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m e m o i r s - Shrii's 100 Drabbles - 7/100. B> Editor
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I was poking around the Literature forum after just joining, when I found out about drabbles. I’ve never heard of drabbles before – and from what I’ve seen so far they look like a lot of fun ^^! I love to write and make a habit to do so for at least 15 minutes every night to help better my grasp on English since it’s not my first. So after much slaving over Microsoft word and hair ripping I made my own 100 theme list and want to give it a shot xD. You’re welcome to use my list if you want, just credit me ^^. I’m not going to set a certain character or style for my drabbles. I’m going to treat them just as I do my 15 minuet free write, and just do whatever comes to mind. Odds are though, that a lot of them will feature some of my OC’s. If you have a comment or feedback on anything, feel free to PM me or even post In the thread (I don’t mind). Anywho! Time to give this beasty a try! Btw: I'm so buying an editor D=. |
Updates
Just adding this section here for my own sanity. It’ll help me keep track of things I’ve completed. Even if I’m bolding things out on the list my eyes tend to skip xD. I might also add more things, like OC profiles if I decided to use my OC’s a lot. Newest ---> Oldest Quote:
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The List - Completed Drabbles will be bolded and blue.
1. Within 2. Zephyr 3. Demons 4. Magic 5. Passion 6. Forbidden Love 7. Sunrise 8. Sunset 9. Life 10. Death 11. Piano 12. Ghost 13. Memories 14. Midnight 15. Banishment 16. A White Rose 17. Lust [Luxuria] 18. Gluttony [Gula] 19. Greed [Avaritia] 20. Sloth [Acedia] 21. Wrath [Ira] 22. Envy [Invidia] 23. Pride [Superbia] 24. Chastity 25. Abstinence 26. Liberality 27. Diligence 28. Patience 29. Kindness 30. Humility 31. Anticipation 32. Storm 33. Out to drift 34. Lost 35. Abandoned 36. Forgiveness 37. A Stranger 38. The Outsider 39. Lullaby 40. No More Mr. Nice Guy 41. The Nightmare 42. Lucky Penny 43. I dare you 44. Embrace 45. The Morning After 46. Moonlight 47. Delicious 48. Sweet 49. Sour 50. Strawberries and Whipped Cream 51. Deception 52. Learn to do it! 53. Somewhere 54. Stand my ground 55. Enchanted Forest 56. Innocence 57. Muse 58. Biting 59. Rebirth 60. Phantom 61. Opera 62. The Siren 63. Heaven 64. Hell 65. Paradise 66. Purgatory 67. Knight in Shining armor 68. Kilt 69. Turtle Grinf (CH Termonology lol xD) 70. Prey 71. Shh! I’m polishing my wood! 72. Incantation 73. Glisten 74. Photograph 75. Mutiny 76. Feather 77. Snow 78. Buttons 79. Breeze 80. Candlelight 81. Handcuffs 82. Music Box 83. Sidhe 84. Toppled Vase 85. Fued 86. Companion 87. Highwayman 88. The Pendent 89. Charms 90. Splat 91. Blind 92. Explosion 93. Weird Science 94. Choices 95. Silence 96. The Red Door 97. Wonderland 98. The Letter T (Start every Line with a T, Since it's the first letter in my name xD) 99. Broken Doll 100. Farewell |
Drabble #15: Banishment
Character: Sain, OC of mine that I RP as once and awhile. Setting: After disobeying his mother of the high-courts for the umpteenth time by interfering with mortals, he's finally punished XD. ((It needs editing D=.)) The Fallen Prince Pitter. Patter. Pitter. Patter… Not a single silvery strand of blessed moonlight dared to peek through the dark clouds to grace the battle torn meadow. The darkness did nothing to hide the glimmer of bloodstained armor and weaponry that lay scattered across the field. Rain, angry and punishing beat down against the earth in a harsh rhythm – in its path mixing still warm blood with now tainted soil. Amongst the forever stilled chaos stood a lone figure, beautiful in destruction. He was hunched over slightly gripping the hilt of a large broadsword. The blade was buried deep into the ground and held with a white knuckled grip to support his weight as his other hand gripped his side tightly. His long hair was a dark drape, shrouding his face from view. “Damnit!” Cursing out loud, he pressed his hand tighter against the wound at his side. Blood oozed out in warm slippery streams from between his fingers, coating them and dripping to the ground to pool in the muddied puddle at his feet. In over his seventy-five thousand years of existence he couldn’t even remotely remember the last time somebody had, had the fortune or misfortune as he would put it to draw his blood. The warm crimson liquid that seeped from his being felt odd and foreign to him. “She did it… she seriously, did it.” For a brief moment as realization dawned on him, surprise was evident in his voice. Removing his hand from his side he held it out in front of him. Turning it this way and that he studied the bright redness of his own blood with something akin to curiosity. After a few moments he let his hand drop limply to his side. 