So, this is the 102nd post ever on this blog.
The 100th post was the Atlantica.
Woo! Yeah! This would be so cool and memorable if anyone ever read this!
I love you, Rabbia! Besides, you're the only one who read these things anyway...
I love you so much...
Dare I say that I didn't think this blog would hold until now....
And dare I say, from the first post there is, I can even see where I started from. And here I am. Doesn't feel like that much change but nevertheless
100 posts reached! Yay!
Sep 3, 2014
Tattered dreams, Old clarity
"Do this anymore and you're asking for hell," the man in black said with a threatening voice, his face hidden by the car window, slightly lowered down only to uncover his spectacled eyes. The eyes behind those glasses were old and worn but they are still full of vitality and a keen sense of instincts has flared more than anyone in them. They left scars that cannot be seen by the eyes alone.
"That's exactly what I'm doing, old man. I'm looking for Hell. He hasn't been answering these days, so I come knocking up on his door, just telling him I'm still alive," a voice beneath the blanket of rain came from the alley opposite the car. Through the hammering of the rain, the voice still hold its volume and a sinister grin appears with the sentences, a mirth that hasn't been unleashed but held on so tightly, the air vibrates. "Why don't you go up to that big old place and wait for me. I'll be your undertaker soon enough. Old. Man."
The eyes in the car stared long and hard in the blank space where the voice originated from. He looked on as if waiting for the inevatable to occur but the happenings are far from his days. The eyes took on a menacing glare, a lion ready to pounce on his prey without any mercy. But this prey, it had something special. His preys are always helpless and by the time they realize he has his teeth around their throats, they begged for life and refused to die. But a prey is a prey, one way or the other. The teeth do not unclench when blood clench his thirst.
The rain fell down on the tin roofs, the sounds enveloped anything but anyone who walked by can feel the tingly sensation in the air. Two mighty beings are on their edge, their swords ready to be sheathed in seconds and the fight enveloped soon will tell who will be the conquer of the other. Neither side wants to be defeated and both seem ready to die to fight for his cause. The subjugation of the other.
"Last warning. You do that one more time and I'll-"
"Kill me? You know it doesn't work that way, old man."
"Do you mind if an old man wants to finish his sentences once in a while?"
"Of course. I'd give you an apology but I'm all out of it, since you're the one who took them all anyways."
"Stay down. And maybe this whole place will give you another chance to live."
The window rolled up and two lights punctured through the veil of rain. An engine roared and the car disappeared down the road. There was no numbered plate, and the model was absolutely non-existent. That car was wrought from the it's rightful owners and it stayed there like an old pair of socks. Anybody who saw it would shy away, making way for it, knowing who the owner is and the power he holds. But that power will be taken over, one way or the other. This day or the next.
The sinister smile in the alley turned into a grimace of tightly coiled whip, readied to the fullest extent to be released. It leaves a good enough bad vibe to the whole place that anyone would avoid it. In the dark, a tattered and worned rag of clothes started to move. It tried to stand but it's thin legs tripped and the face end feel down in a heap. An arm appeared, pushing the body up. It trembles, trying to push against it's own weight. It managed to get to its knees when the body suddenly hunched up and heaved. The remains of food in it's belly was gone in an instant. It pushed more with it's frail legs, trying it's hardest to stand it's tallest, to stand ready.
"I'll be damned if something like you or this place takes me over. I'd go to hell and come back with souvenirs to give out to you guys first," it said with a shaking voice. It wiped his mouth with an already dirty rag, as the rain poured down it's face. A black eye peered through the filthy long hair. The area around it was swollen. The colour of the eye was deep brown, and bags of unslept nights weighed it down. There was fire in it, a fire that has burned as long as it has breathed on this earth. It wasn't large but it was fierce enough to burn whoever gets too close to douse it out. Even the world would feel it's wrath one day.
It smiled, remembering one fine night when the same old man came up to it, in a corner. After certain events, it would be the most ironic in this scene. The same old man who had threatened him far worse than death, had used to comfort him. A filthy piece of rag and a bundle of loose muscles was what the old man tried to give life to. He succeeded but what came forth from the womb was not what the old man intended to be. He came to it's ears and said those words that left a permanent scar on it's tired and still beating heart.
