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Post by Deleted on Sept 17, 2016 20:11:14 GMT -5
Hmm interesting
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Post by ๖ۣۜCrossroads on Sept 17, 2016 23:01:21 GMT -5
There's literally only one thing you think about when you see me.
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 8:50:46 GMT -5
Do one for my avatar, I dare you And please The air tasted like cigarette smoke; harsh and unforgiving with each breath drawn in. The room was dark, the lights were out. The stillness of the night was not calming, however. The tension in the air grew with each passing second. I sat stiff at the desk, eyes wide and my heart racing. The quiet thump-thump of my heart was the only sound in the room. Occasionally the lights would spark and hiss, but they never came on. I sat there still waiting, expecting it at any moment, and yet I never even saw them coming. Another life goes into the night; I couldn't let 'em breathe 'cause I didn't wanna die.
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Post by John 3:16 on Sept 20, 2016 9:15:38 GMT -5
hello fren
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Bleak
FINAL SEMESTER, LET'S GOOOOOO
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Post by Bleak on Sept 20, 2016 9:52:48 GMT -5
Do one for my avatar, I dare you And please The air tasted like cigarette smoke; harsh and unforgiving with each breath drawn in. The room was dark, the lights were out. The stillness of the night was not calming, however. The tension in the air grew with each passing second. I sat stiff at the desk, eyes wide and my heart racing. The quiet thump-thump of my heart was the only sound in the room. Occasionally the lights would spark and hiss, but they never came on. I sat there still waiting, expecting it at any moment, and yet I never even saw them coming. Another life goes into the night; I couldn't let 'em breathe 'cause I didn't wanna die. Oh my god. If my old brain remembers correctly, that last full sentence are actual lyrics from an Hollywood Undead song (I can't remember which because they have like 80 songs, but I'm pretty sure it was an American Tragedy song with Johnny3 Tears singing that) Now I know why my parents are disappointed in me, I can remember stuff like that but not math of history. Thank you so much! You are my new best friend
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 15:37:21 GMT -5
that'd be cool! yes please <3 It was like a mighty banquet hall, except of ice. Towering ice, spires that reached upwards like a castle, tall and menacing. Walls of ice, hundreds of feet high. Slick, glossy and dark, dark blue. The thin crack above let the light through, casting thin shadows on the cave floor underfoot. Each step echoed, the distant drip drip of running water, a warning. Spring was coming soon, and with it brought the thaw. Rivers of ice and snow would sweep through the mountains, ripping its way through rock and hollowing out the earth itself. The sheets of ice would recede and the ocean would move once again. The chill had closed in, and just wandering these frostbitten halls was enough to send shivers down one’s spine. It was as if one were to walk the path of a warrior of winter itself. The fjord howled with the distant sound of wolves and the lonely cries of the wind. It was shocking to think that by the coming of Spring, as if by magic, this noble and magnificent land would have vanished under the light of the sun.
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 15:46:09 GMT -5
Many would argue that to tell a lie is to do wrong, yet many of those same souls could not have a care in the world when it was their turn to speak. They’d throw away words, not caring who they broke. Not caring who they seized up, hoisting them in the air by the collar of their shirt just to laugh. A haunting cold laugh that would echo in the ears and the dread that would sink like a stone down to the bottom and never let go. Those liars would have a good chuckle at that, and leave an innocent bystander on their knees, on the floor, believing the lies that she could be ugly. She would beat her fists against the walls, turned mad at the thought that things weren’t how they seemed. It turned one into a monster who spat cruel words at others, clawing at the doors that held them in until it splintered and their fingers bleed. The only thing ugly was those wrongdoing words, that cycle of lies that they made to be true. Yet, if a lie leaves only feeling bitter, why does it taste so sweet on the lips?
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 15:58:15 GMT -5
There's literally only one thing you think about when you see me. [Well, I certainly hope it wasn’t this; this one is loosely based on today’s events, so it won’t make much sense to you.] A tap tap rang out on the door of room A-11, breaking the quiet of the lonely halls. The room was almost empty at this time of night; the students had gone home with homework tucked under their arms. A few stray papers still lay on the desks; forgotten. It was a shame that they would wake up so early, only to realize they were done for, doomed. But for now the rooms was void of young kiddies, ready to learn. The lights were off except the sole, single one that sat on Dr. Hampton’s desk. The man sat there, the scratch of his pencil against the paper loud in the silence of the room. The smell of pencils shavings was fresh in the air; he wrote with the thinnest of lines and had to have it just so. Why, from the lesson only three hours before, there were still his large loopy letters sprawled across the white board. He shook his head with a sad little smile, pitying the student who’d forgotten his notes.