'How could she do this to him? HOW. Take away his lively hood as she had and leave him banished to this wasteland.' The thought bitterly ran through his mind, and in that instant all feelings of surprise and curiosity where washed away with vivid hot rage. Throwing his head back to glare furiously at the sky – his silver eyes flashed fiercely. With a snarl, viscous in nature he cried out to the bleak darkness above and around him. “Alright mother, you’ve had your fun. Return me to my power at once!” When a few moments passed and the only sound to be heard was a crack of thunder far off in the distance his eyes widened then narrowed; mirroring the darkness and hatred in his soul for what had become of him. His worse fear had been realized. Sain, Prince of the fae was truly, utterly, and devastatingly human. |
Drabble #51: Deception
The bitter lie that resides upon your tongue The vicious bile that spews from your lips Ceasing my breath, holding it tight in my lungs, Your filth flowing from you, contaminating my life, A tempest of agony splitting my mind Caused by your self indulgence of mental crime, Sound of your laugh and visions of your come hither smile Send unwanted chills down my spine, Memories of an unforgettable well acted and false time Your promises that you'd always be mine Were nothing more then a fanciful rhyme In your award winning staged play Designed to hide the monster that resided behind the mask, Was all of this part of your story? Your masterpiece of scripted art That told of my fallen glory, my failed benevolence My fatal tragedy, Were we all just your pawns In this loveless game built on self gain? Part of your bittersweet lie Caressed only to be graced with your serpents kiss, Your endless creed Your deception divine. |
Drabble #45: The Morning After
Characters: Elessedil and Rishiri. Elessedil is an OC of mine, and is Sain's younger sister. Rashiri is my old RP partners OC, who was constantly played with Eless. ((This needs editing as well lmao xD.)) The early morning sun peeked in through the cracked section of curtains to embrace both the sleeping occupants curled up on the large bed. The scene in itself was oddly lovely considering that the two very different beings had been arguing so viciously the day before. It was funny how things could turn out. One would think after seeing or hearing them in the last couple of days that they would not want to be around one another, least of all in the same bed. Fate had a funny way of playing with her pawns, bringing them through many twist and turns - deciding to humor herself by causing the two to of them to fall asleep clinging to one another unconsciously. As the spell began to fade just like the waning darkness, the figure with hair the color of blood began to stir from her position. Her hair was sprawled across the pillow, and partially over the others chest covering his hand on her back and hers that was curled lightly upon his chest. A few strands caught the dim light of the sun and shined as bright as flame. The royal blue covers and silk black sheets were kicked back a bit exposing one slender pale leg tossed over the top of the others darker ones. Chest heaving silently in even slow breaths that only now began to change as consciousness dawned. Elessedil had never in her life felt so content before. So as a moth to an irresistible flame she did what any common sensed being would do in her situation, she drew closer and savored that warmth. Of course she was still unawares as to what that warmth was. She was weighed down by a gentle pressure on her back and could faintly hear the sound of even breaths. After several minuets her mind numbly registered that the breaths were not her own. In that moment she realized that her head was resting against something warm yet hard, while her nose was being tickled slightly by some foreign object that felt strangely like hair. Her lids fluttered once, twice, and then opened. She blinked a few times to adjust to the morning light and wipe away the blurry hazy view from her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that she was sprawled partially atop a dark chest… a male chest. Who… She racked her brain and couldn’t recall anything that would have lead to this. The only thing she remembered was curling up before the fire in the lounge and reading, nothing else. Painstakingly slow she lifted her head looking up to discover the identity of her ‘companion’. The moment her eyes met the serene countenance of Rashiri, his hair spread across the pillow behind his head looking like some pagan god from a fairy tale, her eyes widened. Her heart stopped beating in her chest, her mouth moved but no sound emitted from the parted lips. In utter shock and confusion she stared down at the still sleeping prince, wondering what on earth he was doing in her bed. Wondering even more what they had been doing in that particular bed. |
