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Shinahil of Starlight

[ website | Shades of Starlight* ]
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Random yeah stuff omgwtessay [15 Oct 2005|04:31pm]

[ mood | busy ]

So I was told to do a narrative essay for English Comp 1 class, and I did. Thought I'd share.

The Confessions of a Professional OccultistCollapse )

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of a dark destiny [13 Aug 2005|05:52am]

[ mood | thoughtful ]

Things weren't supposed to happen like this. Not this. Not now.

Every breath drawn felt empty and weighted with guilt, as if the very act of breathing were wasting precious moments or borrowed time. Borrowed life.

He knelt down, there among the softly scented roses and let the stolen breath escape his lungs, closing his eyes in its sweet caress. Everything is wrong... His world, everything, shattered in a single evening.

And he, with no idea of how to mend the situation.

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[29 Mar 2005|02:39am]

[ mood | morose ]

Jealousy is like
Chasing Waterfalls
And staring in
Mirrors in the dark

Voices whisper on
Over winds of change
And beckon me away
Leaving them behind

Closer brings the
Chill slicing hearts
Pain bleeding downward
It's the only escape

Chasing Waterfalls
Chasing Butterflies
Chasing Dreams
Chasing Stars

Forgetting this,
Forgetting these,
Letting it go to
Step forward; illuminate

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untitled [24 Feb 2005|04:33pm]

[ mood | confused ]

Why do you still make my heart jump?
Why do you still make my heart hurt?
Don't worry. I won't be making that mistake again.
I've learned. You've learned.
We know each other now; we're different now.
So why haven't my feelings changed?

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... curse my muse [07 Jan 2005|04:11am]

[ mood | sleepy ]

I was all warm and snuggled into my bed when I was, as always, hit hard with the creativity stick. Hopefully, now that I'm freezing my butt off on this cold chair, I'll be able to remember what I so desperately wanted to write. ;P

An Unexpected FriendCollapse )

Ah. Not as articulate or as well written as I'd hoped, but I got it all out. I'm glad. Now, to bed. ;)

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A.I. <3: Artificial Infatuation [Part 1] [03 Jan 2005|06:08am]

[Note.. this story is in parts.. because it's going to be so small I don't think that chapters would seem fitting, but I needed some sort of separator so I don't have to type it all down in one sitting. This part is actually lacking the last half end of it. I'll finish it later.. :O; ]

Sometimes things don't go as planned. That can go without saying in most cases.. but in some situations it's the only way you can explain away a phenomenon.

Linecars aren't what they used to be.. back when they were first introduced into the public commute scene they were state of the art. Efficient, swift, soundless and comfortable for the passengers. Unlike many forms of transportation, these bullet trains that zoomed along metal cords of exceptional endurance that swept across the sky, not unlike old-fashioned telephone lines. Mind, those telephone lines come from a time way back before everything was transfered via satellite. The olden days.. some say that there should be a 'g' before that phrase.. and other say that it should be capital. At least.. compared to how things are now. It certainly isn't the country it used to be.. that's for sure. This.. New Country -as it's called, ever so fittingly- has seen better days. Once it was a shining example of what a nation should be. Now it's the exact opposite. One giant slum, from coast to coast. Not that it's without technology.. but most of it's run down and in need of repair. Oop, but I've gone off on a tangent, now haven't I? Back to what I was talking about.. linecars! They sure aren't what they used to be.
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[ mood | okay ]

Just dialogue.Collapse )

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The following short story has been rated [WTF](PG-13) [21 Dec 2004|02:51am]

[ mood | moody ]

This post has been formatted to fit your screen size.Collapse )

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The muddled thoughts of a confused girl. [18 Nov 2004|04:48am]

[ mood | contemplative ]

Thursday frowned further and drew herself into a tighter ball. Her crimson hair was dull and darkened by the grim and filth accumulated in this hell hole of a cell. Her feathers, for that matter, were darkened as well by the weeks and weeks worth of dirt, though the dim lighting didn't improve her appearance, situation, or mood at all.

"Isn't anyone trying to find me?" she asked softly in a sing-song voice, though half the words don't get past her sore throat and cracked lips. "... 'Cause nothing's going right... ... and everything's a mess. ...and no one likes to be alone."

She would moisten her beak with her tongue to help the words carry, though she doubted anyone cared. Being in maximum security had it's benefits, she had to admit... and no annoying, teasing, dangerous guards were posted outside the thick metal door this time. Team Rocket was smart like that. Even the most experienced strategist couldn't get through a solid fact like a steel door.

No, Thursday was much more comfortable and used to flexible puzzles in which she had the advantage. Though, they probably know that. They created her, after all. They taught the classes and provided the tests... they knew it all. ... ... ... He knew it all.

The girl doesn't notice her body as it starts to tremble slightly. The mere ghost of a thought of the one who cares all her secrets made the Spearow fear. And now there was no mistaking. Everything... everything was out on the table now. Every secret, every thought and idea... every fear.

That was the worst one of all. He knew everything to do to break her. And was always three steps ahead. Somehow, in some incredible way... It was infuriating, actually. She'd always been able to score high on those tests... but she was beaten. She was always able to find ways around those annoying obstacles. But never fast enough.