"One day, Hell does not come up to you. It will be too scared of you to get close. When that happens, you're the one who will chase it down. One day, you will look for Hell."
It's shoulders shook while pieces of laughter got up to his throat, trying to escape. The sheer craziness seeped out of those eyes and the whole scene stared at it, either with pity or outright repulse. It clutched its face, trying to stop the insanity and hold down his minds to it's roots. The shoulders heaved once but this time, nothing came out. There was nothing to get out anymore. Only emptiness and a burning feeling, making crisps of the mind that it's feeding on, remain. The rags and clothes tried to stand upright, but even in that endeavor it failed. Suddenly, that burning feeling gave off a familiar smell. A keen and lofty smell that filled it's nose. It knew how to be angry.
"You haven't seen the last of me," it whispered to the world. "Hell belongs to me."
With that, the rain poured even harder than before. The tattered piece of rags and clothes disappeared behind the curtain. Walking with a defeated aura, but looking forward for another fight. It would not give up, even when the world batter him down. It would stand, and look forward.
"That's exactly what I'm doing, old man. I'm looking for Hell. He hasn't been answering these days, so I come knocking up on his door, just telling him I'm still alive," a voice beneath the blanket of rain came from the alley opposite the car. Through the hammering of the rain, the voice still hold its volume and a sinister grin appears with the sentences, a mirth that hasn't been unleashed but held on so tightly, the air vibrates. "Why don't you go up to that big old place and wait for me. I'll be your undertaker soon enough. Old. Man."
The eyes in the car stared long and hard in the blank space where the voice originated from. He looked on as if waiting for the inevatable to occur but the happenings are far from his days. The eyes took on a menacing glare, a lion ready to pounce on his prey without any mercy. But this prey, it had something special. His preys are always helpless and by the time they realize he has his teeth around their throats, they begged for life and refused to die. But a prey is a prey, one way or the other. The teeth do not unclench when blood clench his thirst.
The rain fell down on the tin roofs, the sounds enveloped anything but anyone who walked by can feel the tingly sensation in the air. Two mighty beings are on their edge, their swords ready to be sheathed in seconds and the fight enveloped soon will tell who will be the conquer of the other. Neither side wants to be defeated and both seem ready to die to fight for his cause. The subjugation of the other.
"Last warning. You do that one more time and I'll-"
"Kill me? You know it doesn't work that way, old man."
"Do you mind if an old man wants to finish his sentences once in a while?"
"Of course. I'd give you an apology but I'm all out of it, since you're the one who took them all anyways."
"Stay down. And maybe this whole place will give you another chance to live."
The window rolled up and two lights punctured through the veil of rain. An engine roared and the car disappeared down the road. There was no numbered plate, and the model was absolutely non-existent. That car was wrought from the it's rightful owners and it stayed there like an old pair of socks. Anybody who saw it would shy away, making way for it, knowing who the owner is and the power he holds. But that power will be taken over, one way or the other. This day or the next.
The sinister smile in the alley turned into a grimace of tightly coiled whip, readied to the fullest extent to be released. It leaves a good enough bad vibe to the whole place that anyone would avoid it. In the dark, a tattered and worned rag of clothes started to move. It tried to stand but it's thin legs tripped and the face end feel down in a heap. An arm appeared, pushing the body up. It trembles, trying to push against it's own weight. It managed to get to its knees when the body suddenly hunched up and heaved. The remains of food in it's belly was gone in an instant. It pushed more with it's frail legs, trying it's hardest to stand it's tallest, to stand ready.
"I'll be damned if something like you or this place takes me over. I'd go to hell and come back with souvenirs to give out to you guys first," it said with a shaking voice. It wiped his mouth with an already dirty rag, as the rain poured down it's face. A black eye peered through the filthy long hair. The area around it was swollen. The colour of the eye was deep brown, and bags of unslept nights weighed it down. There was fire in it, a fire that has burned as long as it has breathed on this earth. It wasn't large but it was fierce enough to burn whoever gets too close to douse it out. Even the world would feel it's wrath one day.
