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this eternity
Oct. 18th, 2005 @ 12:53 am Will and Sam
This flame is: melancholymelancholy
Current Music: winterborn -cruxshadows
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Oct. 13th, 2005 @ 01:45 am Smoke
Current Music: winterborn -the cruxshadows
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Oct. 1st, 2005 @ 02:45 am Resolve
This flame is: pensivepensive
Half of his troops fell the day before, and the medical supplies were running low, when the general called the spy. The man or actually the spy was young enough for the general to think of him as a boy, came into the leader's tent. It was the boy's fault the troops had fallen he hadn't seen the other troop moving or heard the enemy call for re-enforcements.
He was sent to cut off whatever silly rider tried to call for the back-up battalions, however instead of destroying the lone rider he had been thrown off his horse and been trampled, it was a miracle he survived. However it did prevent him from telling the general till the men had fallen in the trap. They gave chase hoping to destroy as many as they could, but when the enemy began falling from the trees, they tried to turn back. Instead of "strategic withdrawal", panic occurred costing to many lives.
"You've cost us the battle," the general began as he stared at the boy wondering how one so young had been assigned such in important task on his own. The man stared at the dry white streaks on the boys dirty face and wonder if they were tears of pain, regret, defeat, or fear. Fear, he decided staring in the boys and quiver as though the man had turned into a viscous snake. "Because you were afraid," he finished. The boy looked into the man's piercing stare feeling as though all his protection was useless, that the eyes could see his soul. "But you shouldn't have been sent to do that by yourself anyway. The blame does not fall on you nor will you be punished for it," the general told the boy expecting some form of relief to present itself, instead the boy's shoulders only tighten. "Tell me child what do you fear?" the general asked.
"That the enemy will break though and hurt my mother and sister, Sir" the boy's voice was horse.
"There is no one who could protect them? Where is your father then?"
"There is no one, Sir. My father died in battle last year, Sir."
"So a thief might go in and slit their throats, and no one would stop him, in fact if it was his purpose he could massacre the whole town in a night with his knife." the general looked at the boy's changing expression. It surprised the general to see the fear fading resolve taking its place as darkness replaces the last rays of the sun. "Tell me did you learn anything of our enemies movements before you lost him."
"The scout said something about the northern outpost. I think they are using it as a base, sir." the boy looked the man in the eye.
"Thank you, dismissed."
The boy silently saluted the man and walked away leaving no trace.

That morning the several scouts were sent out to see how the enemy was moving and whether they should withdraw to town or simply fortified the area, but what they saw amazed them, there was no movement. The guards were gone and everything was silent. One the men had the nerve to peek into the biggest tent and saw the general laying in his bed, red sheets pulled to his chin in sharp contrast to pale skin, almost appearing too civilized over the red mud forming under his bed. It was at that moment he realized why the general had red sheets. He told the other scouts to check all the tents for living people.
After a few hours they found a boy, the spy, he was lying on the dirt curled around the wound in his stomach.
"What happened?" asked the older scout who found him.
"I was able to, sneak past the guards, and kill the sleeping, soldiers and the general, but the guards..." he paused as if to catch his breath, "they all came at once." He gasped a moment before telling the scout “the rest are in the north.” Then he went limp.
"Hang on kid," the scout told the spy.
He didn’t make it to tent, and no one seemed to know his name.
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Feb. 21st, 2005 @ 11:13 pm flee the helplessness
This flame is: crappywho cares?
Current Music: Round here -counting crows
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Feb. 17th, 2005 @ 09:59 pm electrical storm
This flame is: tiredtired
Current Music: Jumper -third eye blind
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Feb. 9th, 2005 @ 10:18 am when beleife dies
This flame is: discontentdiscontent
Current Music: gothic rock
is there no one out there who reads this?
should this journal just be private?
the other one is headed there too
because if no one cares...
disappearing is by far more graceful
then being shunned
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Feb. 8th, 2005 @ 12:27 am another random sea story
This flame is: hopefulhopeful
Current Music: a ringing office phone, "thank you for calling...."
The sea swells grow large as the captain looks over his thinning crew wondering why their mother ceased her care. It had been weeks since anyone caught anything and the ship was not built for fish, but for treasure. This would have been fine as well for the gold they carried would have fed all of them well for the rest of their lives, should they find a willing merchant. However the barren sea they braved was too full of unpredictable waves for most, some said it was the birth place of sea monsters, some said the sea itself in the area spawned pirates. But the old captain had pulled many ships through the mythic triangle before and while some times the weather got a little rough and the fishing was always harder here, it was the fastest way.