Drabble #13: Memories
Characters: Elessedil, Rashiri, and Zafeer. Setting: Sain and Elessedil are both fighting for the power of the High-Courts. In other words, trying to kill each other, or put the other out of the picture. ((T_T Typo's galore.)) "Is that her belongings on the bed, Rashiri?" the large man asked, taking a few steps toward the box and bag, but deciding against it at the last moment and turning toward his friend. Rashiri quickly spun around, walking over to the bed. His eyes fell on the box, and his fingers softly brushed over its smooth surface. "I was thinking about giving some of the non-violent ones back. She has what I believe is a journal, it has never been written in." "Perhaps you should give that to the librarian. There might be more to it than we can see. As for the rest, I don't think you should let her have it either. She's different Rashiri. Strange. Several of the other guards fear her." "I do not fear her. She fights for her freedom, that is--" "She fights, Rashiri. She fights. She will not stop fighting. You have made a poor choice for a slave, and--" with this, Zafeer silenced himself. It was then that he realized what he had done- questioned Rashiri's decisions. Truly expecting a death threat, or even to have to fight his friend yet again, he found himself surprised to only receive an annoyed glance. Something truly was changing in this man... and it seemed to be for the better. The outburst that followed was bordering enraged, the sheer contempt in the words forcing Zafeer on edge. "Do you know why I bought her? You're right, I went in for a servant girl and came out with a runner for three times the price of a normal slave, knowing it would happen Zafeer. I had to. Like you said, she is different. I have spent the last six years working with pirates, murderers, and.. slavers. The slavers may truly be the worst of the bunch. They will do all they can to break the will of a new slave, they think it's some sick game, a cheap thrill. You know that. I could not stand by and think of her having some slob force himself on her day in and out until she submitted to his will, and with one such as her they would not be content to stop with submission." In the hallway Elessedil reached up and muffled a gasp so that the two men would not be aware of her ease dropping. Something very unlikely for the Sidhe Heiress to do. His words stunned her, causing her breath to halt within her chest. Her tri-colored eyes were widened and her hand that rested against the wall behind her clenched into a tight fist and whitened at the knuckles. The sound of her pulse rung through her ears with each heavy beat of her heart against her chest. Since the beginning, she had thought him nothing more than an arrogant, good for nothing pain in her neck that she couldn’t wait to kill and be done with to move on her merry way back to the courts. She was wrong; sure he might be a bit arrogant, hard to cooperate with and to get along with as well, but- he wasn’t as cruel as she first thought he would be. He was nothing like her old ‘owner.’ Cringing at the memory of that foul pig from her past, she bit her lip at the sudden wave of nausea that assaulted her. It had been about 600 some years ago. She had decided to go visit the main court of Fairy with one of her companions. Somewhere along the way they had been jumped and instantly entrapped with magic prohibitory [steel] by a band of highwaymen most likely commissioned by that wretch of a brother Sain, and then sold for measly prices at a slave auction. Shayne, her friend had been lucky and bought by an honest man who gave her the choice to stay with him or go back to the courts, she suprisingly chose to stay. Elessedil on the other hand - didn’t have such luck. Her buyer was a pert man about 5’9, more gut then muscle and had a constant air of cruelty around him. Being brought back to his establishment she had been given orders within a few minutes of arriving. Her days were spent in the main house working hard, scrubbing the floor in which he purposely walked on, feeding him, and even so much as turning pages in a book for him. At night she spent her time in a cold damp storage room, in a dungeon that smelt of waste and and animal droppings. She had cursed the fates for whatever had caused this to happen. The moment she got out of here she would burn the house and then hunt down those who had trapped her and Shayne in the first place. Not to mention put an End to Sain and his never ending