It smiled, remembering one fine night when the same old man came up to it, in a corner. After certain events, it would be the most ironic in this scene. The same old man who had threatened him far worse than death, had used to comfort him. A filthy piece of rag and a bundle of loose muscles was what the old man tried to give life to. He succeeded but what came forth from the womb was not what the old man intended to be. He came to it's ears and said those words that left a permanent scar on it's tired and still beating heart.
"One day, Hell does not come up to you. It will be too scared of you to get close. When that happens, you're the one who will chase it down. One day, you will look for Hell."
It's shoulders shook while pieces of laughter got up to his throat, trying to escape. The sheer craziness seeped out of those eyes and the whole scene stared at it, either with pity or outright repulse. It clutched its face, trying to stop the insanity and hold down his minds to it's roots. The shoulders heaved once but this time, nothing came out. There was nothing to get out anymore. Only emptiness and a burning feeling, making crisps of the mind that it's feeding on, remain. The rags and clothes tried to stand upright, but even in that endeavor it failed. Suddenly, that burning feeling gave off a familiar smell. A keen and lofty smell that filled it's nose. It knew how to be angry.
"You haven't seen the last of me," it whispered to the world. "Hell belongs to me."
With that, the rain poured even harder than before. The tattered piece of rags and clothes disappeared behind the curtain. Walking with a defeated aura, but looking forward for another fight. It would not give up, even when the world batter him down. It would stand, and look forward.
Aug 3, 2014
Atlantica - Dream of Illusion
There were images in my head. Images stuck inside. There were screaming and blacked up images of human sized people running away from something. The monument that was toppling on top of me suddenly rose out of its roots, the statues' hands reached out to the sky and away from me. I felt a surge of air whistling around my ears, and my body weightless. I was falling. I was waiting for the hard earth to hit my back and break every single piece of my bones.
Then I woke up. My eyes darted here and there, searching, wondering what happened. The monument was gone, the sensation of falling was gone and somehow I don't even know what's actually me. I tried to move my fingers, one by one. As I tried to get up, my head shot a pain throughout my skull. I clutched it, massaging my temples. Then I realized the lights that I was seeing before this aren't from a sun. There were from the crystals around me.
Pushing my legs up, trying not to feel the spell on my head, I looked around. Tattered clothes hang on my back, and the lower thigh of my leather pants are gone, as if ripped. I massaged my neck, trying to remember what happened. But the pain of dizziness was in the way. My throat longs for water but my stomach swirled at the mention of food. I can't remember my name.
There was nothing else but to look around this place. It looked like a cave, filled with big crystals that emit light. It hurts to look at them directly. My legs move on their own as I tried to remember a single piece of memory of my life. Not even a single trickle remains in it. There was a gaping hole that is used to be filled with life. I can't remember my name.
There was no other way but to go forward. If this is a cave, then there must be an exit somewhere. It's just hard to find the real light from the sun when there's so much light from the crystals. The spell shot another hard pain throughout my head and I stumbled, caught my hand on one of the crystals. They felt like glass. Shining glass that fills my hand. It wasn't warm or cold, it felt unreal. Then I looked up and saw the big arch.
It's a portal. I don't know how I know but in my heart I realize I am looking at a portal. We used to have that everywhere in... We used to travel around in... The portal was the one method we used to travel in... I can't remember. We? Who are we? I shook my head a little, shaking off sweat eminating from my forehead. I realize that I was actually cold. A pleasant cool around my skin. But that too felt so wrapped up. There was no other way to explain it. It was as if the cool was transplant into my brain directly and not through my skin.
I walk up to the portal. Every portal has a lock. Like a door, every portal needs a key to open it. Usually, there was someone who's in charge of the key but not now. I looked around the big arch, searching for the little key. I couldn't find it. The owner of this portal must've have it with him. I don't know. I looked up the big arch, leaned on it, hoping there was a way out of this. At that moment, the arch move away from each other. I gasped and walked away. This isn't an ordinary portal.