With the water so desolate the chef hadn't been able to cook a decent meal in over a week, but that didn't stop the crew from working. The captain paused his reflection for a moment to look up at the stars and check their course; according to his charts they were nearly away from the cursed place and with a few days they would hit land, according to his calculations. He was about to announce the discovery to his crew when the half-starved crow called out, "pirates", as the ship appeared from behind a swell. The sailors were still drawing their swords as the pirates boarded. All the pirates and treasure hunters joined in battle. The captain found the leader of the pirates catching his attention by leaping in front of him with a drawn sword. "What do you want?" he asked as the other man attacked.
"All I see," responded the pirate leader with breath that would have been as effective as his sword.
"Can we not pay you to leave our humble ship alone? I'm sure you have no desire to see your... men dying," said the captain holding 'fine' apart because of the lack of good men as he swung his sword around to strike.
The other leader saw the opening striking as he told the captain "I won't argue with fewer mouths to feed, but that aside, this is for your trespassing." The captain's thinning form was lifted almost a foot in the air with the blow that carried him a foot back as the ship dropped to the other side of a swell.
At the height of his fall one word burst from his lips, "Bryan." the name of his first mate.
A red haired sailor glance out in time to see his captain dropping into the ocean, turned back to his opponent who was crushed with his next blow, then he called to the rest of the crew, "Fight these rats with vengeance."
The captain managed to swim back through the harsh waters and clung to a rope hanging on the hull. Seen by none till the danger had passed, he clung unseeing, unhearing, unfeeling, unconsciously, numb to the rope. Bryan looked at the sea, believing the glance and thorough scan to be in vain, but a smile crossed his face when he realized his captain was still with them. He went down, pulled the man from the rope, and brought him on deck. The crew knew a little food and rest would allow him to heal, but like the rest of the sea goers he was still starving. With in that moment a fisherman came back with the first catch in weeks.
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Jan. 25th, 2005 @ 08:39 pm inspired by fate
This flame is: confusedconfused
Zombies were everywhere. The living dead, as some called them, most would never really live again, rose from near fatal wounds when their heart's blood was drained. Staggering around from corpse to, eating the flesh of their dead kin. Though they were sentient enough to know not to eat the living, and to perform nearly any job, and still not alive, not capable of feeling joy. They still went to parties on occasion, never leaving the wall. Some retained the luster of life but still couldn't feel and soon lost even that. These were the true losers. Almost anyone could become such a creature, even the most precious creatures, could become these fiends.
And so it began for a young clerk who woke early in the morning and stayed till the moon was high in the sky, drained of everything by a previous job as guardian of sorts, the clerk was nearly one of them already. The hours took their toll, and soon it was all the drone could do to get to work. That was when they struck, the human at his or her weakest stands no chance against those vampire like beings. The clerk lost the little lingering feeling maintained and carried through the harsh year. The agony had a way of numbing one so that the loss of feeling is blessing. All the tears this one had shed as a guardian, as a drone, as lover, as a human, were instantly dried. A smothering embrace forced the air and life from the clerk’s lungs, along with all hope of feeling happy or loved ever again, but the rhythm of hug kept death at bay. The clerk could still support friends and could almost fool them, if they paid attention. Who'd believe it could happen to one of their own, and why bother knowing there was nothing for it? Denial is sometimes much sweeter then truth or acceptance.
Foolish friends decided to visit their broken friend when the tide got tougher, only the clerk seemed to stand against the breaking wave untouched. The clerk's home a modest place, full of modest things, trashed by the vampire's curse. The guide found the clerk and knew the problem at once, seeing the life drain a little more each day to be replaced by small amounts of polish. Friends remained blind, but the man who led them here, who gave everyone wings with a glance saw through the light disguise. He saw the hunger, the hole that once was hope, love, happiness, anger, and pain. The clerk's vacant eyes stared back at him, searching for something. He knew that this knowledge would only hurt the clerk’s friends; it was a miracle the drone could care enough to act. He looked into those eyes and saw only an exhausted hunger. The guide could stand it no more, the clerk still cared though all feelings were gone, it wasn't right and he could make it so. He took a knife to his upper arm till a bit of blood sprayed, and forced the zombie to catch it, his hand slid near the heart of the zombie smearing blood over the spot. Forcing the fallen angels heart to beat with his blood, his rhythm was close enough to the living one the clerk's body remembered, that his kiss wiped the darkness away, which the clerk was thrown back as feeling swept in.
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Jan. 22nd, 2005 @ 05:52 pm knight's angel
This flame is: hopefulhopeful
Current Music: under the brigde -red hot chili pepers
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Jan. 19th, 2005 @ 04:43 pm the voices in my head
This flame is: anxioustime for class
Current Music: If you could only see -tonic
what killed so many romancesCollapse )
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