greed and lust for power that could only be obtained on her death. She had been dusting the book shelf’s in a large office one night when the wretch of a man came up behind her, placing a filthy clammy hand on her chest. Appalled she had sent her foot slamming into his and her elbow into his side. With a snarl she had tossed him aside and into the far wall. She would not be manhandled in such away. In punishment she had taken quite a lashing, but she survived after all she was immortal, and just before leaving she had snuck a gold plated letter opener into her sleeve. Later that night when the guard had fallen asleep on duty - as he usually did at thats hour, she removed the letter opener from her sleeve. Scooting over to one of the bars holding the door shut she began to dig around the base, loosening it so that she could eventually remove it quietly. All was going well until the sound of footsteps sounded down the hall. Quickly scooting back to the far wall, she shoved the letter opener under the flea ridden blanket in the corner. As her owner came into view sputtering at the guard, ordering him to leave, she groaned. This was not what she needed at the time. His frame took up the whole of the cells entrance as he hoarsely snapped her name. She could remember quirking a brow at him, but she couldn’t remember the cocky comment she had made that caused him to toss her to the ground. Her head had smacked hard against the dirtied stone ground and her vision blurred for a few moments as she lay stunned. At a tugging sensation at the ties on her shirt brought her back into realization she fiercely swatted at his grubby hands. When his lips crashed into hers it took all she could muster not to vomit right then and there. He continued to try and wrestle her clothing off, a bit sloppily. Apparently he couldn’t ‘kiss’ and undress at the same time. Frantically she reached under the blanket. Her hand groped around until she found the hilt of the letter opener. Biting down hard on his lip until a faint taste of metallic blood flooded her senses, he reared up with a shriek. Taking the opportunity, without a blink of an eye she lashed up and drew the golden letter opener across the dark column of his throat. He fell to the floor, and was dead within the hour. She had left the manor quickly and quietly but not before turning back to it and invoking the words that set the ground rumbling and splitting to engulf the house. As the memories faded the last thing that crossed her mind was the fact that it had taken 3 days to remove the thick steel band around her ankle that prohibited her magic. |
Drabble #98: The Letter T
Note: The goal is to start every line with the letter T, since it's the first letter of my name xD. The whispering wind caresses skin Tickling my senses with happiness, Thoughts awaken my hungry sin Taunting my willfulness with bitterness Teasing all abandoned life within Terrorizing my breathing to fullness, Tell me sadly of pass of men, Tender life rippling in loneliness, Torn pages of dying life, crying kin, Tales softening speak singing of madness Tempting dreams, thinking of wishes been, Tunes playfully call sadly my weakness Tells many a story not written, Time consumes my fantasies to stillness. |
Drabble #72: Incantation
Note: Instead of writing about some sort of scene with an incantation, I decided to make up my own xD. Since they are short I wrote two of them and will include a little description on each. I know they’re kinda cheesy, but most spell incantations that you read in books are D=. Incantation One: This incantation causes all past wounds to reappear on the victim as if they were just gotten. The wounds will only heal when the spell is called off. For example say the spell is cast on an immortal cleric that was over 200 years old. All the wounds that were ever gotten in his/her 200 years of life would reappear as if they had just received them. Let it be a needle poke, a sword stab threw the gut, or even a broken nose. Flesh of flesh Blood of man Cut the skin Don’t let it mend Break the cycle Cause and end Flow through old wounds As if brand new Let crimson fall To meet thy doom Incantation Two: This incantation summons a cold bluish tinted flame in the casters hands or around their being. The flame itself is cold as ice and has no heat whatsoever. Anything that touches it slowly withers and dies as if all of it’s lifespan is sucked dry. An example would be if a hand was thrust into the flame it would begin to age, and whither down to the bones until eventually all that is left is a pile of ash. Inforno di notte Whither and rot The killing flame Cold fire of the art Cleanse thou presence And leave naught Inforno di notte Whither and rot |
Um what is this thread about?