She couldn't even kill the guy properly. ... She really should have just finished him off, even if it meant having to leave Snake to that Furret. His life would have been worth Snake's, wouldn't it?

Though, she supposed, Snake does have the right to live. He wasn't one of those mindless drones the Team seemed to produce so verily. Or, rather, he was against the Team...

Oh, s***. That's just what she's been doing all her life! She manipulated people just like the Team, she bend them to her will, she made them kill as well...

She doesn't deserve another name. She doesn't deserve another chance. Nauseated, the girl manages to hold back on the very tempting thought of getting that particular bad taste out of her mouth the hard way. Always the strategist. Always their solider, not matter if she wanted to be or not. ...d*mn.

Besides, it would only hinder her further... make the place even less inhabitable. And heaven knows she doesn't need that. After all, she doesn't know if they ever plan on letting her out. But she doubts the idea verily. After all, she's a Rocket as well... deep down. Where it counts. She'll always be a Rocket. There's no escaping it now. As much as she protests in spirit, she'll always be their solider. She'll always be their's.

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there's nothing left... but a new light [30 Sep 2004|04:19pm]

[ mood | hmmmmm ]

Fire's embers blew up the rocky trail to the edge of the cliff where he stood, crouched, holding his cloak tightly against his body to close out the wind. In front of his eyes lay the town, now burned and shattered, blurred with the burning tears in his eyes. He took a deep breath, choking on a sob that fought in his throat, and huddled, pulling the cloth closer to himself. He had no one else to hold him.
But although all was lost, and the ashes that fell away from the bodies of all those he held dear, sweeping across the vales to be caught in the branches of the folliage that had once been green and good, he could not feel more sorrow than he had. Far in the distance, the old iron bell of the clock tower rang icely into the night, which chilled him.
The starlight, spilt along the mountain side and valley below, seemed sickeningly sweet, and far too majestic to mourn the losses of all those lives. As a warm, salty tear found its way down his dirty and bruised cheek, he took a deep breath, and got to his feet.
There was more to do... and nothing would get done while he crouched in the shadows.

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Hum. [31 Jul 2004|07:06am]

[ mood | okay ]

Story I've been fooling around with. Criticism begged for and appreciated.

Unwelcome RevelationCollapse )

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A Story, more or less. [18 Jul 2004|02:19am]

[ mood | enthralled ]

Alright, here's the down and dirty of it: I wrote a little something, and I've never been good at seeing what needs to done to make my stories better. So I ask anyone who reads this: What do I need to do to, like, make it good? More importantly, does it play with your emotions, or is it staleishly dead?

UntitledCollapse )

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:O [08 Jul 2004|10:40pm]

[ mood | peaceful ]

LOOKIT THIS! Researching for ideas for random stories of mine, I came across some helpful websites. ^_^ This one especially: http://jerz.setonhill.edu/writing/creative/short story/index.html. I'd like to draw attention to point number five especially. How to write dialogue correctly! Yay! I've been reading a lot of written stuff lately (no, I'm not really pointing anyone specific out. :P Don't take it personally, ne? ^_^v) where the authors don't seem to understand the use of dialogue in stories. ^_^ So I'm doing my part and maybe someone here will take it to heart and use it. :)

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The Greatest Gift 03 [08 Jul 2004|01:19am]

[ mood | singin' to the tunes ]

continuation 03Collapse )

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The Greatest Gift 02 [02 Jul 2004|07:36pm]

[ mood | hungry ]

continuation #02Collapse )

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The Greatest Gift (?) [29 Jun 2004|02:26am]

[ mood | indescribable ]

I... don't know. I'm feeling weird. Here's part of a story I've been playing around with.

It had been two days.Collapse )

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erfiepoetry [16 Jun 2004|12:01am]

[ mood | yearning ]

It occurs to me that just about nobody I know has ever seen my clumsy attempts at poetry. So, here they are, to be judged... veiwed, of course, at your own risk.

"Stay" and "Follow" are sister poems. "Forever Apart" was an off-the-top-of-my-head response to a prompt. Thanks, Tibek!

Without further ado, three poems.Collapse )

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Mmm-hmmm-mmmm... [13 Jun 2004|10:09pm]

[ mood | good ]

There were times, children, when our Mother was not so clever as she seemed.Collapse )

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The Feeling of Wings [06 Jun 2004|01:57am]

[ mood | accomplished ]

As I stand on this plateau again,
Feelings well up in my mind,
And I can see tomorrow.

Down the high ridge something I will send,
My body and my worn being,
And I can see today.

All the world I see, below me, passing slowly.
I want to be free, to be me, to go freely.

But this I cannot grant,
This I cannot see,
Cannot be,
Can't be free...

And so how will it end?
My spirit will I mend?
What is around the bend
For me?

As I stand on this plateau again,
Distant bitter tears I shed,
And I can see my past.

The wind stirs my wings, consulting me,
Advising me to try and fly,
And I can see my end.

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The Unobtainable (verson 1) [26 May 2004|03:43pm]

[ mood | quiet ]

Another StoryCollapse )

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