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Post by Percival de Rolo III on Sept 20, 2016 16:06:31 GMT -5
I thought this was another opinion thread and I was like, seriously another one ??? But this is much cooler haha.
I also love your signature, its literally my life. :3
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 16:06:50 GMT -5
hello fren The smell of rain was wet in the early autumn air. The grass was still brown and dried from the summer, and the the whole park had felt parched. But now, the rains had come again, and even the pine trees bowed their great heads. The damp soaking into the ground and turning it to mud. Squeaking and squealing with every step, a young man mourn his wet tennis shoes (which would have been quite a nice pair, had it not been for the mud that now caked the once vibrant hues). The strong, sappy scent of pines had long grown dull; there was only the grey clouds and that grey, earth smell. Worms had emerged from deep in the ground, wriggling across the path. The slugs even seemed to stop to enjoy the beauty of the storm. The man, however, held his textbooks over his head, cursing himself for forgetting to check the weather.
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 16:16:14 GMT -5
I thought this was another opinion thread and I was like, seriously another one ??? But this is much cooler haha.
I also love your signature, its literally my life. :3 Thank you! It's slowly becoming more and more true for me... And I'm glad I could be a nice change of pace.] The golden sand felt scorched and hot, cooling only when the large, blue green waves crashed down and the tide receded. The sun was bright; shimmering down on the beach with enough light to blind a man. And there one such man lay, tiny fragments of shells and strands of seaweed, sharp and unforgiving as the dug into his palms. When he weakly opened his eyes, sprawled out on his chest, he could see the shells, glass and rocks littered the entire beach. Every so often a piece of driftwood would wash ashore, but never much more than that. The water lapped gently against the sand. The wind was soft, the breeze hot and humid. The scent of salt, rust and the copper tang of blood filled the air. Many liked to say there was a scent to fear; if that was the truth, this smelled like it. There was a constant, dull roar of the ocean that was interrupted only by the cry of seabirds in the distance. Farther from the shore towered a mighty jungle with tall green trees with dark brown trunks. Rocky, mountainous cliffs jutted out to the left. And to his right? More sand.
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Post by ๖ۣۜCrossroads on Sept 20, 2016 17:08:35 GMT -5
There's literally only one thing you think about when you see me. [Well, I certainly hope it wasn’t this; this one is loosely based on today’s events, so it won’t make much sense to you.] A tap tap rang out on the door of room A-11, breaking the quiet of the lonely halls. The room was almost empty at this time of night; the students had gone home with homework tucked under their arms. A few stray papers still lay on the desks; forgotten. It was a shame that they would wake up so early, only to realize they were done for, doomed. But for now the rooms was void of young kiddies, ready to learn. The lights were off except the sole, single one that sat on Dr. Hampton’s desk. The man sat there, the scratch of his pencil against the paper loud in the silence of the room. The smell of pencils shavings was fresh in the air; he wrote with the thinnest of lines and had to have it just so. Why, from the lesson only three hours before, there were still his large loopy letters sprawled across the white board. He shook his head with a sad little smile, pitying the student who’d forgotten his notes. This actually relates to me a lot, except for the fact that I never take notes.
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Post by Suspicious Toast on Sept 20, 2016 17:09:16 GMT -5
whynot
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Sept 20, 2016 19:21:20 GMT -5
There wasn’t a breeze here to brush over one’s face, but rather the stillness of an empty room. The room itself was circular, curving around a giant pit. And even if one shone a light down to the depths of that pit, they would not see the bottom. Yes, there was something ominous about the sheltered hall. The walls smelled of wet stone, and distant screams echoed back. Black petals fluttered astray from dark roses strung on the metal balcony that overlooked the rest of the room. The thorny vines hung loosely, not brown and dead, but freshly picked. Wooden bowls lay in a ring on the floor, holding a mixture of red paints and dark ash. Faint light was cast by the dripping wax candles that rested in metal holders on the smooth stone walls. It was a beautiful darkness; one that would touch the blackest of hearts.
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