"When they are called mad,
When they are called fools,
But then, we are all fools in a world crumbling down,
Where angels no longer tread our smog-canopied skies,
And where Justice lies dead on the earth,
Her scales broken and burnt."
- Hell's Dialogue; Beyond the Phantasm of Humankind
I wrote something in the middle of class, while I was musing over the drawing Maia made for me yesterday. I posted this on my Ramblings, but I thought it would be nice to share this over here.
~*~ )O( ~*~
I wanted to try a different kind of storytelling wherein I didn't have to keep people glued to one long chapter before they understood the emotion I wanted to convey. So I thought of using my favorite kind of prose - shortshort stories, to show you little glimpses of how it is to love and lose that love.
WARNING: NC-17 material.
Part I: Release
Touches are feather-like and kisses whisper over skin. The night is a blanket of shadows and dimmed light over the both of us - two dancers engaged in a pas de deux upon the stage of soft sheets.
I smoothe your brow, droplets of sweat clinging frail to burnished bronze. Your dark eyes flicker to mine as one hand comes to rest on the arch of my back, and the other, gently caressing my cheek, beckoning me to touch my lips to yours.
I shift my legs, the tender skin of my inner thighs grazing yours. My hand moves to rest on your quivering belly for support, and simply because the sensation of my fingers drives you on.
I throw my head back, arching backward, like a cat I let out a soft purr, even as my voice hitches and a cry is lodged in my throat.
And you grip me - hold on, even as the pleasure strikes us like a fist. Hold on for us both, as I take you with me over the edge of desire. My right hand curls over your heart and I cry inside wishing that I could take and have it as easily as that.
We lie in darkness, your head rests on my shoulderlips pressed against my neck. Your breathing is steady and deep. I wonder what you dream, praying to my Goddess that you dream sweetly of me.
I push away the tousled locks of my ebony hair, feeling small again under the comfortable weight of your arm. I smile and trace a finger against the muscle toned and firm on your forearm. I'd always been attracted to fighters. To their strength. Their power.
But you are more than the others, with your quiet stance and guarded eyes. With your surprising gentleness that is conveyed with a mere touch of your calloused hands.
Perhaps that is why I gave to you. A giving never to be repeated again.
So many wounds. I bite my lip and shift as you shift in sleep. So many scars. I fleeting pass my hand over the scar over your heart, invoking images of blood and gunfire, and of you, lying in the damp alleyway I found you in.
You hand twitches then relaxes before it moves to cup my hip. I shift again and lie on ym stomach, watching the changes on your face.
A tear falls from me.
If only you would let me love you more.
You spoke her name not mine.
~ o ~
Part II: Glimpse
Odd to have, perhaps, fallen inlove with you in the place where death dwells. Beneath the silent stones and shaded trees - I saw you, a single long-stemmed rose between your fingers, one hand - your right, tucked into the pocket of your worn, black jeans. And I would not have noticed the hand if not for the movement of wind through the long-sleeved raven shirt you wore.
It touched and intrigued me, the way you knelt in slow reverence before laying the gentle rosebud - just barely bloomed, to your lips. And in my mind I could almost hear the words uttered by your unmoving mouth.
Word of love and regret.
You were gone as quickly as you came. A shadow fleeing the mad-white light of the sun. And I made my way to the grave where the chilled November wind turned the gold and crimsoned fallen leaves.
My eyes took not of the dates, nevermind the name - the glass-encased picture of her face would haunt me enough.
She died young - so young. Just a few years my senior beneath the earth that fresh grss grew over.
Who was she? I wondered then, forgettgin that I visited this place to pay my respects to my own relatives.
The caption caught my attention. Though I didn't know you, nameless shadow - I knew in my heart you wrote the lines:
Shakespeare would say: 'Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow...'
Love, Confidante and Dearest Friend.
~ o ~
Part III: Distraction
I watch you pad around, barefoot, intent on what you are reading. I sit at the counter of the kitchen, dressed in flannel pajamas and a long-sleeved top, watching you as I write and wait for Swiss Miss to cool.
You look disheveled, just out of bed, though I awoke to you humming carelessly in the shower.
