Post by Fluory on Jun 13, 2006 0:30:09 GMT -5
[OoC: Contrary to some odd belief, I do write. I like to think I write decently, too. What I deal with in writing is either to be humorous, descriptive, or informative. Then again, I tend to not write much more than some odd attempts at humor these days, being that being politcally informative is asking for trouble and I don't role play all too much anymore.
In writing description of fantasy, I tend to place an emphasis on something -- something that will help convey why I am writing something. Role playing tends to have a precedence over moods, or, more commonly, scene/action description to help those around understand what happened and what something looked like. But this bit of writing is not for that purpose; this bit of writing has a very special meaning to me.
Dreams have always had a very powerful meaning to me. It's not because I believe they have a real hold within reality, but more of because the emotions I can feel in them. I can feel strange, more powerful emotionsfrom dreams -- emotions I highly prize and love, and seem to be unable to experience all too often within the waking world.
The description of the part of this dream may seem a bit odd to you, for dreams are rarely all to ocoherent, and I also chopped off the first half of the dream entirely. I don't like thinkingabout the first half for some reasons I'm not all too willing to explain -- all emotions are powerful to me in dreams, even just in recollecting them.
What has been written is not entirely the same as the original dream, as I love writin a little too much. Yeah, as lazy as I am, writing is still a very fun thing to me. I like doing it even more than drawing. Anywho, parts of the dream have been expanded slightly to perhaps sound more coherent or understandable; it's just impossible to accurately and fully document what one feels. When one thinks about it, it's even impossible to completely document what one sees.
Emotions as such have a very special place in the writing and style used; and were emphasised with a special priority. Details of scenery were left out, as I felt I couldn't describe my own neighborhood well enough to do it justice without either having a bad flow of details, or expanding my paragraphs even moreso than they are now. I didn't want to spend too much more than the forty-five minutes or so this took to write up. I simply wanted to try capturing what I felt as best I could, and to also explain to someone what I had seen. It felt odd to keep referring to 'the dream' but not giving a more indepth glance into it for him.
As a few final notes on this, the character within the dream is actually a dragon, yes. I do sometimes dream being a dragon -- a pink one, even. And please do excuse any errors. Typos that Word didn't automatically pick up probably do have a small place in the writing, and I apologise for not rooting them out. But I refuse to read over any peace of writing I feel I should be proud of, at least slightly so. Reading my own work, in contrast to looking at my art, tends to leave me loathing my style, and, while able to appreciate what I did do well, fills me with a sense of shame of sorts. ..So it's kind of painful to read over my stuff. And now you can finally read it. Hooray. I may post other snippets of dreams I can remember from long ago and care enough to write about or have in the future.]
A damp coolness settles over her as she jumps through the open window that had been oddly open to her, oddly calling. With a sharp landing on both her legs and slightly shorter arms, she quickly crawls around the side of the place she had once dubbed a place of safety and comfort. A welcome relief settles over her as the sharp, artificial light from her now unsafe room becomes replaced with scattered starlight and white street lights. Angry and disturbing shouts from behind her jolt her out of her slowed crawl towards the open driveway, her body clearly illuminated by the white light of a street light. With her panic back, she quickly bolts on her clawed feet, staying low to the ground despite her apparent visibility. As she quickly shifts into a faster mode on all fours, her feet feeling the cold, dewy grass before her as she cuts through her dark yard on a path back onto the white sidewalk, she feels reminded of how cold everything had gone, how quickly the warmth of her life had left. With a small leap, she leaves the vicinity of her yard to walk on her hind legs, quickly sprinting down the sidewalk, her form soon being hidden by the temporary darkness of trees that crowded the yards and sides of the sidewalk.
Seemingly within moments of her hurried sprint, she comes to a stop at an intersection after a strip of houses down a once familiar road. She tilts her head side-to-side down the three alternatives laid before her. To her left lay a familiar elementary school down a short strip of road, a promise of the old times calling to her on a warm breeze her way. She briefly considers taking the run down there, when the sudden realization that the breeze and slightly lighter sky- speckled with stars- was exactly from a memory long ago, a disgust at the alternative of the past turning her away from that road.
