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Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Here's a short one, starring nobody in particular.
Shield
Spoiler
She ran, knowing only darkness, into the endless void. There was no light here, and in all the time she had spent in this pit, she had never seen another person. For she could see here. There was no light, but she could see her hands in front of her as she ran. Lifeless grey, they were, all the colour leeched away by this place.
This place, and the things that followed her.
They were innumerable and nameless, creatures of despair and darkness that fed on hope. They had pursued her as far back as she could remember, chasing her through featureless surroundings, waiting for her to stumble.
She had run for so long. She was tiring. She stumbled, fell, and the unseen horrors leaped forward, sensing a moment of weakness.
Suddenly, there was someone else there. A being who shone in the darkness, clad in ornately worked armour of burnished steel. He faced the demons, placing himself between her and them, raising his shield to ward them off. They recoiled, and she looked up, almost daring to hope.
"Who are you?" She asked.
"Love." He said, and his sword rang as he drew it.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Grim ranger
What? He totally deserves it! And besides, it's not like I would become a lady by choice, inlike Reiny here
Well I would've become Catman but he doesn't even make the B-list of Batman villains. More like the F-list. The fact I've heard of him should say something about me though.
@ Destro - Moving. You're most certainly a romantic-style author too.
Crazy paladins.
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Okay, I've been working on this one for a while now, I've just been kinda suffering from writer's block lately, so I kinda came to a halt for about a week.
The House the Magtok Built part 1 of 2
Featuring- Lord Magtok as Magtok
Vullion as Kidnapped Scientist Dude
Thanatos 51-50 as Thorn AKA Terry Foster
Rabbitholelost as Black Rabbit AKA Jessica Foster
Spoiler
Averonia, 735 SR (Skran's Revolution)
The room is pitch black. It's many windows are all darkened. Inside the room sits a man,invisible, if it weren't for his glowing red eyes, staring into what is assumed to be a doorway. But he grins. For he knows something.
Then, without any sound, and completely unseen, a figure swoops in, kicking the red eyed man in the gut. The figure wore a visor that allowed him to see perfectly. He possessed several other technologies on him. With a quick compression of the wrist, he launches a dart into the man's thigh.
And like that, Magtok went down. Thorn sent him to Rovelands special moving security center. Guarded by the most elite dwarven and giant soldiers known to the world, this place had a 0% Escape Rate.
Averonia, 745 SR
Thorn, having rid Devvin City of all it's major crimelords, finally settled down. He married his occasionally partner Black Rabbit, and at the moment it had been a whole year since his last fight with the forces of evil. It was a feeling he'd never forget. But it was over with. He was a successful realtor.
Besides, even if things did happen, there were several younger heroes ready to take action. It's not like he'd still fit in his old costume. And him and Jessica were considering kids- not now, but soon. Yeah. It's not like he'd even want to go back to that life.
But the world has a way of making things happen. Up, high in the skies, there was a giant flying manta, flying fast. Yet those aboard it- and there were plenty, including a large prison, didn't seem to be affected by the speed. The creature didn't seem to care what got in it's way. The occasional bird was even less than a gnat on a windshield to it. It didn't care.
The prison was nothing less than Rovelands Flying Prison. The guards all elite. But today... today was a very special day.
It was feeding day. The guards only did this once a century, and so today would be the day the old guards retired and the young ones took there place. It also meant a new crew of new guards would be coming in. The guards had to do it this way. 200 years solid, yet it set them for life.
It was also the only day for a hundred years that the guards weren't watching every prisoner at every moment. Not that they left them unattended for more than, oh, say five minutes at any given moment, but at any other day, they would be vigilant and have at least two guards to each prisoner, even when new prisoners came in, and they still had enough to put guards on them too. There were thousands of guards on the manta. Tens of thousands. It was a very, very important duty.
Now, for the prisoners, the more or less five minute window would be useless. The guards could put down a single prisoner in one second. Hell, they could probably take on the entire lot of them if they pleased. The conditions left the villains in less than peak condition. Some living for several centuries here. Some, like Magtok, only ten years. And he was different anyways.
Magtok was a very evil person. Not that all these other clowns weren't. Cause they were- but he was somehow darker. A quality in his soul worse than demonic, cause there were demons in fact, amongst the ranks. Devils too. But that's besides the point.
