It's writing, sense is not desirable.

The tapping started just as I made my way into the deep meadow. Dew lined the blades of grass, giving by bare feet the feeling of worms slowly getting pushed trough the gaps of my toes. The sun had just pierced the clouds, and cast a warm glow on my face, keeping the coolness of my heart inside the dark caresses.

"I have been here before," I muttered to my mother, who stood close by, holding a bouquet of flowers. "You brought me here. I was a little girl then." The soft wind picked up, lifting my hair.

"Yes, I am glad you recall it Gabriel," she replied, neglecting to lift her eyes from the rosy flowers. "I know it is sad, Gabriel, but it will not be the last time I see you. I want you to keep that in mind."

"Mother, do you really think I should feel neglected? I do. Nothing you say will take me from that. It is what you chose for me." Slowly a tear ran down my cheek, chilling me to the bone.

"Gabriel. You always were the type weren't you? The type to ignore what is best for you, to abandon what you love to feel a great neglect." She handed me the roses, and kissed my cheek. "Farewell my child."

That is when anger rose in me. Swelling like a balloon with not enough space and to much air. "When I return, mother, make sure nothing more shall happen to my heart. It is weak enough already." I nearly screamed the last words, shifting my bow to higher place on my back. That's when I left. I had lived in that town all of my life. Now, it may have been the last time I saw the stone walls.

As I left the dew swamped meadow, the tapping of the woodpeckers beak seized.

_________________
The Optimistic AU Gentlewoman


http://secretoasis.jconserv.net << Me and Aranel's forum. ^^

Quite good, and if you want to see some of my more weird thoughts check the "My Drivelings" topic in Fanfics & Poetry.

Nostariel, well done! I liked it a lot. The descriptions were impeccable. Thanks for sharing.

_________________
Made by Meganelf



Made 1000 posts on 7/22/06!!!!!!!!!

very nice, I especially liked the bit about the worms.

_________________
<center> .nph ftw.
[!~^$=+?]</center>

Thanks for the compliments.

_________________
The Optimistic AU Gentlewoman


http://secretoasis.jconserv.net << Me and Aranel's forum. ^^

I am seriously afflicted. Its horrible. But now I have a good story going. Its really long (some 45 notebook pages) and i hope to finish it. Yes. I have written that much, the least I can do is finish the darn thing.

Nostariel, that's a really good story. Your writing style is really good. It has a sort of Richness to it, like really good chocolate. Unfortunatley, I can't eat your story. *Goes of to find some good chocolate*

Ick, I have that syndrome as well. I'll be going really well for awhile, and then just stop for no reason. I'm actually working well on one right now though.

_________________
"Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home."

Yeah! That really stinks! Is that the same thing as "writer's block"? I'm working steady on one right now, but I have a bunch of others I want to work on but just can't find the time.

_________________
Made by Meganelf



Made 1000 posts on 7/22/06!!!!!!!!!

Oh I know- time is a huge issue for me too. I just have so much other school work and things to do... it's really hard to find time just to write, which really stinks.

_________________
"Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home."

Right now I'm doing pretty good on working on a story, but on other stories I've tried, I've been terrible at finishing! I'll either get stuck, or get an idea for a different story and start working on that one. lol

It's not that, it's just I've found this story I want to finish. Then after a little 'bit of writing I start doing something else. The story then vanishes into oblivion.

Yay- I have great news!! My school is putting together a collection of things to get published into a book, and I was chosen as someone who should write something for it. I'm sort-of kind-of getting published. I'm just not sure what to submit....

_________________
"Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home."

Wow.. sorry for just vanishing like that... my computer crashed.

-swirls- Anyway...

Nostariel, your story was really nice.. it had rather a uhh... dark quality to it, if you know what I mean?
I shall have to post a story soon, ne? Mhhmm...
-twirls at random stories-

Ah! Here we are:

... Just Another Night...
-----------------------------

The Demon stirred slightly, the merest quivering of his well defined nostrils, while long, platinum lashes seemed to flutter for a moment. True, enough, he was dreaming... after all, even the most evil of creatures could dream..

In the bed next to him, lay a young woman, golden hair lying spread out around her in a thick sheet; sleeping beauty indeed.... yet upon close inspection, her so thought ivory skin seemed sallow; almost chalky in the pale morning light. Her eyes.... was it an illusion the way the stared, so lifelessly at the high ceiling?

