You have been taken by the Mists

Author Topic: The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...  (Read 1384 times)

ThePwush

  • Sigilian Outlander
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  • The mad Red Mink, eh, I mean, Monk ;)
The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...
« on: February 16, 2016, 01:10:39 AM »
Are you truly foolish enough to believe that all writing is only on paper?  Many souls carry the parchment and words of sins inked upon, weight bearing down into the core of the being

...or, beings.......


The idea is fantastical, yet fully pliable.  The Cold wielder is right.  A flying battalion of minks, perched upon geese, would make an effective aerial strike force.  A goo-nks force, ready to deploy at a moment's notice, should be able to fully strike straight at squirrel fortresses:  the trees! They'll ne-....

Fire. Simple as that, Clueless.  Now shut up, barmy bat of the Abyss.  It's enough I have to bear your presence, but your endless prattling is enough to make Pandemonium wail in pain.

And your endless complaining is beyond being just odious.  Or do you perceive yourself benign in such regard?

Pike it, tree cow.
The eternal, Infernal whore, till dust brings you home

....but you're missing the point! Aerial mink combat maneuvers! Think of the patterns they could make! Ohhhhh. A flying were-mink!....

[The ink in these writings is often taken from punctuated tears shed from despair...]

The "Anti-Monk". Crazy is your friend.

Rhetra'Bushion aka Rhetra, Sunshine, Petal, Spazz, "Damn, she's fast," and Her Giddiness.

-Semi-Retired-

ThePwush

  • Sigilian Outlander
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  • Posts: 1773
  • The mad Red Mink, eh, I mean, Monk ;)
Re: The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...
« Reply #1 on: February 20, 2016, 08:07:11 PM »
Are you truly foolish enough to believe that all writing is only on paper?  Many souls carry the parchment and words of sins inked upon, weight bearing down into the core of the being

...or, beings.......


This is too rich, berk.  Really? Barmy pikers.  If they only knew.  Hell, if they'd trip to the dark and realize.  They ain't fooling any bloods.  Knights of the post, across the board.  But there's an advantage in letting they idiots think they lead the pack.  Won't see the knife cutting into the back as they rattle their bone boxes.

....

The choice is not yo--....

Or yours! Which makes the dark of the bet more interesting, fool. Bet to the left.  You won't see it happening....Power's born of not strength, but placement of it.....

[The ink in these writings is often taken from punctuated tears shed from despair...]
The "Anti-Monk". Crazy is your friend.

Rhetra'Bushion aka Rhetra, Sunshine, Petal, Spazz, "Damn, she's fast," and Her Giddiness.

-Semi-Retired-

ThePwush

  • Sigilian Outlander
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  • Posts: 1773
  • The mad Red Mink, eh, I mean, Monk ;)
Re: The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...
« Reply #2 on: April 28, 2016, 01:38:18 AM »

Are you truly foolish enough to believe that all writing is only on paper?  Many souls carry the parchment and words of sins inked upon them, the weight bearing down into the core of the being

....my, my, my...To think that all it ta-


Don't you dare impose direction upon this!  Tears and joy flow only in one direction, and contradictory at that.  It is not your place to dictate the results here.

Me? Dictate? That's a howl Pandemonium would love! Who dictates to the howling masses of barmies locked up tight in the Foundary? No, this one is squarely on the shoulders of another, tree cow!


Save me your inane proclamations.  The lusts borne of desire have always been your trickling weakness.

Me??? You addle-minded, fevered piece of unthinking bark! Who's the representation of lustful men's dreams? Isn't your kind the erotic dreams of lone adventures and drunken wiz-....

Something centered, yet cracked, impacts the soul. Silence from all sides is inflicted as flung insults are barred from the air.  A small, crying plea of uncertainty resounds from a dark recess, notably weak, distant, and frail...


[The ink in these writings is often taken from punctuated tears shed from despair...]
The "Anti-Monk". Crazy is your friend.

Rhetra'Bushion aka Rhetra, Sunshine, Petal, Spazz, "Damn, she's fast," and Her Giddiness.

-Semi-Retired-

ThePwush

  • Sigilian Outlander
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  • Posts: 1773
  • The mad Red Mink, eh, I mean, Monk ;)
Re: The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...
« Reply #3 on: April 28, 2016, 11:30:44 PM »
Are you truly foolish enough to believe that all writing is only on paper?  Many souls carry the parchment and words of sins inked upon them, the weight bearing down into the core of the being

....the pieces of shite! I'm more at home there than mo-.....


