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Blue RoutineThe days fell into an unsteady routine for young Amalie.
The weekends were spent in diligent study under master smith Zahid, he gave her books to read, plans to study and plenty of hard work shovelling coals and moving red hot metal. Each day ended with her exhausted and covered in tiny burns. Then her week became difficult.
Five days of every seven, Amalie spent utterly alone.
At first Amalie tried to make friends, she introduced herself to other girls as they gossipped about each other or spoke of boys. But they would just ignore her, she tried again and again until finally the girls would leave as one, or turn and stare her down until she left them.
The boys were no nicer, when she tried to befriend them they laughed, they called her names, and they insulted her lowborn status. Amalie learned to stop trying, and so they stopped paying attention to her. When she sat in class, the desks around her remained empty, when she walked the halls teachers and students alike moved a safe dista
Blue NailThe smithy was an inferno.
Every kiln, pit and furnace was ablaze. Zahid, master blacksmith moved with a slow grace, he never hurried yet he seemed to be everywhere at once. Everywhere short rods of iron heated awaiting their turn on the anvil. A table filled with rough horseshoe blanks sat cooling beside the barrel that would eventually hold them all. Several ceramic pots of iron bubbled away, the sand moulds ready to receive the refined metal and form it into rods.
“Today Amalie you learn what it means to work”. He said, timing his words to the pauses in his strikes as he hammered a rod flat.
“I'm going to make horseshoes and swords?” She asked.
“Not just yet. You cannot work the metal until you have learned what the metal is.” He said as he quenched the now flattened pole in a barrel of water.
“Isn't metal metal?” She asked him as steam billowed towards the open door.
“Iron can be as brittle as glass, as dependable as the sun, ma
Blue FeatherAmalie was woken from the monsters in her nightmares by the ringing of Geralds bell. She quickly woke and dressed, making sure to tuck her red hair under her headscarf, ready for her next class. Amalie had no idea what to expect from the class, it was called channelling so she had high hopes that this class would have actual magic in it not just history lessons and breathing exercises. As usual Chancy hovered around Amalie making certain she didn't interfere with the other students, Amalie was slowly learning how to ignore her presence and her murderous glares.
Chancy pulled Amalie aside and explained to her were channelling class was, then she checked Amalies black headscarf to see if any errant strands of foul red hair were peeking out.
“After the class ends you will be expected to study in the yard until supper, I don't want you here bothering the other students and interrupting their work. Understand? Stay outside and don't make trouble or I will give you the switch.” T
Blue CaneAmalie woke to a terrible pounding on her half door. She crawled from her straw mat and fumbled in the dark to open the latch. Gerald's boot nearly collided with her face.
As soon as the door was open a wrapped bundle was thrown at her.
“Your things. Don't be late for class. And wear that headscarf to cover your shame girl.” He said before ringing his morning bell, signalling breakfast.
Amalie quickly lit her candle and opened the grey bundle. Inside was a thin book, a note with some numbers and names on it, and an old ink pen and powder. The scarf smelled of Chancy's cheap perfume. Amalie hastily donned her grey robe, wrapped her hair as best she could in the grey headscarf that had held the items and scurried out for breakfast.
Today Amalie did not mind being alone in a corner of the table, the other childrens indifference to her was forgotten, she ate her fill and did her best not to bounce from her chair with excitement. As the children filed out and the servants began
Blue ManThe moon was a tiny crescent in the sky, pale light doing little to illuminate the grounds of the Magi academy. A lone figure in long black robes skulked along the outer wall, darting from shadow to shadow. He held a handful of pale moss, its blood red light barely noticeable among the roses growing over the ancient stone wall.
Every so often the figure would stop and glance about, eyes hidden by the black hood, the figure would lick his lips and mumble to itself in a raspy shallow voice as it did.
It took some time but the figure finally managed to navigate the shadows, avoiding the few lazy guards about uncertain why any would attack a mage. It circled a section of wall between two old pines, their mottled and sagging branches concealing this section from prying eyes.
The figure glanced about a few more times, its head shaking back and forth erratically. At last, satisfied that it was alone the figure pressed some stones, mumbled some words and let forth a gentle light from its black
Eyes open lungs scream out
the first breath
already restless you move fast to crawl
fast to walk
Legs stir the dusty road
each step familiar
these roads you walked many times
yearning for yet more
Your mind fills with visions
worlds beyond this pale place
where your mind lives now
She loves you as much as
you love the imagined worlds
love cannot hold you down
Feet ache worse with every step
each one a sweeter agony
stopping is real pain
Your soul soars with each new sight
greater than any imagined in your youth
the world is a wonder with more to see
Do your eyes grow heavy from the view
This world shrinks with every step
monotonous horizons yet more you must see
Far have you walked can you not rest?
You have seen all what could you seek?