The man next to her was now waking, pushing back the blankets with a thin hand, to reveal merely a white, silken shirt, hanging open down to his waist, showing a perfect, alabaster chest-- hardly muscular... yet not too feminine to not retain an air of power about him.
Sitting up in the bed, Laen turned his face to look at the dead woman next to him... gently, he reached out a thin white hand, brushing back a golden curl from her sallow features. His voice when he spoke, was a throaty purr, adding to the seductive manner that followed him.

"Isabell... why.... thank you for your essence, my dear.. it was... delightful."
It was true, he always thanked his unfortunate victims, always left a white flower in their poor, cold fingers... before leaving with their soul.
Then, he carefully drew the blanket up over the woman's bare arms, rising from the bed and wandering, blithely to the mirror.. a low purr of satisfaction escaped his lips, upon seeing his own reflection.

An elegant face peered back at him from the glass, the skin luminous, almost glimmering ivory itself. Grey eyes searched for some kind of feeling in his own features; none there to be found... yet the strangest thing about these eyes, had to be the pupils; long, and slit like a cat's, they lent him an exquisite feline grace, a grace that was added to by the thick, silken sheet of platinum blonde hair, hanging down his back in a curtain, brushing his narrow hips.

Ah, he hadn't always been like this... no, things would have been different if only she had lived... if only he had come in time to save her from their hands... and then he had watched them...
Shaking his head, he turned his back on the glass, his smokey eyes wandering about the room.
It was only a small bedsit... not his, no, of course not... God, he would never have lived in a place like this, the very thought of it wrung a pained sigh from him. Yet, it wasn't too bad for one as low as Isabell... not too bad at all. During the brief interval that he had spoken to her, he had learned that she was no more than a bar-maid... and that had been where he had met her.

Poor girl... she was no more than twenty... yet some things had to be done... she should thank herself lucky that he wasn't vampiric; indeed, those victims did die in a wonderful state of bliss... but all the same...
Sauntering across to the window, he cast an apathetic glance to the street below; nothing seemed to stirr.. merely a few people begining to waken from their dreams.. dreams like his, hm? Perhaps... perhaps dreams like his...

Trailing a thin, alabaster hand through ash-blonde hair, Loclaen turned to the small dressing table that overlooked the street, from the shabby bay-window. A small stool stood there, covered by a red velvet throw; apparently Isabell had been taken in by looks... but that was obvious, otherwise she wouldn't be lying dead, would she?

Setting himself down, almost daintily, the Demon took up a thin brush, begining to seach through the girl's cosmetic appliences. Soon, he found what he was looking for, a small pot of rouge.
Smirking to himself, at a personal joke, he trailed the fine brush through the scarlet dye, raising it to his lips, and applying it, heavily, in long, practiced strokes. Next, his slender fingers began to search again; this time retrieving black kohl from one of the tiny draws. With great care, he raised the pencil to his eyes, until eventually, he was satisfied with the out-come.

Now he drew on his clothes, a white silken shirt, and a grey velvet frock-coat, and trousers.. the lapells of the jacket adorned with heavy brocade. Yes, his narcissism was awful... and he cursed well knew it... but then... what would he do, if not for his beauty?

After waiting some time, Laen finally rose from his chair, slipping to the bed where the dead woman lay. Bending his head, he brushed heavily rouged lips over the other's blue mouth, thin fingers caressing the golden curls... for what life would she have ended up with, anyway? A bar-maid, for the rest of her years? No, that was what she deluded herself with... no one had to guess at what she would have become.
Slowly, Laen took a single white flower from his button hole, slipping it into Isabell's stiff fingers.
"Sleep well, ma cherie..."

The Demon straightened himself again, turning his back on the corpse, and making his way to the door, thin, gloved fingers turning the heavy, golden handle. Wrong.... yes, he had done wrong... but he had been hurt, so very badly.... and why should the world escape his wrath?
Now, without looking back, Loclaen J`Adore made his way out of the bedroom, and down in to the darkening Paris streets....

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-

Erm...that kind of hurts my eyes to read, can you put spaces between the paragraphs please?

-le flounce- Hai, that was copied and pasted from a message... any paragraphs were lost. XD'
'Tis fixed, now.

_________________
Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-