With her snout turned forward, a damp, musty scent is carried back to her. Her glowing gaze stares into the dark road ahead, but cannot penetrate the darkness. The musty and damp breeze that wafts across her face promises seclusion from the troubles at home, a promise that she will always be with herself. As she continues to gaze near unseeingly into the darkness, overgrown trees and abandoned houses just visible on the end of the street before falling into darkness, she takes a step forward, responding to the call of seclusion and only herself. But that step forward is all she takes, as she defiantly stares back into the darkness, a denial of drowning in self-pity in a world not truly there.
With her denial, she quickly turns off to her right, sprinting down the white sidewalk under brighter lights, ignoring the messages of the cold, unfeeling air upon the town that blew across her body as she thought it to be her only choice. Her mind is dully prodded by the messages only vaguely noticed in the increasingly different houses and sidewalks that betray her old memory of the area. But with the dull note of the unfamiliarity of a road that should be familiar, she begins to walk at a more relaxed pace, quickly finding her surroundings normal enough. With a sharp jolt of the oddness of her previous panicked state, she quickly finds out her memory of why she was in such a hurry to leave has begun to fade. On that small realization, the cold, unfamiliar surroundings of the road should be strange to her, she comes to a stop.
Before her mind can return to why this should concern her, giggles and laughs startle her. She gazes just before her to see two girls, a spark of recognition flashing across her mind. She trains her gaze on them, a sharp fanged smile pulling at her draconic face. The two girls, one clearly older than the other, stop a mere two feet ahead of her, seemingly shocked at seeing her.
“I’ve finally gotten what you wanted.” she said, quickly remembering the two girls and what they had sought out together. With her head held high, she gazed expectantly at the two girls, waiting for them to ask how she had done it. But their gazes were devoid of recognition. A sharp realization finally shoots through her consciousness, the meaning of all of the surroundings finally singing their tune through her. She feels a stab of shame as the unnatural coldness fades away, as does the majority of the scenery.
With a blink, she finds herself on a familiar street corner, orange and white light illuminating her surroundings as three different roads call to her. A familiar dark one, not the same as the last, but with an identical tune fails to entice her, as does a road off to her left begging her to go and forget with each cold gust of wind. She turns her head on both of those, tilting her head down the right, down into the orange light of the more illuminated and industrial part of the small town. A different calling is picked up by her on a musky, warm breeze. Memories and familiarity hung on the breeze, but so did a challenge towards the new.
The calling held more meaning for her than all of the others, and as she took a step down that street, she noticed all the life of the common people. But their movements that she could barely see in her scope of vision seemed unnatural, restless, like they were waiting for her. She knew that it was too dangerous to go that way, and turned around sharply to run back down the street she had come from, thankful for the stillness, warmth, and lack of unfamiliarity that she had almost become lost in.
With a quick second turn, back down her home street, she turns her back on the three paths that she failed to comply to, back down the street with the familiar feelings of betrayal, oppression, and hopelessness. But she refused to let them weigh her down as her pace carried her past her house, the thought of staying apathetic to her life’s situation quickly crushed as she passed her house. Shouts rang out from her residence with her passing, the panic that powered her increasing, almost drowning out the call of a promising path. But her mind was put to a calmer state as the shouts faded away and with the warmth of her destination becoming more prominent and powerful. She dares to take a few jumps into the sky, feeling her time was running out to leave. She soared through the air for but a few moments with each jump, the fatigue and worry of past problems keeping her down.
Her urgency to leave sends her into a sharp turn and fast sprint down the nearest street to the left, ignoring the two alternative streets ahead of her and to her right with just the first impression of them. She alternates between powerful, slightly more free jumps over cars and the few people and her fast paced runs, she ignores the shouts and surprise of them, ignoring how different she was to them all now. With another dash down the road that she had originally been called to just before being compelled to backtrack, she quickly finds herself running down a near deserted street. The orange lights of the street lights that lined the streets lit her way as she found the feeling of the calling down the road pushing her forward and taking precedence over all else. She feels a great sense of relief at the absence of all others, feeling her urgency die down as she moves forward. Her urgency is slowly replaced by a sense of safety the further she goes, crushing her urgency as she comes to the end of the road, stopping completely. Not quite end, but trees began to create a ceiling over the road just past where she was, alluding to another path.
