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Eternal Engine: Oni
The air is still… cold clings to it, and there's a feint touch of dampness to it. My breathing is steady, my mind at ease. All things around me slow, and as I inch my left foot forward, I can feel and anticipate every action and reaction that shall soon take place within but the blink of an eye.
My blade is pure, my intentions of equal quality, but soon both are soiled with blood. Three of them surround me, and their whispers sound like death. Their feet cause life to spring fourth, but their claws reap the earth of all things. Metal clangs in the night, they harvest nothing, and I take from them the air that no longer burns in their lungs.
Everything spins, I am not where I should be, nor is the earth I stand upon what it should be. I feel my way past everything, if I still had eyes I would survey this new and strange place, but I can not. They were taken from me, and the only reminder I carry is the large gash across my face. I see things now, but not as I should. Lines trace the air
Eternal Engine: Genesis
A seed it could be for a plant, or for an idea. It starts life as something small, but with nurturing, itll grow and mature and become strong and unbreakable. If mistreated though, it will wither and rot, and become but a shadow of what it could be.
It takes a great deal of time, but the tree will emerge from the seed, branches will come, and leaves shall grow. There are other seeds though, planted of ill will and neglected by those whom wander this world. One of those seeds took to the air, and there it sprouted.
The only way to see the sun set now is to make it happen yourself, travel and wandering allows you to see the world spinning again, even if youre the only one spinning.
I have no idea how I came to be in this place, and what I remember of my life before any of this is vague at best.
A woman stands next to a tree a soft smile and whispers of love and kindness, and it all turns to ash. The kind smile turned to flame, and the field I stood in was smote to
Lament of DeathToday's lamentation: Death. I've seen a lot of it, and I grow weary of how most modern people treat it. These days I grow a little sick of the shit around that treats death so lightly. I miss the kinds of stories where a duel between two or more people had emotional complexity.
A long time ago I used death in my stories often for two reasons.
1- I wanted people to face finality… that they could and should value what they do in this life and not work towards what they do in the next.
2- Because at the time, I was sure nothing happened once we all kicked the bucket.
Now though, while death is still a strong theme, it's there for new reasons.
When Third Horizon began the death of Joshua's friends and family was just another thing to push him over the edge, now though, it's a mirror of his mistakes, a mirror of what he never did, and a judgment for his sins. When the tables turn on him it's all the more shocking and all the more impacting now that it's just more than "hey these dudes died.
Eternal Engine: Day of Eyes
Twilight holds secrets, daylight fosters hope, darkness speaks of lies and evils, and dawn brings with it the promise of something new. In times of old these cycles would repeat, and all would experience the hollow whispers that come at night, but now the only way to know that these things cycled are in books that speak of day and night.
Books... they are relics now... tomes of fiction and truth that blind and mislead many as to how things used to be. Many interpret them, some see truth, others see visions of their former life, and some that are wise see nothing but words.
Maybe there's a devil in them all...
Maybe the ruin of all things comes crumbling before their weight, that they hold what we can not.
Maybe they're just what they seem to be, manufactured ways for creatures to communicate ideas.
There are many that ponder the meaning of books now. Most can read them and understand, but no one has any idea where they all came from. The odd part is we can never know who wrote t
Eternal Engine: Ten-Song 02
SONG 05: Sapphire Tears
There is a cave far away from all things. Hidden in this icy tomb is the regret of a thousand souls, condensed into crystal like projections of the world that none see. Forms obscured by darkness, only leaving behind the faint feeling of looming towers that span from nothing to infinity.
An angel of light rests his face on cold stone, surrounded by molting wings. The light he once cherished has forsaken him, and now he bleeds into eternity. One stands near, blinding him with light, chanting fourth that which begged him to be what he denied for so long.
"Clutch me dear," poisonous…
"Hold me near," invading…
"Dispel all the things I fear."
Bitter memories, soaking in rain and laughing, hiding under a tree… running from the world, wings that bore freedom just as much as they bore truth.
Things faded, and the hand of love could not guide the blind, nor could it guide someone tethered to another fate. Reflection faded, the skin peeled and paled as the wings me
Eternal Engine: Ten-Song 01
Sing the song that no one will hear, sing of the world as no one knows. Sing of me, and sing of you.
Ten steps and we repeat the process, the song isn't anything but the whispers of the wind, and the actions of what we do is nothing more than a dance, wonderfully in sync with the music we can't hear.
Ten songs… Ten songs populate this strange device that's always at hand for me. Ten songs and I can't understand any of them.
Menu: Playlists: Ten-Song…
Ten-Song… my name… my life…
The first movement comes into a sick rhythm, it sends me back to a time where my cares were few and my joys were many, a time before memory, a time before hatred and love…
SONG 01: Fake Creation
The sound of a million lies comes dangerously into play. Shattered voices that speak nothing and usher themselves back into the void. A clap of sound and a sputtering play comes in and out of focus like a heartbeat, rhythmic and disdainful, the sound of a cacophonous monster screaming out into everything.
Eternal Engine: Samurai
Few remember. I stood watch and guarded those whom bore nothing to this world. Laughter plays across my mind like some sorrowful symphony. Children, their parents, dancing in a field as free as anything, but confined by me… I watched them, guarded them. I kept order.
I protected them in their beautiful prison. Flowers grew in the eastern hills, and all along the wall grew vines that bloomed with white flowers. The houses stood and the setting sun was always with us with the gentle breeze. They laughed and played, and partook of a life that was devoid of meaning, but always fulfilling.
It is ironic that I discovered this place. No memory of my own, but I discovered what allowed others to remember. This green place here, standing out as a wonderful ring among the dead, where rot and death is kept in the center of love and singing. Sweet sounds and smells would fill the constantly dim air, and all knew of such wonderful things.
My life started then, but never was it my own. I knew early a
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