Angel's Drunken Ramblings

Drunken_Angel

Princess Absinthe
Joined
May 8, 2010
Posts
2,576
A small notebook lined in green and covered with soft tan suede. Its pages traced with elegant script. These are my ramblings.. some works in progress, maybe a story or two, some snippets. Feel free to read and comment if you like.

This first one may do well with a co-writer as a thread, I haven't decided yet.


Aelyus

Her bare feet made tracks over the unnatural ground, each step leaving tiny bits of her essence behind, leached into the unforgiving pavement. Minute angry stones, so far from their home took their anger out on the raw soles of her tired feet. She'd been wandering for days.

It was the hot season, the time when it was expected that you had already prepared, leaves budded, rutting complete, new roots spread into the ground. In so many ways Her creatures should by now be past newness and prepared for the incubating sun that so parched the earth even while its radiance ripened fruit and grain. Aelyus was out of cycle. There had been no rutting for her, no mating, her body lay fallow for want of a child. She was barely a child herself and what should have been her first season found her wandering unnatural stone.

A breeze whipped past her, teasing. It lifted her skirt, exposing her calves to the hot air, the back of her knees to the fierce sun. Aelyus could feel its baleful glare condemning and punishing. Ethereal eyes followed the errant breeze as it lazily lifted a small bit of paper into the air. Signs, portents, everything that happened, everything that moved reflected her goddesses’ will. Even amidst this place the humans called a city, most living things knew and followed the rhythm of the land and if one looked closely and listened carefully, one could find one's way in life. She could find her way.

Humans. They had risen suddenly, not so long ago in her people’s memory, a mere blink and they were there trodding the soil in feet as bare as hers. Unlike her they were born to this land, rising from the ocean’s gestating womb. For millennia they had roamed, foraging, dancing, fucking, fighting, crying out in glorious celebration of spirit; a spirit that was the pride of their earthly mother. But something went wrong. Human feet no longer touched the earth. They no longer meandered here and there, following the flow of their mother, but rather made straight lines, carving Her flesh to impose their own will. They secluded themselves in artificial dwellings that blocked out the sun and the wind and rain, separated them from life herself.

Aelyus took shelter under an awning of some building seemingly made of air. Its reflective surface proved hard to the touch, sturdy enough to lean against and rest. A delicate hand reached into a small bag and emerged with a couple of grapes. This was the last of her food. Fruit didn’t last long in this sun, but only the juice of it was close enough to the nectar that her body craved. She needed more, had to stay strong for the months to come when new life would begin stirring inside her.

As she sat on the raging unforgiving street, watching the two legged creatures follow their garish straight lines she pulled her knees to her chest and let her tears reach across the void, begging for the hand of her mother.
 
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-- Story or SRP Idea: Daddy's Girl --

summary: Two girls, each despising what they see in the other, yet drawn to it. They are perfect matches in a way, perfectly opposite, embodying what the other lacks. Identity begins to unravel, however, as they find the other far more complex than expected, forcing each girl to confront her own simplicity. What emerges is a deeper sense of self, a capacity to love and a connection with life that neither knew they were missing.

** advice appreciated**
While I've put a lot of thought into making these character's complex, I still cant help but feel like they are constructs that are almost cliche. I could use some advice on tweaking them to make them more interesting, but to still keep the drives and character development. Thanks!! Will edit as the idea develops.

Detailed descriptions, psych profiles and potentials.



Main Character
traditional, privileged
long blond hair
makeup done just so
fair complexion, perfect nose
fitted, but not too revealing clothing
modesty, but not old fashioned

Second Character
pixie hair cut
piercings
industrial goth look
Below are some images that come close, but aren’t quite right


Demeanor
Main Character – spoiled but cultured enough to hide it,
superficial connection with life- a life created by a sheltered and privileged upbringing.
just on the outer edge of puberty – supposed to wait for marriage, but already kissed boys in secret- no more than making out and feeling up though.... too scared to go farther.

girls are taboo, of course.