She taps her pearl claws against the black pavement, her brilliant pink gaze quickly observing the lack of contrast between the black pavement and the black, almost star less skies above her, realizing how much darker the sky was there in contrast to her previous experiences. Her pink, soft body glows within the misleading stillness of the little area, her neon scales slightly reflecting the orange light of a nearby, deserted gas station – the light seeming dull against the ethereal glow about her. As her head tilts from side to side, almost not believing the tranquility of the place, a soft breeze from down the road slides across her, slightly shifting the brilliant furs on her lighter colored tail around. Her bright wings shift and lightly flap, feeling useless but needed as she considers her need to leave. She taps her left foot on the ground, her claws barely making a sound on the soft pavement, the feelings of safety given off by the area being seen as only half true. One could find her just as easily there, but the power of the place drove others away; whereas the urging to leave to a rarely used path calls to her, keeping her from fleeing the oppressive town through other exits – exits without as much promise or power to them. All except this exit were unacceptable to her, and with these thoughts, the calling towards flight above the grove of trees- dark trees, covering the road to yet another, unaccepted exit- the alluring calmness wavering. A loud crash from back down the road- past the orange light of the grocery store, down way further past darkened stores- and around the corner, several shouts rising from the area.
She tilts her head skyward, her eyes vaguely seeing the black sky from the power of the calling, the sense of desire to leave from a place of such powerful memories and underlying danger overpowering her, the musty odor and warm, almost comfortable, humidity of the place becoming more sharply noted. With another sweep of her head, she gives a resigned sigh. With her mind grasping hold on the melancholy sadness of the wonderful, dark night, she springs forward. With a fluid leap, she briefly soars just above the tree line, not relying on the power of her wings now outstretched. With a small lingering doubt about her weightlessness, she quickly finds herself running down the pavement again, quickly coming closer to the grove of trees over the road that cuts through a small residential section before coming out along a new, different path. Dispelling her fears and burying her mind within the desire to leave and the strange power of lost memories- particularly those of the glorious night- she takes another leap into the air, unhindered as she cuts through the slightly humid air, fresh scents along with old, musty ones reaching her on a slightly stronger, cool breeze as she finds herself staying over the trees, her gaze staring unseeingly into the sky with a rare, odd euphoria.
In writing description of fantasy, I tend to place an emphasis on something -- something that will help convey why I am writing something. Role playing tends to have a precedence over moods, or, more commonly, scene/action description to help those around understand what happened and what something looked like. But this bit of writing is not for that purpose; this bit of writing has a very special meaning to me.
Dreams have always had a very powerful meaning to me. It's not because I believe they have a real hold within reality, but more of because the emotions I can feel in them. I can feel strange, more powerful emotionsfrom dreams -- emotions I highly prize and love, and seem to be unable to experience all too often within the waking world.
The description of the part of this dream may seem a bit odd to you, for dreams are rarely all to ocoherent, and I also chopped off the first half of the dream entirely. I don't like thinkingabout the first half for some reasons I'm not all too willing to explain -- all emotions are powerful to me in dreams, even just in recollecting them.
What has been written is not entirely the same as the original dream, as I love writin a little too much. Yeah, as lazy as I am, writing is still a very fun thing to me. I like doing it even more than drawing. Anywho, parts of the dream have been expanded slightly to perhaps sound more coherent or understandable; it's just impossible to accurately and fully document what one feels. When one thinks about it, it's even impossible to completely document what one sees.
Emotions as such have a very special place in the writing and style used; and were emphasised with a special priority. Details of scenery were left out, as I felt I couldn't describe my own neighborhood well enough to do it justice without either having a bad flow of details, or expanding my paragraphs even moreso than they are now. I didn't want to spend too much more than the forty-five minutes or so this took to write up. I simply wanted to try capturing what I felt as best I could, and to also explain to someone what I had seen. It felt odd to keep referring to 'the dream' but not giving a more indepth glance into it for him.
