Literature
Temper Temper - 5.1
Shawn woke up quietly, halfway into that dream-state where the world is too real, and dreams are overlapping. He watched as Carmen moved their holiday cases out of the room, muttering softly at their weight. She disappeared four times, finally returning to stand at the foot of the bed, regarding his half asleep form.
He grunted softly and went back to sleep.
"F'k'n typical." Carmen muttered, whipping back the covers to reveal his naked form.
"Get up."
The command (And it was nothing but a command) was half murmured, half barked at him as he rolled onto his stomach, keeping his front warm. He was still completely oblivious to the world.
"
"There's a prism by the window, that lets the light leak in"
I'm sitting here, sipping at my malibu and diet coke as I listen to them sing, lost in his smell. Even through the smokey, stinking crowd, I can smell him, and I smile. I realise that I'm enjoying myself, and I'm singing along to the Karaoke tunes blaring out around us.
My dad was the first to get up and sing out of the lot of us. Then He got up. And He sang, and I went up with Him, because the crowd was so thick and because I didn't want to lose sight of him for even a minute. And Maybe because I hoped I could boost his confidence a little. He had mentioned being nervous. Gods He
The sun streamed through the filmy cutains, setting light to the dusty air. Tiny fae danced in front of the newly risen Aurora, held in sway by sleepily swirling fingers, caressing and shifting the air to set the dust motes spinning again.
Charlie smiled as he watched her, woken by the subtle shift of her muscles against the soft mattress. He wondered how long she'd been awake, and judging by the look of concentration upon her face it seemed to be hours.
He doubted that she'd returned to sleep after waking up.
"I know you're awake" she whispered, as if trying not to distub him.
"I was trying to hide it?"
She smiled, suddenly rolling into
'Did you forget.. by Twizted-Katharsis, literature
Literature
'Did you forget..
Falling in love isn't particularly hard. Nor is falling out of love, when you can step back and view things from someone else's eyes...
Year 8. I was 12 or 13, walking through the Art corridor on my way to Registration. I liked the Art corridor. It smelled like creativity, and had all of the GCSE and A level projects of the students up. All of the good work.
Some was better than others. Mine never actually went up. I took GCSE Art. Got a C. I dropped it then. Maybe I should have stuck in. But I didn't like being average at anything.
I always smiled at him as I wandered to reg. He was small, but well formed. Almost girlish, but lacking the
He took the clouds down from the sky,
Wrapped me up and dried my eyes,
Declaimed his love, adoration,
Put me high above my station.
He stole me away from a world I knew,
Pulled me through to a world I found cruel,
A world filled with life, reality, love,
Hated myself, "You're being too tough
On yourself, my angel"
Did he ever see the crumbling Babel
The towering mass of insults endured?
And now he thinks to treat me, lure
Me through to his world
Of perfect men and perfect girls.
---
Bitterness twist your sugar-sweet lies
Around my heart, form barbed-wire
around my soul,
Keep me free from that great black hole
they called d
Character Concept by Twizted-Katharsis, literature
Literature
Character Concept
-|- Character -|- Conception -|-
*Jane Isis Maria Giovanna Folla
*21 :: 07th Aug.
*Newcastle-upon-Tyne
*20th Century
*Personality
-+-Appears vaguely scatty and unfocused; generates an aura of ineptness and impulsiveness. Never seems to be on one train of thought for any length of time.
-+-Does not think in a generally linear way; instead seems to jump from thought to thought as if playing leapfrog. Has a way of finding a conclusion before the question has been asked.
-+-Has no particular standpoint on anything, but enjoys discussion.
-+-Doesn't see the point of argument, although enjoys arguing over silly little things such as the
Light teasing
Playful torment
And the pain and aching fills me
Lips meet
Eyes close
Electric eels dancing in my stomach
He kissed me
I kissed him
All I ever wanted, right here in sight
Lips part
Eyes flutter
Nothing to do but start over
And over
And over
And over again, until the oxygen's gone.
The room was filled, wall to floor to wall to ceiling, with books. Each cover was different, but similarities weren't uncommon.
Carefully arranged by author, then series, then title; numerical and alphabetical.
The room wasn't very large, made even smaller by the lack of windows and the tiny alleyway leading inside to the tomes.
Shadows flitted back and forth, dancing in the candlelight. It was one lone flame, held up by the aching arm of a girl as she sat reading.
The book in her lap was large enough to half-hide her, each hard cover rested to a cloth-covered knee.
By the minimal light of the candle, only the style of the girl could be
Red ochre symbols danced across the old parchment page; one of many pages in the heavy tome that rested in the young girl's lap.
A slender finger followed the lines and curls of what could only be supposed as letters, manicured nail hissing against the rough paper as it scratched across the page.
Occasionally, a puff of air would come from pursed lips, and a lock of shiny black would fly up into the air only to land back in the eyes of the girl.
Distraction after distraction came rapidly now. The candle guttered in the draught that came from under the door; the ochre symbols danced and changed constantly, making it impossible to follow wha
The words were etched into her skin, crawling through her flesh like an infestation of sneaking creeping spiders.
She writhed on the hardwood bed, struggling to free herself from the gossamer constraints tying her down as the words burrowed under her skin, coiling around her heart as if a great snake were closing its rough body around her, moving in for the kill.
The dry rustle of pages filled the room, whispering their secrets to the whimper and frustration-filled air. The quiet echo of boot heels against a stone floor sounded, moving steadily closer.
The footfalls grew louder, clearer, closer.
All of a sudden, there was a hand on her s
I was standing in the doorway of the chandelier room, scanning the masive hall for any sight of somebody (Anybody) that I knew. Just someone to walk over to and say hi. Someone who didn't hate me; who I wasn't scared of.
"You look gorgeous tonight, Clara!"
The words stumbled across the room to me, and I looked up. Who on earth in this place..?
And I saw a girl whom I'd have paid to avoid. Someone I was absolutely terrified of. She reminded me of those American Cheerleaders; the ones that laced their compliments with arsenic.
But Oh how I needed that bitter Arsenic right now.
I smiled, waved graciously and nodded; smoothed my dress agains
*cough* ... Hi. Longtimenosee.
For anyone interested, I'm alive! Still at the tax place, not so much RPing anymore, not so much writing anymore... But yeah.. Ok.
Hi. How are you?
"Do me a favour?"
"Anything,"
"Just forget."
He paused, uncertain. "Anything in particular?"
I wanted to laugh. With the phone pressed to my ear, I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of my request. He had left me on tenterhooks, hanging on his every breath for a month, waiting for his answer. He had broken my heart and I had berated him for it.
"Everything. Today, the last two years. Things before the last two years.."
He laughed. I had wanted to laugh, but he actually did. He laughed in my ear and I wanted to cry.
"I'm free on Wednesday."
"I'm working Wednesday." I tried not to snap, tried to stay calm. "I have a half day on Thur
There are talks that people have with their friends that tend to inspire certain feelins in them. Whenever I speak with certains numbers of my friends I get odd cravings for obscurity. Which is wierd, because I like to be noticed.
I had a conversation today about mirrors. I don't like them; they just creep me out no end. I mean obviously they're useful, for the whole vanity issue that I have, but in general Mirrors are bad. The small one in my bag is good enough for me, and that's only cause it's mostly hidden.
So my friend, he likes Mirrors. Apparently they're more fun than television. Here comes the discussion.
More fun than television a