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It's a drabble thread. More information on theme can be found here: http://www.menewsha.com/viewtopic.php?t=11195.
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I read Banishment/Fallen Prince.
You have really lovely imagery. D: I'm jealous. And English isn't you first language, either? Wow. I could give critique, but if you're not aiming for that, I don't really need to say anything. I'm not an expert at language. I only have little opinions and notes on how I would have worded or wrote something a little differently. >>; You know what, since I'll probably forget by next time, I'll write the critiques down but feel free to ignore them and don't take them for popular truth. Definately do not do that. XD;; -------------------------------- No silvery strand of blessed moonlight dared to peek through the dark clouds to grace the battle torn meadow. I think it would flow better if you wrote, "Not a single silvery strand of blessed moonlight dared to peek through [...]". It feels more correct to me. Rain, angry and punishing; beat down against the earth in a harsh rhythm- in its path mixing still warm blood with now tainted soil. I think there are punctuation (& 1 grammatical) errors in there, unless this is supposed to be a style of writing. Otherwise: "Rain, angry and punishing, beat down against the earth in a harsh rhythm; in its path, mixing still warm blood with now tainted soil." "Damnit!" Cursing out loud he pressed his hand tighter [...]" Should add a comma: "Cursing out loud, he pressed [...]" ---------------------- That's all. Again, of course my opinions aren't super valuable. It's just what I think. Do with it what you will. BUT I REALLY LOVED THE IMAGERY.[/i] |
*Squee’s with joy and huggles Wisty.*
You have… no idea how much I love being critiqued. Since I’m trying to better myself when it comes to writing (Especially grammar and spelling), it really helps when people point out things. Yup, English is my second. I speak it way better then I write it though. Also, I’m honored you think I have a lovely imagination. My mom would call it weird. xD You’re right on the things you pointed out. They DO sound better when I read them as a whole. I tend to type how I think at times instead of how it should properly be written. Imagery is my favorite part of writing xD. So my dialog tends to be a bit screwy since I'm not as use to writing it. D=. |
congrats this is so wonderful <3 which is your mother tongue? mine is Spanish =)
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Thank you trinity! Mine is Italian :P. (As you know from the other thread xD.)
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Drabble #14: Midnight
Note: This drabble is incomplete. I’ll most likely edit the post later and add on, but after the last sentence I sort of went brain dead xD. I’m positing it anyways since I kind of like it even if it is unfinished. I’m going to set it aside and maybe develop it into more one day – and possibly put a name to the two characters xD. He came at midnight; just as he had done every night for the past two weeks. His fingers were icy tendrils caressing the side of her face with chilling tenderness. A cold shiver ran down the length of her spine at the feathery lightness of his touch. Softly a gasp escaped from between her lips. A hunter, a child of the night. His hair was of the darkest black, his skin a pristine white. Visions of damned centuries and history long forgotten resided behind the mirror of his jewel blue eyes. No breath trembled beneath his death cold flesh. No beating heart thundering within his lifeless chest. He was immortal. A dark Adonis damned and trapped forever in a body frozen in a fatal moment. Beauty stilled forever untouched by time. “Why are you here?” She whispered. Her words were soft, barely audible. Yet she knew that he had heard her as clearly as if she had shouted her question. The open window let the stark wintry air into the room in a cascade of billowing and fluttering curtains causing the breath that had spilled from her lips as she spoke to freeze upon the air in a light mist. |
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