As a few final notes on this, the character within the dream is actually a dragon, yes. I do sometimes dream being a dragon -- a pink one, even. And please do excuse any errors. Typos that Word didn't automatically pick up probably do have a small place in the writing, and I apologise for not rooting them out. But I refuse to read over any peace of writing I feel I should be proud of, at least slightly so. Reading my own work, in contrast to looking at my art, tends to leave me loathing my style, and, while able to appreciate what I did do well, fills me with a sense of shame of sorts. ..So it's kind of painful to read over my stuff. And now you can finally read it. Hooray. I may post other snippets of dreams I can remember from long ago and care enough to write about or have in the future.]
A damp coolness settles over her as she jumps through the open window that had been oddly open to her, oddly calling. With a sharp landing on both her legs and slightly shorter arms, she quickly crawls around the side of the place she had once dubbed a place of safety and comfort. A welcome relief settles over her as the sharp, artificial light from her now unsafe room becomes replaced with scattered starlight and white street lights. Angry and disturbing shouts from behind her jolt her out of her slowed crawl towards the open driveway, her body clearly illuminated by the white light of a street light. With her panic back, she quickly bolts on her clawed feet, staying low to the ground despite her apparent visibility. As she quickly shifts into a faster mode on all fours, her feet feeling the cold, dewy grass before her as she cuts through her dark yard on a path back onto the white sidewalk, she feels reminded of how cold everything had gone, how quickly the warmth of her life had left. With a small leap, she leaves the vicinity of her yard to walk on her hind legs, quickly sprinting down the sidewalk, her form soon being hidden by the temporary darkness of trees that crowded the yards and sides of the sidewalk.
Seemingly within moments of her hurried sprint, she comes to a stop at an intersection after a strip of houses down a once familiar road. She tilts her head side-to-side down the three alternatives laid before her. To her left lay a familiar elementary school down a short strip of road, a promise of the old times calling to her on a warm breeze her way. She briefly considers taking the run down there, when the sudden realization that the breeze and slightly lighter sky- speckled with stars- was exactly from a memory long ago, a disgust at the alternative of the past turning her away from that road.
With her snout turned forward, a damp, musty scent is carried back to her. Her glowing gaze stares into the dark road ahead, but cannot penetrate the darkness. The musty and damp breeze that wafts across her face promises seclusion from the troubles at home, a promise that she will always be with herself. As she continues to gaze near unseeingly into the darkness, overgrown trees and abandoned houses just visible on the end of the street before falling into darkness, she takes a step forward, responding to the call of seclusion and only herself. But that step forward is all she takes, as she defiantly stares back into the darkness, a denial of drowning in self-pity in a world not truly there.
With her denial, she quickly turns off to her right, sprinting down the white sidewalk under brighter lights, ignoring the messages of the cold, unfeeling air upon the town that blew across her body as she thought it to be her only choice. Her mind is dully prodded by the messages only vaguely noticed in the increasingly different houses and sidewalks that betray her old memory of the area. But with the dull note of the unfamiliarity of a road that should be familiar, she begins to walk at a more relaxed pace, quickly finding her surroundings normal enough. With a sharp jolt of the oddness of her previous panicked state, she quickly finds out her memory of why she was in such a hurry to leave has begun to fade. On that small realization, the cold, unfamiliar surroundings of the road should be strange to her, she comes to a stop.
Before her mind can return to why this should concern her, giggles and laughs startle her. She gazes just before her to see two girls, a spark of recognition flashing across her mind. She trains her gaze on them, a sharp fanged smile pulling at her draconic face. The two girls, one clearly older than the other, stop a mere two feet ahead of her, seemingly shocked at seeing her.
“I’ve finally gotten what you wanted.” she said, quickly remembering the two girls and what they had sought out together. With her head held high, she gazed expectantly at the two girls, waiting for them to ask how she had done it. But their gazes were devoid of recognition. A sharp realization finally shoots through her consciousness, the meaning of all of the surroundings finally singing their tune through her. She feels a stab of shame as the unnatural coldness fades away, as does the majority of the scenery.
With a blink, she finds herself on a familiar street corner, orange and white light illuminating her surroundings as three different roads call to her. A familiar dark one, not the same as the last, but with an identical tune fails to entice her, as does a road off to her left begging her to go and forget with each cold gust of wind. She turns her head on both of those, tilting her head down the right, down into the orange light of the more illuminated and industrial part of the small town. A different calling is picked up by her on a musky, warm breeze. Memories and familiarity hung on the breeze, but so did a challenge towards the new.