A swirling smoke came out of the middle of the arch, small at first but soon it was as big as the arches could hold it. I expected something more. In my head, I knew there had to be more. There were supposed to be an image, a clear path that shows where the portal goes. Like a door that opens up to somewhere, a portal does the same. But the swirling went on and on. I sighed and that's when another surprise hit me.
The portals emitted light that combined themselves into words. Words that I know and yet not know at the same time. I could read it but I do not recognize the smooth edges of the words nor the pointy vertices of them. The message was direct, surprisingly. It was as if someone left it there for me. And he knew someone would come read it and made it simple. I don't know.
Then I woke up. My eyes darted here and there, searching, wondering what happened. The monument was gone, the sensation of falling was gone and somehow I don't even know what's actually me. I tried to move my fingers, one by one. As I tried to get up, my head shot a pain throughout my skull. I clutched it, massaging my temples. Then I realized the lights that I was seeing before this aren't from a sun. There were from the crystals around me.
Pushing my legs up, trying not to feel the spell on my head, I looked around. Tattered clothes hang on my back, and the lower thigh of my leather pants are gone, as if ripped. I massaged my neck, trying to remember what happened. But the pain of dizziness was in the way. My throat longs for water but my stomach swirled at the mention of food. I can't remember my name.
There was nothing else but to look around this place. It looked like a cave, filled with big crystals that emit light. It hurts to look at them directly. My legs move on their own as I tried to remember a single piece of memory of my life. Not even a single trickle remains in it. There was a gaping hole that is used to be filled with life. I can't remember my name.
There was no other way but to go forward. If this is a cave, then there must be an exit somewhere. It's just hard to find the real light from the sun when there's so much light from the crystals. The spell shot another hard pain throughout my head and I stumbled, caught my hand on one of the crystals. They felt like glass. Shining glass that fills my hand. It wasn't warm or cold, it felt unreal. Then I looked up and saw the big arch.
It's a portal. I don't know how I know but in my heart I realize I am looking at a portal. We used to have that everywhere in... We used to travel around in... The portal was the one method we used to travel in... I can't remember. We? Who are we? I shook my head a little, shaking off sweat eminating from my forehead. I realize that I was actually cold. A pleasant cool around my skin. But that too felt so wrapped up. There was no other way to explain it. It was as if the cool was transplant into my brain directly and not through my skin.
I walk up to the portal. Every portal has a lock. Like a door, every portal needs a key to open it. Usually, there was someone who's in charge of the key but not now. I looked around the big arch, searching for the little key. I couldn't find it. The owner of this portal must've have it with him. I don't know. I looked up the big arch, leaned on it, hoping there was a way out of this. At that moment, the arch move away from each other. I gasped and walked away. This isn't an ordinary portal.
A swirling smoke came out of the middle of the arch, small at first but soon it was as big as the arches could hold it. I expected something more. In my head, I knew there had to be more. There were supposed to be an image, a clear path that shows where the portal goes. Like a door that opens up to somewhere, a portal does the same. But the swirling went on and on. I sighed and that's when another surprise hit me.
The portals emitted light that combined themselves into words. Words that I know and yet not know at the same time. I could read it but I do not recognize the smooth edges of the words nor the pointy vertices of them. The message was direct, surprisingly. It was as if someone left it there for me. And he knew someone would come read it and made it simple. I don't know.
To you I send this message,
For I am the owner,
The key lies with the beast,
that flows with wings of dark.
Find three of them,
Kill three of them,
And the light shall be shown.
There was only one creature that can fly in a cave. The bats. But with this much light around, I could not tell if any bats live here. Besides, how am I going to catch these bats? I do not even have a weapon. And why does this person torment me so? If he wanted to help, he would've just left the key where it is. No. There must be a way. But I need a weapon.
My eyes caught a glint behind the arches. I walked up to see what it was. The owner did think of everything through. There was a sword, a sizeable one, with the point plunged into the ground. I took hold of it and pulled it out. Instantly, the cave went dark as night. I backed up against the wall, shocked, and ready my stance. I do not even know how to use this weapon. Or do I?