There will be no words between us, as it has been for these past three nights. And I would have it no other way.
I don't think I could bear to hear goodbye.
~ o ~
Part IV: Shards
They have told me it's been weeks since I saw sunlight, but I ask them how there can be sunlight when morning fails to come to take evening's place. Night is eternal, as of late, and dark, devoid of the mobile of car lights that once hovered on my ceilings as I lay in the crib of your arms.
It was stupid of me to believe that you could love me the way I wanted you to. I wove a tapestry of illusion, painted a portrait of dreams with my words, my imaginings.
I never had you, perhaps. Even though you looked into my eyes and I saw in your a whisper and questions, asking me to stay.
And I swore I'd never leave. I wouldn't run from the demons that hunt you in the nooks and crannies, in the shrouded corners. I said I would stay.
But you never did.
.FIN. written by Noelle Pico
on November 13, 2003:
@ 8:38am, 9:04am, 9:15am & 9:26am. Copyright Noelle Pico 2003
All rights reserved.
She nodded her head to the beat of R. Kelly's Thoia Thoing and smiled a slow, secret smile to herself when she eyed him weaving through the crowd of the club before their gazes met.
She knew she looked good - her girls told her so right before they smuggled themselves into the throng of people that moved and pumped to the party air of the dancefloor. But a girl's entitled to glance at her bestfriend lining the walls of the club - the mirror - to check the whole emsemble if the guy she wants finally pays her some well-deserved attention.
Her eyes were carefully lined - not that she needed it, or so her friends told her. The slant of them oozed mystery and a slight hint of the forbidden - not that she'd know anything of that sort. But the part was a nice role for tonight.
Her outfit, a stark contrast to the staple black of evenings, was white - definitely not the color innocence since the black-lined collar plunged in a provocative deep-V meant to make fantasies wander. Her dark denim pants hung low, showing just a peek of flat stomach - a side-benefit of her chosen sport. The heels of her sandals - thin as ice-picks, clicked on the floor, and she could remember her girls' retorts on her being blessed with balance and the feet to tolerate those kinds of shoes.
On her left wrist the punk bracelet that held the glittering letters of her alias, on her ears thin silver strands winked, mingling with her tousled raven locks. A ring of celtic design rested on her left ring-finger, catching the light from the strobes high above. The gorgeous pentagram given as a gift by one of her friends for Christmas hung from her neck completing the ensemble.
She smiled when he finally made his way to her, catching her left wrist in his strong hand, his long fingers brushing the tender skin where bluish veins peeked through semi-transparent skin.
"Nice..." she heard him whisper before his other hand went to get her free hand. "Let's dance, Ielle."
She smiled, a mixture of coyess and sass. "You owe me more than one."
You were there in the turnstiles
With the wind at your heels
You stretched for the stars and you know how it feels
To reach too high, too far, too soon
You saw the whole of the moon - The Whole of the Moon, Celtic Fayre
Am online with my Tita Wen from the States, having a fun time discussing Christmas Wishlists and such... Flip, I have discovered, is waaaaaaay wanting D&D (Dungeons and Dragons) books. No wonder, since he's been drooling over the ones his friend has...
Christmas is in the air... I can already feel it - well, not exactly Christmas, but the chill anyway - which is why I am often seen sporting the Old Navy jacket that I bought for the Hong Kong trip. *shudders* The cold is nice though, something I missed considerably in the tropical heat that never seems to let up. Rain is good but scarce these days, and I suppose that can be considered a good thing for now.
I did a reading yesterday - a long one with a certain pattern, which has been the first in awhile. Been trying to get all my Daily Doses of Fae Wisdom so that I could post them on my sidebar but there are still several missing.
What is strange is the message that I got from the second part of my reading... I normally have to think when I rhyme, particularly since I'm very conscious about not repeating the same words and keeping a certain rhythm to the poem if ever. But for this one thing that I wrote down, it seemed more like a stream of conscousness that surprisingly makes sense.
