|Well uh, this is the titlescreen of my game. The name was decided years ago. Never came up with anything better so i just choose to just keep the name. |
It's not that bad, after all.
Master of RavensMaster of RavensMaster of Ravens by ladyjaida
My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him.
During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him.
My father. Master of Ravens. Crow-Runner. The Blackbird King.
I pull on my winter boots, knot the coarse laces.
My little brother asks, 'Cam. Where are you going?'
'Out,' I tell him.
'To play in the snow?'
'To look at it.'
When he was born, my little brother was named Taliesin. His is a world without myths, of course. Such things perished in the great f
Afraid of you How can you make some be afraid of you? Someone once asked. As far as how Kai looked, he did not possess any physical greatness to pose any threat. He could be easily snapped in two, or whirled over someones shoulder without much effort.Afraid of you by EmptyShadow
Yes I can, he answered quietly, if anybody wishes. His language deficiency only supports mockery around him, but he is already aware of what challenge they have put upon themselves.
Her, her! the boys said, as they pushed a girl toward him. She looked at him fiercely, staring with heavy makeup that emphasized her eyes, as if she triple dare.
This better not waste my time. I have things to do she said, but she was easily persuaded by an easy reward; a total
God Is DeadGod Is Dead by deviantkupo
God's robes flapped around him as he looked over the edge and onto the street below.
"Don't do it! Don't do it!" cried the security guard behind him.
God said nothing, climbing onto the raised edge of the building. Five storeys below, people were beginning to take notice.
"Jesus Christ! Look!
"Oh my god!"
"Where's my camera?"
He turned and faced the security guard, who stopped walking and gazed upon the face of God. He'd been crying.
"But... why? You've got so much to live for..."
God gave a wan smile. "So have all of you."
He spread his arms wide, closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, falling back and off the building.
* * *
A crowd was gathering around the black, sticky mess that remained of What-Once-Was Our Lord.
"Is he dead?"
"Who is it?"
"Where's my camera?"
The bystander effect was operating at maximum efficiency, causing everyone to just stand there and looked at the mangled remains. Presently, however, a fine upstan
I've been assigned a cleaning duty to the DoomsdayNow Group. So I'll be reviewing stuff and making sure it qualifies as actual apocalyptic art. Seriously, a gas mask and a sad smile doesn't necessarily have to qualify as apocalyptic art. It looks more like it's some kind of gas mask fetish, looks even more so when you point out the fact that the person in question is naked.
That's all for me.
Current Residence: Sweden, Mölnlycke
Favourite genre of music: Rock, Techno, Trance, Metal, Folk Metal
Operating System: Due to my game addiction, Windows 7.
MP3 player of choice: iAudio, mainly because it supports so many file formats.