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Paradox WIP.
14 years ago
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(journal link) The flair of my writing, displayed for thoughtful browsing
for a comprehensive list of all of my significant writings, WIPs, and conceptual works posted as submissions and in journals.(journal link) The flair of my writing, displayed for thoughtful browsing
She enjoys portraying herself as a half-aware and dimwitted beast, drunken in the stupor of her own bodily composure.This is what I do in my spare time.
EDIT: I've included some context from the moreso finished iPod note of this story.
~ The suggestive speculation of a dark harbringer ~
I have been watching her for a very long time.
I had my reservations. Anyone would have. I wasn't exactly the ill-minded fool my peers often deemed me. I knew what would come of my decisions, as any man in his right mind should have. I willingly chose to give the better of my life to the grueling task of observing her; studying her behavior in the hope that I could, if ever necessary, warn someone else of her presence in our midst. A being like her was not to be taken lightly in the slightest degree. Yes, she is quite the capable creature, with quite the size to match. She walked with the subtlty of a herbivore, but ran with the celerity of a feral dragon, tearing the ground from where her feet would land as she brought low the hordes of game hunting men and beastfolk alike, causing the most proud of wildland predators to cower away to their dens in utter terror - a testament to the ease of power with which she conducted her business. I likened the possibility of making myself apparent before her to the idea of a man setting out to sea and hurling his harpoon directly down into the heart of the ocean, as though the fool actually wished to incur the wrath of an angel of the deep, dooming he and his hapless companions to a fate most elaborate, the lot of them becoming part of a rather capriciously drawn out banquet laid out before it where the godling could exact the raw implications of its hunger upon them with the most precarious of discretion as it would unclench its teeth from around their bodies to lift its tongue, bathing its palette in their blood - a beautiful if not unlikely fate, but as sure an end as any. She was never to know of my presence in her midst. But...it suprises me all too deeply that I was able to remain veiled in secrecy for as long as I supposed I was.
However, this changes nothing.
I actually thought myself to be quite the clever escapist for having evaded her as long as I did. And not once did I consider how that phenomenon could have ensured the financial prosperity of my family for ages to come. With the steady increase in both angel-hunters and angel-watchers alike, I could have made a name for myself, and with the utmost of ease. Scholars and scribes from all across the world would have come to me to hear my stories and of the nature of my experiences. Countless books would have been authored and published in honor of my exploits, and my daughter Sheryl would have truly known the life of a noble, wanting for nothing as the days would come and pass. And Joy - my precious Joy - may very well have come to worship the ground I once walked upon. Perhaps somewhere, at some point in time and in some manner, I may have actually retained these memories with absolute certainty. If not, I don't think I would be hovering over this ill-begotten city so caprisciously while taking time to remnisce of what once was, yet may have never been. Such is the nature of this new mind, I suppose. It grants me such precognition as though the substance of my thoughts had occured in seconds prior, but days beforehand.
Is this a curse? Is it a gift? I don't often dwell on it as much as I am doing now.
In all the days I spent following her, I would never have guessed that she could create something so wickedly implying. But maybe it is fair to say that I could never really come to understand what manner of being would emerge from between her thighs, let alone what creature in all the world could ever hope to feel its length drank till the scrotum's emptiness before withdrawing it from the voluptuous lips of her vulva. I only made such blatantly unscrupulous guesses at the strength of her cunny [A PARAGRAPH STILL TO COMPLETE]
[one or more connecting paragraph(s) goes here?]
I can't exactly say I am displeased with this new and unique unlife.
[a different connecting paragraph goes here?]
What a glorious marvel she is. In every moment that I encountered her, day after day, in years that seemed to become decades in the blink of an eye, I never left her places of rest without asking Mother Salvation why she even was, begging for an answer as to why this creature of beauty unmatched was even permitted to walk amongst such lowly filth as we. She was a blessing most unmeritted. The trill of her voice alone could seduce the king of dragons himself, just as the subtle thud of her heart upon the soil was enough to humble all nations unto utter submission beneath her. I do not speak these words in the mere vanity of free artistic liscence. Even now I tire, just as I had come to in every moment I would approach her. A wild, foolhardy man of needless risks and danger I was, brought to a pathetic stagger before I had even laid eyes upon her so much as once! I had no pressing concerns to attend to that day. News of both the triumphs and deaths of many brave men and women who sought after fame and glory trying to best her was more than enough to captivate the soul of a nephil such as I. Sometimes I would even frequent the usual suspect places of gathering where many-a-drunken-fool would exaggerate his encounters with Mother Nirvana. I was young...and nothing but a fledgling fool myself for deeming some of these tall tales significant enough to warrent leaving Joy and Sheryl behind, burdened under a mountain of worry in my abscence, which occured more often than not. Strangely though - or rather not I should say - Joy would never be as outraged against me as Sheryl was.
