Subject: [kffdisc] More than Mortal (Prologue) again. Date: Sat, 27 Mar 1999 23:51:22 +0800 From: "Johnny Chu" Reply-To: kffdisc@onelist.com To: From: "Johnny Chu" Are Tomoe's eyes red? Purple? Or blue? @_@ I really don't know so I mixed the colours up. Did you know you end up with a disgustingly livid reddish brown. Maybe it's because I mixed blood in... Anyway here is the prologue again cos' I _think_ Onelist did'nt get the mail or someone else besides Dr. Panda would have critised. Jien "Romeo. Oh Romeo, Where art thou Romeo?" "Down here you #$%#$!!" himurabattousai@hotmail.com Thinker's Block http://members.spree.com/sci-fi/jienc/ Skinless-An Anime Skins Archive. http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Shrine/5787 ******************************************************************** Disclaimer: The characters of Rurouni Kenshin are copyright of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Sony Entertainment, etc. I don't own them but I wished I did. *whips out calculator* Ummm. Royalties! Usual inspiration of extreme pain, dank, dark rooms and excess cappucino. I don't know what a dark fic is, but this MAY be a SADfic. I don't know. I usually don't think of myself as an author. If I called myself an author, that would imply that I come up with my own ideas. But most of the time, I can't shake the suspicion that the characters think the stories up. Then they show up on my doorstep--probably because the people on the list who can actually write are already booked solid--and wait for me to do something intelligent with them. So I feel kind of bad when a story misfires; I feel like I've let the character down. If you feel that I'm not giving the characters enough credit or if they are beginning to act OOC, please, please tell me. Critism, constructive or not, is always welcome. Thank you. For posting rights, please e-mail me ******************************************************************** More than Mortal by Jien Prologue It was not true darkness. Even in the deepest depths he could see variations in it like a pattern in a child's shadowbox diorama. Fog roiled over the ground concealing it but he could smell the stench, the odour of death and decay, could feel the dampness of cobblestones beneath seep through his slippers into his tabi. A fogbank rose before him like a towering tsunami of silver gray but it dissipated before the descending waves could crash on to him. The mist dimmed, receding to the edges of his vision revealing familiar shadows. He knew this place. Rude shacks of roughly hewn timber stretched forward until they became houses of increasing grandeur and met the horizon as tiered and many-storeyed temples and pagodas. He had seen this place in morning light and dew, as though awash in blood and fire, and he had seen it draped in midnight's clouds and moonbeams as he had stalked furtively through the streets but he had never seen it in hell. For now it truly was hell. In the dim light, each ruined building seemed to glow with a sickening greenish white glow like decaying fungus. His mind recoiled as he inspected the buildings closely. Every brick, every stone had been replaced with bone. The city shivered and whispers rose from each nook and cranny. The whispers were tinged with longing and hunger. Something a distant part of his mind recognized and craved along with the outcast whisperers. A tendril of fog rolled out from a window, never wavering, creeping forward to meet another that inched out of a gaping maw of ruined hut. The twain met and rose together in a cloud of choking gray. Slowly it began to ebb away leaving a presence before him. Yet this was unlike any of the others he had encountered before. A face worn with care and worries yet as beautiful as an immortal. A pair of sad and mystical eyes of an alluring red and purple. The phantasm reached out with one hand and spoke. "Come home..." The dreamer screamed. As he did, he fell backwards away from the hand offering forgiveness and his eyes fled from that pale visage and locked on to the sky. There were no stars. Only a grimacing face that glowed as blood ran down its sides, that contorted as it screamed in silent anguish. It was his own. OWARI (for the time being) I like comments. I love comments. I NEED comments! GIVE ME COMMENTS, OR YOU ALL WILL DIE! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! (pause, as crickets can be heard in the background) Kenshin! Sano! Get out of THERE!!!!!! oh, sorry, went too far, alienated everyone, again... You get the picture, reply, NOW! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ New hobbies? New curiosities? New enthusiasms? http://www.onelist.com Sign up for a new email list today