Even when sneaking around with boys, defying her parents, she still replicates their values in her selection. Titillated, more by the forbidden nature of sex, than the boys themselves. Secretly looking for, but cannot fully imagine freedom. Searches for freedom currently go only so far, just a glimpse of the underpinnings of self. A hint of the woman underneath, buried under layers of privileged existence.

Inwardly, there is a woman inside, watching, waiting, captive. This inner self- drives and pushes her toward the forbidden, nudges her with thoughts and feelings, whispers of desire.

To be discovered: connection. Connection to living, emotional response to people, places, touch, looks. Vitality, deep sense of self. Full definition of self separate from parents. Adulthood- many never make it.

Character 2

Punk, anti establishment, possibly an activist. Driven, focused and directed. Unafraid. Takes life by the horns and kicks its ass. Her outward interactions, like the protagonist, have been built by her life. Seeing a mother who cared, but was emotionally crippled... a father absent in all but name. Very little supervision as a child, learned about world through direct experience, some of it negative, some positive, all requiring a fearless tenacity and a hard edge.

Attraction to heroine.
Protagonist is not happy, never has been. Inwardly she misses and longs for a mother's love, a father's closeness. She would likely not admit it, but she envies the spoiled little rich girls she so loves to malign. She finds herself repulsed, at first despising character one, but inwardly longing for what the girl represents. The long flat-ironed hair, the perfectly coordinated preppy clothes, the slightly haughty way in which the protagonist views the world... all of these speak of what she subconsciously feels she is missing. Seduction is her unconscious attempt to bring into her life that which is missing.

Where I see this going:

Character 1 finds self... at first it is a self in opposition to parents, but later, as development progresses, she begins to differentiate in such a a way as to incorporate some of the positive elements of her upbringing and finding the courage to reject and change the ones that do not fit. In so doing she finds her connection with women and her capacity to love.

Character 2
At first, Character 1 is nothing more than a conquest, Char 2 challenges character 1 and leads her further and further into rebellion. At each stage however, the antagonist struggles with two major forces.... a growing emotional bond with the woman she seems to despise and the loss of an image of familial love (embodied by Character 1) that, though simplistic, also serves to define her through its absence.

Both, over time, come face to face with their own psychological boundaries and definitions... both undermine them... and each growth brings more of their inner self forward, but at the fearful cost of that which defines them. Happiness may or may not be achieved, but they find something in each other that transcends the mutual needs that initially bring them together. Whether they hold on to that......and to each other is any one’s guess. They may just be with each other a short time..... but they carry that experience with them, forever changed.

http://i878.photobucket.com/albums/ab345/angelic_bound/girldraonfullbody.jpg http://i878.photobucket.com/albums/ab345/angelic_bound/girldragonheadshot.jpg http://i878.photobucket.com/albums/ab345/angelic_bound/girldragonhalfbodybest.jpg
 
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------------------------

Dark Water

my body speaks to me in motion
sadness flows over me, touching my skin
I feel it in my toes, a torrent of tears
My stomach heaves

my face is like a clown's
mouth open, sides curved down
it is not pretty

and the single drop of water is exquisite,
it flows down my cheek like victory
leaving me defenseless in its wake

I want to succumb
to throw myself at the mercy
of dark water
to sink deep into the primordial

I want to feel myself falling...
sinking.... finding bottom.

My biggest fear is that there is no end to sadness.
Please goddess, let me come to rest
somewhere.
anywhere.

And then my eyes close, body spent.
Tremors cease.
I sink into the peace of her embrace.

and suddenly realize there is no bottom in the womb.

==============

Its rough... barely even poetry... probably not even that. But its genuine, written in the midst of the very feelings it describes. I'm not changing a word.
 
I lick your feet,
You raise the bar.

I reach for you,
Suddenly far.

My feelings obsess,
You become small.

I know if I chase,
I will lose all.

So what do I do?
I sit and I breathe.