The dark spark in his center pulsed strong today. He was able to do something that none of the other prisoners could do. He sent a signal through the magical barriers, a thin one, but strong enough to send his message to a small robot. The robot activated a few more, and it informed all of Magtok's mechanical army to be ready. And follow his signal, and then followed the manta, slowly and far behind, but surely.
Then the day came. It was like none other- the guards sat and the giants quickly marched out, and got the trough for the manta. The dwarves, old and new, stayed on board. They patrolled vigilantly. And Magtok waited for the right moment. The guards passed his hallway. Then, at that moment, the old crew was to leave. That's when the tiny robot came in... carrying Magtok's belt of wonderful things. As well as a ring. "The ring first." whispered Magtok. It was a magical ring. It'd cause the bars shock factor to take into effect. But at that exact moment, a swarm of robots would invade. The robots all started picking off the younger, new new recruits first, before they were noticed. The guards all charged. And some from the manta came out too.
Magtok finally shorted the bars, without being heard. He took his tool set. Outside, he could hear the sound of metal being destroyed, but they did a good job. Magtok put on his belt, and from it took his lock pick (supreme, as it is) kit out and went to work on the lock. It had been one minute, and he was out.
His robot smiled. "Okay boy..." He picked it up by its neck and tossed it at the bars of the cell right next to him. The robot shattered, but none of the electricity this time. "Good." He worked and let loose several of the nearby prisoners.
It had been three, and the robots were done. They'd know they were Magtok's soon. But he didn't care. He let loose several of the prisoners, and they were ready to fight. He grabbed one of the guys that could fly and said "Let's get the hell out of here. This won't be good." The guy smiled and flew off.
A few days later, the man found himself in a public restroom, washing his face and combing his fingers through his hair. The demon he hitched a ride with sat down near a small bit of woods. But Magtok didn't care about that. He looked at himself. "I need to shave these hippie rags off... But no... I can't go bald, not yet. I have to disguise myself if I want to properly get revenge on him." Magtok stepped around, going over his revenge.
He first went to the demon. "We leave tonight. Volshock's Island."
That night, he swept into a private island mansion and kidnapped a scientist. He stuck him in some dank basement. The scientist looked around. He didn't seem like a scientist. He wore big sunglasses and a stained white wife beater. He had stubble over his face, but no actual beard, and no mustache. His hair was shaggy, and sticking from his mouth was a cancer stick.
"What the hell man!" Barks the scientist. "Why'd you go and kidnap me! I f***in coulda been over to your place in the morning, if you'd of called, but no, you go and..."
Magtok pointed a tiny dart launcher, armed on his wrist, at the man who was going on and on. "Listen, I don't want to interrupt your happy time, but I'm kinda in a hurry. I know your Frank Vulshock, you build lairs for super villains like me, don't you." The guy nodded. "Good. Now, I need one built fast... and effective... and you'll work pro bono."
"Aw, man, what the hell!" Coughed the scientist. "I'm kinda..." He thought for a moment. It was a text book example of the kidnapped scientist, and if he wanted to live, he'd have to work. But, at least he could try and get something out of this. "Fine. But I need a few things. Cigarettes, cartons of them. And for those special moments... the finest whiskey they got." Magtok kinda looked at him. "Hey- occupational equipment. This is how I work." Magtok smiled.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Thanks for the praise. I feed off of it like...I can't think of anything that wouldn't offend someone.
I just like feedback
Mango: Good to see you writing something again, you sick, twisted bastard <3 Des: Interesting. It, for some reason, gives me a little bit of deja vue. Like you might have written something similar to you.
You're so much a romantic. Jesse: I r intriqued. Very interesting.
Also, wait, what? Rabbit was a hero?
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by RabbitHoleLost
Jesse: I r intriqued. Very interesting.
Also, wait, what? Rabbit was a hero?
Uh, yeah, kinda. More like Venom or Catwoman, sometimes helps the hero, eventually went to becoming a hero, then left the super hero life completely. But the name is Black Rabbit, it's more of a Batman deal, it's very brooding, doesn't play well with others (except for Thorn of course).