I might use it sometime for a fic, but in the meantime, I find it slightly unsettling to know that it sounds like something AB characted Denise/Destiny of the Three would say:
'It all began in friendship, Noelle, as these things often do, hand in hand and smiles to tears, trust from him to you. But beware for thunder looms ahead, a storm brews in the East, face all this and lighting too, perhaps in the end a warm feast. And take no fear, for Gloom does not come with a message unsent, for when trials, pain and anguish come, with you days will be spent. So in the end, or not so end, the crafts shall need be done, for in all the world and all the world what Love wills to be be done.'
- Destiny of the Three
Makes me wonder what I'm gonna do about AB considering that I've been meaning to work on it, but everytime I do, I can't seemt o get the drive to post. *sighs*
Yes, yes... I know that I owe the whole community an episode 3, but I would like to fix up things while this goes into play:
AUTUMN's BOUNTY CONTESTS
Templates/Webpage 1. The template must be based on the blog-series, Autumn's Bounty.
2. Template must consider the inclusion of pop-up window codes for:
.....a) Cast - window must show picture and bio/blurd about character to be inputted by author.
.....b) Fanart - pop-up window code.
.....c) Fanfiction - pop-up window code.
3. Template/design must have link button/s available for use.
- Tweaking of the pictures of celebrities assigned to the characters of AB is very much encouraged. Please do, it gives the author a blissful time seeing images.
- The incorporation of the lyrics to AB's theme song One Step Forward (Two Steps Back) is also encouraged since it will help promote the main theme.
- A request of using actual pictures that portray and do justice to the Irish countryside (using places that can pass of as AB will also do) ups the chances of the template being chosen.
**All in all, I am setting this contest up becase of my immense need for a new template that will jump-start the flow of words again. Desperate? Yes, i very well may be that, but you would be too, if you were stuck in the middle of episode three with ideas running rampant but you had no visual drive at all.
Gyeh. The things I must suffer to get the series back underway.
With regards to this contest, even designing the image of the template will do - so it doesn't really matter if you can make a template or not, though the fact that the template was made and is finished would make it easier for moi... *sighs*
Now... what is the prize for the winner of this fabulous little contest (and there will be three winners, if any join the contest at all...), you ask?
The only thing I can manage to offer in return for hard work and conceptualization is the fact that I will write in the winner/s as regular characters in the series. Yes, I will choose to coordinate with these people and allow them the chance to contribute to AB's vast choice of people in the fic... taking into mind as well that I might be tempted to form an online RPG much like the one in #Mighty_Ducks, should the opportunity arise, these people may have their pick of characters.
Now, as Harle so kindly brought to my attention - what about loveteams should these winners want one (or two? or three?) - the condition goes that as long as the people you want as your loveteam isn't already attached or won't be attached in the course of the series' timeline - you may have them. And all the juicy snippets of scenes that I will be inclined to write.
I think... that that is enough for today. Hopefully, this little endeavor will actually reap some results. (Good God! I'm already speaking like Fate! Not good.)
My INTRECO class got canceled because Sir is reportedly sick for the day. Whoop-dee-doo. Lucky me.
Harle is downstairs at the Lit. Circle booth manning it with a couple of others, she and I plan to meet in awhile down at Coffee Club for the usual food and hot choco/coffee. *sighs*
Things are somewhat slowing down, though I expect it to pick up again soon. My legs pretty much hurt from the training this weekend and I'm still praying that the car will get back asap if possible. If that's not possible, I might have to skip out on tomorrow's training.
[For names, please hover...]
I'm in a much fairer mood compared to the one that took me last Thursday... although I have thing to do still. *sighs* I dropped by a couple other blogs - Mai's, Kai's, avoided Harle's because there is a chance for spoilage of Matrix Revolutions (DAMN!!! I WANNA WATCH!!!), and am constantly jumping around the areas to check this and that.
*raps fingers on console*
I am... looking for hosting... and a way to use Fateback because idiotically enough, I can't seem to log onto the website. Anyone who may have brilliant suggestions about me relocating (yes, everyone wants hosting now... heheheh... right Mai?) please, do... comment.