The calling held more meaning for her than all of the others, and as she took a step down that street, she noticed all the life of the common people. But their movements that she could barely see in her scope of vision seemed unnatural, restless, like they were waiting for her. She knew that it was too dangerous to go that way, and turned around sharply to run back down the street she had come from, thankful for the stillness, warmth, and lack of unfamiliarity that she had almost become lost in.
With a quick second turn, back down her home street, she turns her back on the three paths that she failed to comply to, back down the street with the familiar feelings of betrayal, oppression, and hopelessness. But she refused to let them weigh her down as her pace carried her past her house, the thought of staying apathetic to her life’s situation quickly crushed as she passed her house. Shouts rang out from her residence with her passing, the panic that powered her increasing, almost drowning out the call of a promising path. But her mind was put to a calmer state as the shouts faded away and with the warmth of her destination becoming more prominent and powerful. She dares to take a few jumps into the sky, feeling her time was running out to leave. She soared through the air for but a few moments with each jump, the fatigue and worry of past problems keeping her down.
Her urgency to leave sends her into a sharp turn and fast sprint down the nearest street to the left, ignoring the two alternative streets ahead of her and to her right with just the first impression of them. She alternates between powerful, slightly more free jumps over cars and the few people and her fast paced runs, she ignores the shouts and surprise of them, ignoring how different she was to them all now. With another dash down the road that she had originally been called to just before being compelled to backtrack, she quickly finds herself running down a near deserted street. The orange lights of the street lights that lined the streets lit her way as she found the feeling of the calling down the road pushing her forward and taking precedence over all else. She feels a great sense of relief at the absence of all others, feeling her urgency die down as she moves forward. Her urgency is slowly replaced by a sense of safety the further she goes, crushing her urgency as she comes to the end of the road, stopping completely. Not quite end, but trees began to create a ceiling over the road just past where she was, alluding to another path.
She taps her pearl claws against the black pavement, her brilliant pink gaze quickly observing the lack of contrast between the black pavement and the black, almost star less skies above her, realizing how much darker the sky was there in contrast to her previous experiences. Her pink, soft body glows within the misleading stillness of the little area, her neon scales slightly reflecting the orange light of a nearby, deserted gas station – the light seeming dull against the ethereal glow about her. As her head tilts from side to side, almost not believing the tranquility of the place, a soft breeze from down the road slides across her, slightly shifting the brilliant furs on her lighter colored tail around. Her bright wings shift and lightly flap, feeling useless but needed as she considers her need to leave. She taps her left foot on the ground, her claws barely making a sound on the soft pavement, the feelings of safety given off by the area being seen as only half true. One could find her just as easily there, but the power of the place drove others away; whereas the urging to leave to a rarely used path calls to her, keeping her from fleeing the oppressive town through other exits – exits without as much promise or power to them. All except this exit were unacceptable to her, and with these thoughts, the calling towards flight above the grove of trees- dark trees, covering the road to yet another, unaccepted exit- the alluring calmness wavering. A loud crash from back down the road- past the orange light of the grocery store, down way further past darkened stores- and around the corner, several shouts rising from the area.
She tilts her head skyward, her eyes vaguely seeing the black sky from the power of the calling, the sense of desire to leave from a place of such powerful memories and underlying danger overpowering her, the musty odor and warm, almost comfortable, humidity of the place becoming more sharply noted. With another sweep of her head, she gives a resigned sigh. With her mind grasping hold on the melancholy sadness of the wonderful, dark night, she springs forward. With a fluid leap, she briefly soars just above the tree line, not relying on the power of her wings now outstretched. With a small lingering doubt about her weightlessness, she quickly finds herself running down the pavement again, quickly coming closer to the grove of trees over the road that cuts through a small residential section before coming out along a new, different path. Dispelling her fears and burying her mind within the desire to leave and the strange power of lost memories- particularly those of the glorious night- she takes another leap into the air, unhindered as she cuts through the slightly humid air, fresh scents along with old, musty ones reaching her on a slightly stronger, cool breeze as she finds herself staying over the trees, her gaze staring unseeingly into the sky with a rare, odd euphoria.