Do you not know what your heart yearns?
I know what you seek come to me
I can tell you why you must go
To me to me just a little further
You die so clos
Blue DustAmalies muscles ached with a familiar tension, and her stomach rumbled as she thought about her supper. She was contented, when she had learned she would be working with a blacksmith as her chores she had been worried, but the work was simple and the smith was very kind.
Amalie walked in the front door to her dorm, the one for students attuned to Air, the heady scent of roast chicken and steamed vegetables wafted towards her from the dining room. Amalie hurried her pace, she was right on time and ready for food, when she arrived at the door she was disappointed.
Before her servants were cleaning the tables, dishes were piled high and buckets of soapy water were being filled. Chancy, the mistress of the girls stood tapping her foot, a smug look on her face as she watched Amalie.
“Oh, my, it seems you missed supper girl.” She said in her thick, fake, posh accent.
“But you said supper was in three hours? It's only been three hours.” Amalie dared to accuse.
Blue SmokeAmalie laughed like she hadn't in almost a year. Here she was in the Academy of the Magi in Iacet city. When she had first learned she had magic in her blood, it had been a death sentence, it meant banishment from her peasant home into a murderous wilderness. The journey had been hard and filled with treacherous people and beasts, she stumbled into this city by chance. She had survived, she had struggled and now she was here where normally only nobles were allowed, all her troubles were over. Or so she thought.
Downstairs in the dormitory of the students of air the caretakers and the Seer of the guild were arguing.
“She sullies our dorm with her presence Seer, give her to the Aether dorm, they are used to having talentless students there. We are air, powerful and proud, and not filled with filthy lazy peasants!” Shouted Chancy, her fake posh accent slipping with her indignant ranting.
“How could I ever face the Chancellor or the other mistresses with her in my rooms!&
Blue SchoolAmalie entered the compound that housed the Academy of the Magi and the guild tower. Black gates clicked shut behind her, the Seer, leader of the guild chapter, continued forwards ignorant of the four men before him; the initiate, two mages and the chancellor. He was lost in thought, he only stopped when he bumped into the dour Chancellor, leader of the Academy.
“Huh?” He said, startled. “Sorry Reggy.” He apologized to the chancellor.
“Never mind that, why did you just drag a peasant child into our compound?” He asked.
“Hmm? Oh Amalie. Her name is Amalie she is a magi, she wants to become a mage.” he replied, confused by the Chancellors confusion.
“Seer, she can't be a magi if she is a peasant, you know this. I will send her back.” he said in tones reserved for children.
“No, she is a magi, she can stay if she wants to, and she wants to.”
“Clearly she is a peasant, look at her red hair, a clear sign of her in
~Pasado oscuro, Juegos de la Mafia~Cap12
Capitulo 12° : No quiero esto!!! ; Comienzan los Juegos.
No se lo que paso antes....no lo se..solo recuerdo que mi respiración volvía a salir de mis pulmones, que mi cabeza me martillaba con imágenes e voces, que también pedían lo peor¿por que....que se supone que es esto?"-Fionna¿no lo sabes?¡SOMOS UNA MAQUINA DE MATAR!" recordé..esa voz, es idéntica a la mía solo que, sus intenciones eran tan oscuras como el tinte de esa voz, tuve miedo, tenía miedo que "ella" volviera..la recuerdo ahora, antes sus crueles y spisicopatas palabras, me acompañaban en esa celda en la que me encontraba presa, en aquel lugar, donde tanto daño me hicieron, donde siento que gracias a "ellos" algo importante..muy importante olvide, ademas de habérmelo arrebatado
...yo..¡Yo No Seré Lo Que Es Voz Me Dice!..no quiero..por favor, por favor...te lo ruego, no me....no me obligues a
Except me - Greninja(contains vore, theres your warning.)
It was a warm summer evening as the sun made its last appearance in the day and vanished from the minds and hearts of the populace for another eight hours, as it would make another cycle and another for many, many more decades to come.
Alone on a small beach, were two figures. One was a young human girl, the other, her loyal Greninja, whom she had received a few years back when she first started traveling Kalos. The pair were known to be inseparable and it was thought that if they could, they would be one. No matter if it were physical or metaphorical, they, and everyone who knew them, could tell that was a fact.
The Greninja, whom had been named Hideaki, had an idea about how to do such a thing, which he was planning to put into practice in this quiet beach. He stayed close to his girl, named Jenny, and kept a close watch out.
Soon, the sun had set and the moon came up, only slightly illuminating the pair. It didn't matter.
Hideaki slowly stopped
-hetalia sleeping with sheep help-
hetalia sleeping with sheep project.
for you who don't know or do know.
The sleeping with sheep CD is a hetalia CD from the series.
It portrays the countries putting you and other countries to bed by counting sheep.