Hnhn...typical. Ever the elusive tease.
[convey the ensuing battle of warriors vs Nirvana]
A lone woman had fallen, breathing her last. Two males followed her shortly thereafter.
I thought to myself. I took a small moment to look all around me at the multitude that did as I did. Standing aloof from the carnage and bloodshed, all of us, as though we lay in wait to procure some manner of spoils from the remnants of those she crushed without mercy. I began to develop this gut-wrenching feeling that I was nothing more than a parasitic thrill-seeker, teetering on the outskirts of the greater of actual...significance? I didn't have a word for it. And it didn't require one. All I knew...was that there was more to derive from this spectacle than what I had gathered thus far, and I was determined to see it through to its end.
Experience was a teacher most unforgiving in that moment, leaving me breathless.
(possible input?: I wasn't at all interested in mindless bloodshed).
[need to convey a frighteningly realistic part where Nirvana begins to take some of the people into what is her hands in short moments. And PROGRESSIVELY, with looks on her face that don't even acknowledge the precious value of life, she breaks them and "takes their bodies apart" in the most horridly inhumane of ways, with utter disregard to the value of life as though they were nothing but "toys to be broken" to her...]
[THEN, SOMEWHERE, convey that Sheryl's Father/Paradox...had died...by a heart attack...simply because he could not handle the nature of what Nirvana had done both AROUND him...and WITH HIM] (gotta convey how he comes back to life though...)
{My Resting Point}
Convey and explain that many warriors and adventurers - and Sheryl's Father too (as a spectator) - tried to go and kill Nirvana, but were all killed, except for Sheryl's Father. Convey it in a battle-explanatory sense, along with Paradox's awe]
--> [eventual part conveying his anguish at being unable to find "the beautiful angel" that slew him only to grant him a second chance]
(below was added on 2-24-11)
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Where was I that night? What was I?
I could not even see what lay before my eyes as I stumbled about, begging for her sure return. But who was I to demand a means to repose from Heaven itself? Torn and broken, my bonds to her severed by fate's cruel jest, yet I thought to continue my search for her. Where in all that lie beneath the stars could she have been hiding? And even in this, I had no voice. "A disposible joke," thinking to assert its dominance before "an unstoppable wave," supposing he stood upon a ground worthy of a place beside Salvation Herself. Somewhere in my mind I knew she was listening, laughing heartily at my plight and yet, I wanted to share that moment of laughter with her. Of what worth is the world to one slain by Heaven's own Hand, reborn anew but broken forevermore? In my misery I thought for a moment that I could actually see her. Something was moving through the underbrush, watching...following. I never laid eyes on it a single time, but I knew it was there. One of my extensive training of mind, body, and soul was not so very dull in his perception of the unseen. But as I trudged through the muck and grime, ever annoyed by the moistness of the dew that rose above the grass and how my fur was matted down most uncomfortably, I was sure that she was there, and only but a sprint's distance from me. At least, that is what I wanted to believe. But I spoke not a single word to my Maker, pausing, hoping she would turn and take notice of me, if for no other reason than to further devalue my life in her bemusement. That would have sufficed. I was more than weary, and to fall into the mud face first - a pleasant diversion to a god of the heavens - I could bear however many days remained of my obscure life...with a smile.
What was I? I was her fool. And I had given up.
(above was edited on 3-5-11)
--> It was a stunning reminder that her beauty came not without consequence, as I had so quickly learned the very moment I quaked beneath her grace.
[(4-12-11 suggestion!) Imply that after the sentence above comes in, Nirvana EATS him, and while within her body, he had to fight some kind of monsters. And perhaps that he had to fight a manifestation of HER as well! Suggestive words are below]
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I could not find an opening. I didn't know whether to reprehend her skill for seeming so sloppy and nonchalant in form, or commend her for what must have been a subtle effort to appear deceivingly lethargic. Was there no way to match blows with her? Our difference in physique was no handicap on my part. I have seen how these creatures fight. [SOMETHING THAT WITFULLY CONVEYS Shane and Nirvana's MOTION GOES HERE!] But nonetheless, I kept myself light on my feet, never knowing when nor how she would strike. A well placed blow to the skull may have been the easiest route were it not for our difference in size, but I kept my focus upon her belly, thinking to fell the titan where she may have been softest by way of knocking the very wind out of her.
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...Peace To All. And Ruin Indefinite...
(possible NAME of the story?)But the smallest exertion of hers could send a man flying; him, and possibly others as well, shattering much of the pride of many an unknowledgeable foe within mere seconds.(link) Something Massive (Unfinished)
(link) The Fetishism of My Works, Displayed For Easy Finding.
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