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Post by Kinoko on Nov 13, 2006 19:42:17 GMT -5
One word for you to make use of your surroundings: ice. Any possible meaning of that word, and that means your surroundings. Use it to the fullest. Good luck.[/size] [glow=silver,2,300]...walking this road without you... remaking forgotten promises... and meet you at road's end... [/size][/b][/glow][/center]
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bllaakkee
Congrats, I may not hate you completely right about now.....
I play world of warcraft A LOT and am proud of it!
Posts: 179
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Post by bllaakkee on Nov 15, 2006 23:14:19 GMT -5
Kapari walked along the cold planes. I hate this cold. He thought to him self. Walking along he saw a cave the inside was covered in ice and it was kinda dark. Kapari walked into the cave.
I wonder where the other is He pondered. The inside had ice everywhere. The cold was starting to get to him. His movements were slowed. Why do i have to be cold blooded?
He got out a lantern from his pack and turned it on. He put his hands out to take in the small amount of warmth. Kapari shivered, his warm cloths helping little. He took out one of his daggers and started to sharpen the blade.
Sharp winds blew outside. I think a blizzard is about to start. he looked out the cave entrance, outside there was lots of snow blowing and he heard the wind blowing.
OOC: see i can make long posts.
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Post by vehemence on Nov 19, 2006 3:17:35 GMT -5
OOC: I would highly appreciate it if we refrained from turning this thread into an aceldama. So, please, can’t we simply dissertate instead of battling? Well, you’re choice, actually. *shifty eyes*
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The word is beautiful today.
Insusceptible to venality and lingering patiently.
A belief that is truly transcendental.
A woman perambulates across the newly fallen snow, admiring each petal drifting down towards the earth. The flakes hold lore, every part of it divided into segments creating the entire tale. They twirl, so very lovely, and fashion a kaleidoscopic effect against the faint sun. Majestic and elysian, never tergiversating between rectitude and iniquity, contrasting dramatically with the nefarious hearts biding their time.
Her footfalls are light and comportment very jocund and insouciant. No, must be judicious—alas, tragically imprudent decisions; must be senectitude and its dotage or amentia. Either way, pernoctation was deleterious for her. Noctambulating throughout all of life, a synopsis for her. Where does the beginning end and the end begin? At the place where they meet. Juxtapose them and analyze. Where does the beginning end and the end begin?
Light, light, over there! Nearly extinguished, but still tenacious. Warmth, warmth, for the ancient one! A mackabroin lurking, indiscernible with niveous hair whiter than white that achieved fulgency grander than grand. All gone to waste.
“May I join you?” she mocks timorously.
-V
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bllaakkee
Congrats, I may not hate you completely right about now.....
I play world of warcraft A LOT and am proud of it!
Posts: 179
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Post by bllaakkee on Dec 6, 2006 0:19:42 GMT -5
Kapari looked up as he saw the girl standing in the entry way of the cave. I wonder what she is doing here he wondered. "Shur you can join me if you want. It seams that a storm is coming. Its just going to get colder so moor body warmth should be good. Not meaning any thing tho." He said to the girl "And by the way my name is Kapari whats yours?"
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Post by vehemence on Dec 8, 2006 22:25:06 GMT -5
OOC: My word of the week is Barmecidal.
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She down upon the frigid, forlorn ground and conjured Barmecidal visions of a feast. She was rarely esurient, but the hunger would devour her insides during those infrequent occasions when she was. Cotton spores began growing, accumulating exponentially in her throat, oppilating the orifice. Words came out, but none was coherent; they were the muttering of a lunatic. A person who has long absquatulated like the coward she was and journeyed to pray beneath a caryatid.
Her supplications would not be answered.
Tomoyo cautiously scrutinized him. He reminded her of a discalced monk she knew five centuries ago. The man perished in a conflagration that consumed the entire cathedral. He was one who poured the oils and observed tranquilly as lambent flames evolve into the others’ infelicitous ends.
Contemporaneously, Tomoyo had been watching from a brae that loomed over the structure. A minatory inferno had spread its loving fingers to the friars as they shrieked in pain. Her friend had no regrets and died laughing. He died happy and content.
The lantern was nearly smothered now by its own puissance constrained within the inconditely constructed glass and metal, perpetual thralldom.
“I’m Tomoyo, but I didn’t always have a name. Appellations are the things that a mother bestows upon her children succeeding their genitures. I wasn’t born; I just came to be. How about you? Curious thing, this world we reside in. You can live as part of it for a thousand years, yet all the while, not understanding a single thing.”
The fire went out.
-V
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