Now these are completely in Japanese. And while they still sound amaze,
it would be nice if some of us could plug in our ipods and not have to turn them on to read subtitles.
this is where, you the viewer come in
we need people who would be willing to dub.
this is purely for communities sake so im sorry but i cant give you anything in return.
now, for the voices i need for now im pretty sure i need:
that's all i got for now
here are examples of the tracks
Not always with a smile Calles was so proud of himself. He just couldn’t stop staring at his chest,which was now big enough to start protecting it. It doesn’t really mattered for him what’s inside,the important thing was it’s big,and full of the stuffs he must’ve collected. The only thing,which made him sad was,that he couldn’t brag about it to noone.When he started to talk about his treasure chest to someone,they turned away from him. Oh,well,whatever,he still has what he needs for a life long. Suddenly a weird instinct told him to get the little thing out from his treasure chest,which Samusagi gave him. He was still curious what was it. He examined it,looked at it,but magical stuffs were still weird for him,so he simply threw it back,and closed the chest.
Calles went to classes,but when he pushed his hands in his pocket,next to his talisman there was the golden brooch,he got from Samusagi. He took it out with a shock
Innocent as she appeared to be, she bit her tongue about the heinous sight she had once seen as a creature so young. In her younger years, she was petrified of this monster, and she kept it locked in her treasure chest as if it would destroy everything that she had worked up for. What will her parents say? A monster? What nonsense. She should know better than to make up myths that have no relevant place amongst society.
Yet there she laid, all stiff and frantic eyes searching ever so closely for the sign of life. She needed to prove that she was not crazy. She needed to prove that the monster was not in her mind this time but in her room, where it could snatch and turn her fragile body into nothing but ash and dust. Even in her slumber was she conscious of her eerie bedroom. She listened ever so closely. She waited for the crackle of bones, the heart dropping sound of its slimy legs thumping on the hard, fridge, wooden floor. The atmosphere did not drop unless it made its presen
Auf der SucheEs ist dunkel. Mein Kopf tut weh. Es fühlt sich so an, als hätte eine Elefantenherde in meinem Kopf Disko getanzt. Können Elefanten überhaupt tanzen? Ich liege auf hartem Boden. Verkehrsgeräusche dringen an mein Ohr. Ich reiße die Augen auf. Ich liege doch nicht etwa, mitten auf der Straße? Vorsichtig schiele ich nach rechts und links und stoße ein erleichtertes Seufzen aus. Nein. Ich liege auf einem Bürgersteig. Deshalb ist der Boden also so hart. Asphalt. Ich schaue nach oben, zum dunkelblauen Himmel. Kein einziger Stern ist zu sehen.
Die Straßenlaterne, welche sechs Meter neben mir steht, flimmert in einem gelblichen Licht. Langsam versuche ich mich aufzurichten. Behutsam rolle ich mich auf die Seite und probiere mich mit den Händen vom Boden abzustützen. Dieses Vorhaben scheint mir nicht so recht zu gelingen, denn statt den Boden zu berühren, stützt sich meine rechte Hand mit halbem Körpergewicht
Mysterion Rises (Preview)Craig awoke to the sound of a heart monitor, the slow steady beep ringing in his ears. He looked around the run down room, noting that he was, in fact, in a hospital. The apathetic boy stood and exited the room. To his realization, he had grown substantially; from what he could tell, he was about 18. How long had it been since he was placed in this hospital? He could find out later, at the moment there were more pressing matter, Craig needed some clothes, he couldn't run around clad only in a hospital gown. The tall boy wondered through the halls, looking for just about anything to dress himself in. Eventually he came upon some camouflage pants shoes, socks, boxers, a black shirt and a baggy grey sweatshirt. After putting on the clothing he departed from the almost post-apocalyptic looking building. South park was in ruins, dead bodies scattered the ground and smoke rose from some of the buildings. Before Craig could get a good glimpse of his now destroyed home town, someone tackled hi
One NightAs I lie in bed, the nightlight casting long shadows across the walls, I can't help being scared.
I hear a fierce prairie storm approaching, thundering hooves upon the warm spring air. Then the rain starts. Huge battering rams against the windows; echoing with each pounding strike.
Streaks of lightning burn across the sky incinerating the air above our house, their light blinding me through tightly closed lids.
Serpents and spiders leap at me from the momentary blackness after each bolt of lightning before my vision returns. Branches sway in the howling, snarling wind, crashing against the house; relentlessly, unceasingly they hammer away at the siding, frail protection from what lurks outside.
But it isn't the demonic storm outside, Mother Nature's raw fury, no; it is what lurks in the dark inside that I fear most.
The closet door creaks open with each gust of raging wind, the power dims and the nightlight flickers, then winks out. Suddenly all is dark, the silence is deafening as flo
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More