Suddenly, there was chittering. I could feel the flow of air around my skin, and this is real as it can be. Light suddenly emitted from the crystals around me but only enough for me to see. Enough for them to see as well. The bats the message was about? They were the size of eagles. I gulped as I saw them swooped around, luring me out of the corner. I kept my hands above my head as shields but soon realize that it was futile. They were scratching my arms with gashes. I could feel blood flow out. If this keeps up, I would have no way but to fight them head on. And that's the only way I could think of.
It was easy enough. They came at me one by one and all I had to do was time my slashes and soon feel the rip of flesh against the edge of my sword. I slashed out three times and each of them hits a target. I readied my stance again for more but the air was quiet. I held my guard up until I realized the crystals are glowing up again. Slowly, making my eyes adjusted to them. When I wanted to see the carcass of the bats, there was nothing but pieces of glowing crystals on the ground. These must be the key.
I picked them up and went to the portal. Now what? With one hand gripping my sword and the other holds the glittering pieces, all I could think of was to offer them to portal. The messages blurred themselves and the arches move even further apart I would think the pressure was enough to blast this cave and bring the roof down. But it held. And the pieces in my hand moved by themselves. They swirled like the portal above me and combined into a single key. It was made out of the crystals around me, for sure. It emits the same light but duller and looked more solid. I held it up to the swirling portal and touch it.
It was not a portal. I was wrong.
All I could feel at the end was the leather padded hilt of the sword and the sensation of falling. Again. I think I lost consciousness at this point. I realize I was waiting for the earth to meet my back and crash every single piece of my bones.
Jul 30, 2014
Ain't it fun?
I'm just going to leave this here.
Because Persona. That's why.
Did I mention that she looks like Lilith from BD2? Just... a lot less hotter. And she's not shooting bandits in the face.
And she also looks like that girl... in that movie where the hero from Die Hard shoots alien and stuff and the black guy from Rush Hour sounds like he lost his balls. Also in space.
Because Persona. That's why.
Did I mention that she looks like Lilith from BD2? Just... a lot less hotter. And she's not shooting bandits in the face.
And she also looks like that girl... in that movie where the hero from Die Hard shoots alien and stuff and the black guy from Rush Hour sounds like he lost his balls. Also in space.
Jul 23, 2014
Dragonsreach
I am in the inn, in Whiterun. The innkeeper, I forgot her name, got me and Sofia a bed in the upper stairs. There are sounds of merriment downstairs, while inside me I feel a very heavy storm about to strike lightning to my body. I thought my problem with the dragons are vanished after I made the report to Jarl Balgruff, but he seemed to take an interest into the dragons, where it come from and why. Soon after I begged the Jarl to send troops to Whiterun, not to mention I was assaulted by his housecarl Irileth, I thought I was quickly disposed of but the Jarl praised me before taking me to his wizard. I have no grudges against magic users but I am not one to touch anything that has been touched by the arcane.
He asked me to help Farengar, the Wizard, for his dragon project. Farengar seems to be the kind of person that I usually avoid, with that burning smell and signs of insomnia in his eyes, magic users are always deprived of sleep and always smell like burning coal mixed with flesh. However, I had no choice because it was the Jarl. If I have said no, he would've chopped my head off on that instance! He has the power and nobody would've said a thing against it. After a very brief introduction, I was shoved forward by the Jarl to face the Wizard.
It is worth mentioning here that I have no interest in Nords and their ruins. More like, I have heard stories about the dead being not so dead, and them walking around guarding the tombs. Now that bloody Wizard has charged me to go to this Bleak Falls Barrow to get some stone tablet! He explained it is a map of ancient dragon burial sites and will prove useful to discover why the dragons are coming back and why now.The ruin is near Riverwood, thank goodness it is close, and a local there should know where it is. From those words alone, I started to shake my head. Of course, the Jarl was looking at me with those stern eyes, sterner than Gerdur or Ralof gave me, so I could not do anything but nod.
Farengar was quite happy that he has a pawn to go to that dangerous place, his face seemed distracted but nevertheless, I am sure he himself wouldn't set a foot in that place. Much less someone like me. I guess Sofia is quite useful now. She seemed to be the sort that doesn't give an inch about the undead. She looks handy with a sword too. Sofia waited outside of Dragonsreach, something about not meeting the Jarl face to face with a blush. I couldn't care less. Now I wish I had someone I knew inside there.
