|What's there is there. Why can't it be somewhere ELSE!?|
Classic RamblingThe year is nineteen-squickety-two. The President is the beautiful Rutherford Q. Garfunkelfield, and I was a tall, lanky son of a cheesemonger. The world was my oyster. Literally. I worked in a seafood restaurant, doncha know, and the guy kept tellin' me the floors were dirty. Don't you pay him no mind. Of course, you can't get those no more, people complained and whined until they made them big enough to drown a Dutchman. So anyway, I was bent on catching the trolley to Haversville to borrow a cup of lye from Mrs. Piggetts. Now, they say you should let sleeping dogs lye, but they never say how much to use, so I was just guessing, hoping to get close enough... Close only counts in horseshoes and hand-grenades, they say, but apparently it counted in lye, too, and now I had a dog to bury and no quarter for the trolley to get to Mrs. Piggetts and return that cup. She said she'd have my hide if I didn't bring it back, and I really needed my hide. Of course, I'm referring to my wolf-hide blClassic Rambling by CityWolves
Man's fears cast asideAll they were going to have access to as high. As much as I have seen this device constructs the HE-mail that they have brown fox jumped the fence along. This is as far as to who can resist C S? I just had a very very own sense is registered as famous friends who just couldn't think of any sense is that he would say not to do. You say C states positively reduce; that means that this should have known, since I can even begin to make heads and tails of any of it. Any DC which are riding out here who would ever see these things as forceful and sends home folders from falcons, and she conceived in liberty and the purposes of this issue that all men and who now teaches its own CC women. This nation has shown cents an ounce and I think of that is as good as soon. Have a seat in the ms site hosted the life of the Houston open this of the system's future vision. System Microsoft and if they just said I should fail and things like that, when center and I just decided by 5-7 swingman has some ofMan's fears cast aside by CityWolves
The Assassin Man is not, by nature, a creature of the night. Therefore, by the time the city was wrapped in the silent blanket of the darkness, most of the residents had met the sweet embrace of sleep. Sleep is an odd thing indeed, man's escape from the world of the night and its many predators. There is no fear of these things within the sweet caress of slumber. But they are still there. The shadows do not disappear simply because we do not acknowledge them. Under the veil of the night, even the most innocent of things becomes dark and frightening.The Assassin by CityWolves
Wrapped in a loose-fitting cloak, a figure padded silently through one of the city's countless back-alleys. Though he was but a man, he moved like a creature of the night, like a sleek black cat. He blended in with the long shadows of the night streets as he slid without a sound over the damp cobbles leading to the tall manor at the end of the street. A soft fog wa
The Ode to WormsI sleep now in blackness. Silent whispers of the world yet to die hiss in my ears. I hear him in the whispers. My life as a grain of sand in the mighty brackish sea of his voice. Dry winds over dead, dusty bones say "So it shall be." The skitter of mice over shattered cobbles say "It is all mine." And the Worms.. The Worms!! They squirm about in the ground humbly, harbingers of the Day to come. No one pays any heed to the Worms. His children move silently below us, continuing their eternal duty. They reduce all that is into all that was. Look at the signs! Are you blind!? Are you mad!? I am not. I can see the Worms. I can smell the freshly churned earth, wet with rain. I see the rust creeping along, cracks in society's pretty façade. They cannot hide it any longer. We are all The Dead. Whether it moves or not, a Man is naught but meat. Worm food. Nothing is lower than the worm, but nothing is higher. We are all dirt-eaters, carrion feeders, breaking all that is into allThe Ode to Worms by CityWolves
|What's there is there. Why can't it be somewhere ELSE!?|
Charlie Jenkins Ch1- Chapter One -Charlie Jenkins Ch1 by muse-7
Charlie Jenkins walked over to the long wall, blackened with soot, and took one of the many hammers from a hook. Charlie was a blacksmith. He always had been and he always would be - just like his father. He went back to the ancient anvil and drew his hammer high, ready to strike, but then -
'In here!' he replied with a sigh, lowering his hammer.
Henry, Charlie's co-owner of the blacksmith, entered stormily. 'Customer.'
'I'm forging. You take care of it.'
'I'm on break,' he retorted, then left hurriedly.
'Lazy oaf,' Charlie grumbled under his breath, putting the hammer back in its rightful place. Round the front of the blacksmith was a man dressed in thin armour. He had a breastplate and a light chain mail, but his arms and legs were left unprotected. Belted to his waist was a short. He was a guard.
'Good day, Blacksmith. I'm here to replace my helm,' said the guard, placing a broken helm between them on the polished oak table.
Charlie examined the damage and
Current Residence: My House right now
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Drunks
Print preference: Drunks
Favourite genre of music: Rock
Favourite photographer: Drunks
Favourite style of art: Drunks
Operating System: Drunks
MP3 player of choice: Drunks
Shell of choice: Drunks
Wallpaper of choice: Drunks
Skin of choice: Drunks
Favourite cartoon character: The one with the Hair... You know... the guy with the face...
Personal Quote: Insanity is a perfectly rational lifestyle choice in the world we live in.