Also, I can guarantee part two will have no zombies, cybernetic or otherwise.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Alright, now that I'm sporting a proper, personalized Avatar, I volunteer for shipping!
But...please let my first shipping be something nice? I'm okay with being embarrassed, just not tortured or mutilated or causing harm to any other people, even in fiction.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Introbulus
Alright, now that I'm sporting a proper, personalized Avatar, I volunteer for shipping!
But...please let my first shipping be something nice? I'm okay with being embarrassed, just not tortured or mutilated or causing harm to any other people, even in fiction.
Ooops, well then, out of the running for my ship.
OK, Cask of Amontillado will star Reinholdt and...I NEED SOMEONE ELSE!
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Introbulus
Alright, now that I'm sporting a proper, personalized Avatar, I volunteer for shipping!
But...please let my first shipping be something nice? I'm okay with being embarrassed, just not tortured or mutilated or causing harm to any other people, even in fiction.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Ship for Introbulus. This is my first one that is not the continuing of my self-glorifying war ship. Anyways, in light on literature, I decided to just slap you into this classic.
Cast-Introbulus
Nameless
Rabbit as Lenore
The Raven
Spoiler
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Sir, said I, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore!
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I said, art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Doubtless, said I, what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Nevermore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking Nevermore.
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by angels whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked upstarting -
Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
OK, Jacklu and Reiny. The question is...who walls up who?
Poe is my favorite author. Ever. And I feel bad for missing his anniversary, so I have to make amends. His birthday is coming up in January, so perhaps something to mark THAT occasion will be called for.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Reinholdt
Aww... I wanted to be the deranged murderer...
*goes to sulk in his always the victim corner*
The deranged murderer who kills his best friend for doing nothing?
See, if I'm going to kill someone, I'd like there to be a reason other than "I think he was giving me a bad look once. Maybe."
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by RabbitHoleLost
The deranged murderer who kills his best friend for doing nothing?
See, if I'm going to kill someone, I'd like there to be a reason other than "I think he was giving me a bad look once. Maybe."
>>
<<
I've done worse.
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Silverraptor
Ship for Introbulus. This is my first one that is not the continuing of my self-glorifying war ship. Anyways, in light on literature, I decided to just slap you into this classic.
Cast-Introbulus
Nameless
Rabbit as Lenore
The Raven
Spoiler
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Sir, said I, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore!
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I said, art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Doubtless, said I, what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Nevermore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking Nevermore.
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by angels whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked upstarting -
Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
...I thought I was prepared for anything.
...I was definitely not prepared to be reconditioned into an Edgar Allen Poe classic.
I'm...actually a little disappointed. But I guess I'm not much to work with...*tail sag*
Quote:
Originally Posted by Nameless
Woofter! *glomps*
*Tail wag* Ah...^w^ My son. Always there to cheer me up. *hug*
...Anybody else wanna give it a go? <.<
__________________
Spoiler
Quote:
Originally Posted by PhoeKun
...How does one cuddle mercilessly?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Coidzor
Curse your Introbulosity!
Last edited by Introbulus : 11-11-2009 at 03:00 PM.
Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Silverraptor
Ship for Introbulus. This is my first one that is not the continuing of my self-glorifying war ship. Anyways, in light on literature, I decided to just slap you into this classic.
Cast-Introbulus
Nameless
Rabbit as Lenore
The Raven
Spoiler
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Sir, said I, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore!
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I said, art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Doubtless, said I, what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Nevermore."
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking Nevermore.
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by angels whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Prophet! said I, thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked upstarting -
Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Quoth the raven, Nevermore.
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
You got a story I love and made it more awesome.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Introbulus
...I thought I was prepared for anything.
...I was definitely not prepared to be reconditioned into an Edgar Allen Poe classic.
I'm...actually a little disappointed. But I guess I'm not much to work with...*tail sag*
*Tail wag* Ah...^w^ My son. Always there to cheer me up. *hug*
...Anybody else wanna give it a go? <.<
Teacher: So children, what are your fathers?
Student 1: My daddy's a police man!
Student 2: My daddy's a doctor!
Nameless: My daddy's a dog. o_o
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Re: Shipping VIII: Yes, Eight. No, really. We are THAT insane.