Right now, she's busy having drinks with the men downstairs, however vulgar that sounds. I try not to drown myself into alcohol but I warned her the same. I told her about the job I have to do and she doesn't seemed perturbed by it. She still think I am an adventurer and I am going to go do chores for everyone I meet! I am not in a very good mood right now. I am tired, a little wet from the rain and I do not know how to survive this life any longer. Truth be told, I am depressed about current matters. Rebellion sparking everywhere, rumors of a murderer roaming around, and I found out that the Winterhold mages have discovered a ruin near the college. And a dragon sighted after hundreds of years of myth. Wizards and now dragons. I am telling you, Wizards and ruins in the same place is not a place that I would like to be.
Right now, all I need is some bread, cheese and a meat loaf. I couldn't resist the smell coming from the cookpot. Right now, all I want is some sleeping hours without any sorts of dream. My sword, the sword given by Gerdur, was a pitiful Iron Sword with the edges rugged and looked dull. I know little about the caring of a sword but maybe I should get a newer one, with sharper looking edges. But then, I would have a lot less gold. I should buy a better sword if I want to go and survive this barrow. Maybe Sofia can point out what weapon I should get. Maybe I should decide myself. I should train with it.
I need sleep. I am writing gibberish. Farewell world. May I survive tomorrow.
He asked me to help Farengar, the Wizard, for his dragon project. Farengar seems to be the kind of person that I usually avoid, with that burning smell and signs of insomnia in his eyes, magic users are always deprived of sleep and always smell like burning coal mixed with flesh. However, I had no choice because it was the Jarl. If I have said no, he would've chopped my head off on that instance! He has the power and nobody would've said a thing against it. After a very brief introduction, I was shoved forward by the Jarl to face the Wizard.
It is worth mentioning here that I have no interest in Nords and their ruins. More like, I have heard stories about the dead being not so dead, and them walking around guarding the tombs. Now that bloody Wizard has charged me to go to this Bleak Falls Barrow to get some stone tablet! He explained it is a map of ancient dragon burial sites and will prove useful to discover why the dragons are coming back and why now.The ruin is near Riverwood, thank goodness it is close, and a local there should know where it is. From those words alone, I started to shake my head. Of course, the Jarl was looking at me with those stern eyes, sterner than Gerdur or Ralof gave me, so I could not do anything but nod.
Farengar was quite happy that he has a pawn to go to that dangerous place, his face seemed distracted but nevertheless, I am sure he himself wouldn't set a foot in that place. Much less someone like me. I guess Sofia is quite useful now. She seemed to be the sort that doesn't give an inch about the undead. She looks handy with a sword too. Sofia waited outside of Dragonsreach, something about not meeting the Jarl face to face with a blush. I couldn't care less. Now I wish I had someone I knew inside there.
Right now, she's busy having drinks with the men downstairs, however vulgar that sounds. I try not to drown myself into alcohol but I warned her the same. I told her about the job I have to do and she doesn't seemed perturbed by it. She still think I am an adventurer and I am going to go do chores for everyone I meet! I am not in a very good mood right now. I am tired, a little wet from the rain and I do not know how to survive this life any longer. Truth be told, I am depressed about current matters. Rebellion sparking everywhere, rumors of a murderer roaming around, and I found out that the Winterhold mages have discovered a ruin near the college. And a dragon sighted after hundreds of years of myth. Wizards and now dragons. I am telling you, Wizards and ruins in the same place is not a place that I would like to be.
Right now, all I need is some bread, cheese and a meat loaf. I couldn't resist the smell coming from the cookpot. Right now, all I want is some sleeping hours without any sorts of dream. My sword, the sword given by Gerdur, was a pitiful Iron Sword with the edges rugged and looked dull. I know little about the caring of a sword but maybe I should get a newer one, with sharper looking edges. But then, I would have a lot less gold. I should buy a better sword if I want to go and survive this barrow. Maybe Sofia can point out what weapon I should get. Maybe I should decide myself. I should train with it.
I need sleep. I am writing gibberish. Farewell world. May I survive tomorrow.
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