Things have slowed down on blogger and the such lately no thanks to Friendster. Mrf. Ube! Are you on FRiendster toooooo? *wince* Potik. Heheheh... what else can be said about the fact that it's the latest trend and that it's driving everyone nuts. Mrf. So speaks the person who has an account.
Mrf. I guess it's just that I miss the rapid flow of comments on blogger *laughs as she remembers that she RARELY comments on blogger anyway* and the community itself. Mrf. This one and this one had to go vamoose off to LJ, but then I can't blame them. Darn thing about LJ tho is that you can't customize the appearance... and for a visually-inclined person such as m'self... ayun.
Melina Noelle Dauphin is 18 years of age born on the 18th of April 1985 at 9:25 am, on the cusp of Aries and Taurus.
She is a Wiccan by choice with Roman Catholic roots thanks to her parents and believes everything has a reason, and that
fate does not equal coincidence.
She is surrently studying at De La Salle University and will be taking up Behavioral Sciences come 1st term, 2003.
Her great loves include her music, dancing, writing, reading, hockey, Tolkien, Dragonlance, the Mighty Ducks (both animated
and the non-animated), and art in general.
She is known in various names such as Mel, Lina, Mia D (Devlin?), Noelle/Noey, Noei, Nyre, Lynne, Lillie, Noele,
Nibblet...all depending on what fandom/ mood/ life/ timeframe/ universe she's in. (MPD anyone?)
She wishes she were part Irish, is desperately learning how to speak Gaelic (and Cajun) and dreams of setting foot in New Orleans
in time for Mardi Gras, or on the shores of Ireland for Midsummer's Eve.
In the absence of a REAL lovelife, Mr.Bugholds the monopoly of my heart.^^
No Holds Barred Noelle "Ielle" Pico
- - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - -
"I love Amy Lee from Evanescence and admire her style in singing. Her voice is heartbreaking
and it just gets to you. I'm not saying I want to be her, but
to be able to sing as good as she can, and as honest as she can... that's enough."
- Ielle on her singing idols.
Give Me Freedom
Coffee and Nonesense
One Last Storm
Sleep (Never Again)
One Step Forward (Two Steps Back)
Jump Into the Ocean
Lost To Me (instrumental)
Pray With Me (NEW)
On Butterfly Wings my earlier attempts at songwriting
Gotta Let Go
Were You Even There
Scents of Lavender
Fork in the Road
ON MY BOOKSHELF: Book of Spells (II) - Marian Green Between Blinks - Jim Paredes The Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice Irish Jewels - Nora Roberts Three Sisters Island - Nora Roberts
Wishlist 2003 (Christmas ed.)
BOOKS The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle Titania's Book of Hours - Titania Hardie Enchanted - Titania Hardie In the Circle - Elen Hawke
>>Note to: Doggieniichan
CDs Celtic Emotions
Troika Goddess Faeries
Adeimus Songs of Sanctuary Dances of Time The Eternal Knot
i can't see tomorrow
(but with you it's okay)
the whole of the moon [celtic fayre]
one of these says [michelle branch]
breathe [michelle branch]
blame it on the weatherman [b*witched]
what can i do [the corrs]
a sorta fairytale [tori amos]
do what you have to do [sarah mclachlan]
head over feet [alanis morissette]
colourblind [darius danesh]
why don't you & i [santana; alex band]
last goodbye [atomic kitten]
swing swing [all american rejects]
teenaged dirtbag [wheatus]
going under [evanescence]
somewhere out there [our lady peace]
i think god can explain [splender]
system [qotd ost]
bring me to life [evanescence]
taking over me [evanescence]
dancing in the dark
baby boy [beyonce feat. sean paul]
shake yer tailfeather [nelly feat p. diddy/murphy lee]
thoia thiong [r. kelly]
ignition [r. kelly]
smooth [santana feat. rob thomas]
final fantasy: the spirits within
lotr: the fellowship of the ring
lotr: the two towers
queen of the damned
vision of escaflowne
dinner serenade (042103)
harana [parokya ni edgar]
stay [lisa loeb]
small two of pieces [xenogears ost]
runaway [the corrs]
hands clean [alanis morissette]
my immortal [evanescence]
wherever you will go [the calling]
for you [the calling]