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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
The Diamond Part 2
"If you thought you could take me on a second time Batgirl, you're very mistaken. But I have wasted enough time with you. That diamond is mine!" Harley Quinn laughed.
Batgirl could see that Harley was enjoying herself. Why shouldn't she be? Batgirl was helpless at the mercy of Harley Quinn, who defeated her all by herself. But that wasn't entirely true since Batgirl was struck down from behind. Her assailant won only through foul play!
The last time they clashed with each other, The Joker's henchwoman had help - Poison Ivy. Together they were two against one teenage girl who didn't plan on doing any heroics. She was only going out to a costume party to have some fun.
Batgirl tried to pull her hands which were bound behind her back. It was no use. She could feel the rope (going down from her wrists) pulling at her ankles. She couldn't move her feet either. Her feet were bound together and secured to the frontal chair legs.
"I admire your dedication, Batgirl. But there's nothing y
Es ist nicht leicht ein (Super-)Held zu seinDie Sonne ging über den hohen Wolkenkratzern von Rʼlyeh-City auf. Ihre goldenen Strahlen brachen sich an den Umrissen der dunklen metallischen Riesen die mit ihren Spitzen nach dem Himmel strebten. Doch niemand sah den kleinen dunklen Punkt auf der höchsten Spitze des höchsten Gebäudes, dessen nebelhafter schwarzer Schleier sich beharrlich gegen den grauenden Morgen sträubte.
Auf der Spitze stand ein junger Mann in Schatten gehüllt mit verquollenen Augen. Obwohl dies einer der schönsten Sonnenaufgänge seines Lebens war, konnte er sein schwermütiges Herz nicht erfreuen. Niemand wollte ihn als Superheld haben und so sah er keinen anderen Ausweg als den Freitod.
Mit weitausgebreiteten Armen ließ er sich nach hinten fallen und sah wie sich die Spitze des Hochhauses rasend schnell entfernte.
Während der Wind um ihn herum heulte und die künstliche Finsternis der Stadt ihn verschlang, drang an seine Ohren eine Stimme aus der Ver
Donikad, albo na koniec swiata. Swego czasu po większych miastach pewnej aglomeracji jeździł tramwaj "donikąd" jak głosił napis na tablicy. Był biały i nie zatrzymywał się na żadnym przystanku. Ludzie dla "fanu" próbowali go zatrzymać, jednak zawsze bez skutku, tramwaj nigdy, nikomu się nie zatrzymał. Krąży jednak legenda o dziewczynie, której ta sztuka udała się. I to w dodatku nieświadomie.
Była ciepła, sierpniowa noc, jaśniejąca od miejskich świateł. Ruch na ulicach już zamarł i kursowały jedynie już linie nocne. Pewna blond włosa dziewczyna ubrana w białą sukienkę stała na przystanku i wyglądała jak zjawa. Wiatr bawił się jej lokami tworząc fantazyjne fryzury ulotne jak on sam. Dziewczyna raz, po raz odgarniała włosy z szczupłej twarzy i starała się
Sentinel Inspector Horace looked at the young boy through the one-sided glass. Julian was thirteen years old, the report said. Looking at him, the inspector wouldn’t have guessed that such a case was currently against him. Aside from his young age, the boy possessed an innocent charm – brown, shaggy hair atop a pleasant face although his deep brown eyes hint at a seriousness so rarely seen on a boy so young. Further investigation showed that Julian was a straight-A student and although not the stereotypical popular boy, his mild and easygoing demeanor had earned him a boy-next-door reputation. Religious, helpful, friendly—definitely not someone who’ll be thought of as a cold-blooded killer.
Even now, after the questions had been hurled at him, Julian looked alert, not fatigued like others would have been in his position. The accusation against him was complex but he looked as if he was just waiting
A traitors alphabet"After all we've been through you still try to defy me." Benjy looked at Trevor, who was tied to a chair in his living room, with immense disappointment.
"Come on Benjy, you know it's not like that. Dianne and I were just hanging out."
"Enough!" Furious; Benjy walked over to the cupboard, reached over to the handle, and stopped. "Gary followed you that night, he told me everything"
"He'd do anything to get his job back, you know that"
"I do know that, that's why I got rid of him for good this time. Jack's feeding him to his dogs as we speak."
"'Kay, so why am I here. Look this isn't needed."
"Most of the time; if one of my ex workers turns back up; I ensure that it doesn't happen again and that'll be the end of it. Not this time."
Opening the cupboard appears to be a great struggle for Benjy, but he manages to open it enough for Dianne's pale head to roll out of it towards and stopping at the feet of Trevor.
"'Please Benjy' she kept saying, 'it'll never happen again'. 'Queer' I thought
UntitledI've been following you,
I listen to your conversation with your family and friends.
I watch you study and feed the kitten that I gave you.
I can smell the jasmine perfume lurking 'round your neck.
When you eat at the garden of our school, I wonder of the taste of the food you cooked.
I want to call your name.
I want to touch you your cold cheeks and wipe your tears away every night at this road.
I want to warm you with my hug.
But I guess that will just give you chills.
No matter how near I am to you,
I still cannot reach you.
I shall be off to somewhere by now but here I am beside you.
I'm really sorry.
Please don't be sad anymore.
Every time a tear drops from your eyes, my heart is stabbed.
Free yourself from this sorrow.
You are here breathing.
You can't be stuck here with me forever.
I also do not want to let go of this string...it makes me sad,
But I must go,
And you should move on.
Consider this string that continues to exist as a precious memory.
The Runner Who was he? He held no recollection of himself. Whomever the answer, he was injured. Panting, he lay in the dirt, bleeding from his wounds. He had heard no sound, whatever got him attacked without warning, and he had no idea what it was. He was out of breath and wheezing, constricted by what he felt were broken ribs, and he was running. Running away, running towards, or just running, he didn't have the faintest of ideas.
Looking down and seeing the dark red liquid form around his left leg was all he needed to get his adrenaline past the breaking point. He couldn't afford to stop. Feverishly, and in pain, he struggled to his feet. Almost before he was up, he was limping painfully with one leg while the other struggled to keep pace.
His mind raced over any possible clues as to what was happening. He had no memory, no understanding of himself, but, as he noticed, he knew everything there was to know about the universe. He could see forwards and backwards in tim
MGM Gate - 1 (Part 7)
6:45 pm, later on that evening:
Mary Fertile drove up to the zoo after seeing the boys leave for dinner at a local restaurant. The four closed the menagerie leaving on all the chandeliers. Mary saw clearly that they were going to be back.
With her high speed camera hung around her neck she started to climb the gate that took her into the zoo. The scenery gave the term Animal Kingdom new meaning. The zoo had a city of Zinji type look about it. The zoo was beautiful, one would think that they were stepping on to the ark, or, on to one of the ships of Tarshish.
Mary started to walk about. After peering into each exhibit she passed she became more and more disappointed over the fact that there was no animals. It disappointed her so much, she felt like walking straight out the back door.
When Mary got to the back of the menagerie she begun to squint at the center habitat. Her eyes became open as she was taking in all of its greenery. Mary took one step back, relaxed then went "Hmm," as in a
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
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