Shut up! Shut up! Touching such foulness! Had I known I wa-....

Foulness? You barmy, mindless, ignorant mass of mane loins! It's purity of form! You can't app-...

Purity? You dare charge me with not knowing purity, you un-tethered, unrestrained whore!  At least your ancestors were pummeled, beaten to useless gore! All by your ha-....

DIE! Die right now you yelping piles of deva excrement! You could only wish to bat-....

It was a soft zephyr, blowing through the soul.  Though gentle, it drowned all words without exception. For a short moment in time, the wind gave rise to an airy outline, a seductive silhouette of something both divine and foul, pure and corroded.  A gentle, taunting laugh promising pleasure and betrayal echoed throughout the soul, as a chilled touch burned its print onto a fractured shard of the spirit.  Strangely enough, the wind carried a nearly inaudible chant, an almost impossibly difficult word to perceive....

"Weak"

The zephyr responded by raging through the spirit momentarily. A brutal laughter accompanied the outline of a highly erotic, transparent form teasing the wind with dancing hands and hips before disappearing entirely. The laughter promised a difficult night's rest...

[The ink in these writings is often taken from punctuated tears shed from despair...]
The "Anti-Monk". Crazy is your friend.

Rhetra'Bushion aka Rhetra, Sunshine, Petal, Spazz, "Damn, she's fast," and Her Giddiness.

-Semi-Retired-

ThePwush

  • Sigilian Outlander
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  • Posts: 1773
  • The mad Red Mink, eh, I mean, Monk ;)
Re: The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...
« Reply #4 on: March 01, 2018, 12:24:43 AM »
Are you truly foolish enough to believe that all writing is only on paper?  Many souls carry the parchment and words of sins inked upon them, the weight bearing down into the core of the being

[The ink is replaced with carefully made holes punched into the parchment with care, yet a certain measure of anger and frustration]


So...long. Too long. But a...his name. Wait. Sed-... He, he's okay.  Sedrik. That's the name. At least one remains. Perhaps others are still. Leo? Was his name...but was he a fellow traveler of the Path?  But wait. He, no, she. My sisters? Tealeaf. Small. The Cold mage, and my...my Sh-...my sister, white skinned, and nephew? Nephew? I have have...have....

It's the time.  The time, so much has passed.  So much time.  The mist, it callously takes, but it's crueler with what it leaves. Make the tones stop. Please. Please. PLE-....



[The punctured marks in these writings is taken from tears shed through despair...]
The "Anti-Monk". Crazy is your friend.

Rhetra'Bushion aka Rhetra, Sunshine, Petal, Spazz, "Damn, she's fast," and Her Giddiness.

-Semi-Retired-

ThePwush

  • Sigilian Outlander
  • Dark Power
  • ******
  • Posts: 1773
  • The mad Red Mink, eh, I mean, Monk ;)
Re: The bellowing factory, the wind-swept forest...
« Reply #5 on: March 01, 2018, 07:11:59 PM »
Are you truly foolish enough to believe that all writing is only on paper?  Many souls carry the parchment and words of sins inked upon them, the weight bearing down into the core of the being

[The ink is replaced with carefully made holes punched into the parchment with care, yet a certain measure of anger and frustration]


Arianwen and Rori. Gentle voices, but so surprised to learn that their emergence is from...fr-...there. That place.  That one.  Arian..win? No, Arianwen, that is the proper, she is Kin, yet so unlike the others. Not prone to the over-dramatic nature of...of...her name. His name. I suppose for the moment it will elude me but will return at a moment unexpected. Hopefully.

But Arianwen's value is not only her disposition.  She is of the Path, a student of introspective dedication, tapping the reserves that many unduly fling aside for easier gains.  She is Aesthetic, more in-tune to her potential than she may...might...

Her name is....she is closer to realizing the core tenants than realized.  But her curiosity, not only knowing the dogmatic approach of our Teachings, but the "why" of things, may be her greatest undoing or her most valuable asset. Only time will tell.  But first she must realize that the Path taken is often more important than the destination.  A single tool, no matter how simple, has many uses.  She only needs to decide on her purpose for she has unlocked the tool.   

Why does the other remind me of...of...someone?



[The punctured marks in these writings is taken from tears shed through despair...]
The "Anti-Monk". Crazy is your friend.

Rhetra'Bushion aka Rhetra, Sunshine, Petal, Spazz, "Damn, she's fast," and Her Giddiness.

-Semi-Retired-