Let it wash over,
Watch you be free.

I let go of my need,
Just let it all go.

It will come again,
My chance to grow.
 
Rediscovering Jean Rhys, I thought I would put a few of her descriptions here for inspiration.

"She was shivering, for she had forgotten her coat, and the garment that she wore was very short, sleeveless, displaying her rose-coioured stockings to the knee. Her hair was flamingly and honestly red; her eyes, which were very gentle in expression, brown and heavily shadowed with kohl, her face small and pale under its professional rouge. She was fragile, like a delicate child, her arms pathetically thin. It was to her legs that she owed this dazzling, this incredible opportunity." Mannequin

"As she grew more excited she jumped up, swung her slim hips violently, rolled her eyes, stamped her feet, lifted her skirt. Obviously the red dress was her only garment, obviously too she was exquisite beneath it.... supple, slender, a dancer from the Thousand and One Nights..." Trio

AWESOME DESCRIPTION OF BEING DRUNK

"But over the unseen, the real Dorothy Dufreyne, a tiny shrinking thing in a vast, empty space, flowered red waves of despair, black waves of fatigue, as the brandy crept warmly and treacherously to her brain. Waves from a tremendous, booming sea. And each one would submerge her and then retreat, leaving her dazed, and as it were, gasping." In the Rue de l'Arrivee

I LOVE HER DESCRIPTION OF HER SMILE HERE

"She had a queer smile - a little sideways smile. Mark wasn't quite sure that he liked it..."

"Roseau thought: 'You sneering beast, you little sneering beast. Fifi's worth fifty of you!' -- but she said nothing, contenting her self with one off those sideways smiles which made people think: 'She's a funny one.'
La Grosse Fifi

FROM THE SAME STORY, THIS PARAGRAPH IS JUST PRICELESS

'He's running off to tell his wife how right she was about me,' thought Roseau, watching him. "How rum some English people are! They ask to be shocked and long to be shocked and hope to be shocked, but if you really shock them.... how shocked they are!'
 
I originally posted this in my morning writing in the Vortex, but am also putting it here so I dont lose it.

I coax a rogue strand of hair behind my ear absent-mindedly as I lean forward slightly into the act of writing. In my mind images swirl and I pause, critically feeling each image's effect.

Today is a vampire story. Not one of those superficial ones where fangs and exotically cliché Romanian accents hide little more than egomaniacle sadism, mine shall be the way I like to write. The entry of the fang is of course physical and that is experienced in all its exquisite detail, however it is also psychic.

There is a bond between vampire and the bitten. Usually it goes only one direction, the imposition of the hunter's presence upon the mortal, hypnotizing, enthralling. Its psychic domination is analogous to heroin's sensuality. In every way, physically, emotionally, mentally, the senses are overwhelmed and this can bring anything from arousal, to well-being to sheer and utter terror all at the vampire's will. The allusion to a heroin experience holds true not only to the feeding, but also to the dangers and the after effects. A thrall is usually nothing more than an addict seeking pleasure -- however encompassing this pleasure may be.

Sometimes though, there comes along a slightly different mortal. Quiet and unassuming, shy and withdrawn. It is the introvert who lives within. It is she who is at home in the world of impression, sensation, emotion and thought. It is her life's blood, her breath and unlike those for whom physical sensation is the ring through her nose, she finds herself able to follow the psychic link that bonds hunter and prey.

In every realm, what is true on one level holds an even deeper truth on another. A Vampire's feeding takes in blood, using it to vitalize their tissues in a state resembling life. However, there is a greater reason for the feeding.. life essence. Where a vampire's soul once was is a gaping maw, an insatiable beast that is at once them.... and so much more.

So what happens then when the prey is in touch with their deepest emotions. When the boundaries between body and soul begin to blur? At first her blood simply tastes world above a normal human's.. but as their bond deepens, sometimes the truth of one realm changes to its deeper analogue.

What then of that insatiable beast when it tastes soul?
 
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