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Category: WebsiteThe news items published under this category are as follows.
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| Website: Of Petals and Poison |
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| On Wednesday, June 17, 2009 Krispos wrote : |
The youth began his walk idly, taking simplistic joy in the air wrapping around him, the sky above him, and the blooming flowers bellow. He could reach his hands down touch them, graze his finger tips along their silken, glossy surface. The flowers were abloom in every shape, size, and color. Patterns crisscrossed, swirled, and adorned the many different petals to make a sea of dazzling display. If the youth were to get close enough, he would notice how distinct the flowers were, even carrying their own scent. Walking the fields of endless petals, countless flowers, the youth saw a few stand out amongst the sea. He had toyed with thoughts of studying the flowers, of how sweet they must smell, of how nice they must look up close.... but none ever pulled him far enough from his walk to warrant inspection.
That was until one step brought him to the path of a rather wonderful flower. This flower carried such sweet joy with it when the youth would see it on his path. The flower merely nodded it's vibrant petals with the wind, a simple hello and have a good day. However, the fragrant wisps followed him. He had seen it only once, but on down the road, the wind carried the sweet scents to his senses on multiple occasions. He finally decided to break his path to find this flower, determined to wave a hello and repay the joyful greeting that had graced his path earlier.
This detour of his led the youth into many encounters with this flower of beauty. They're greetings turned from various discussions of the weather, to how each others days were... casual chatter. But one thing was so surprising to this youth, how the flower always smiled it's petals. It was always happy, cheerful and laughing. It was quite contageous. After a while of growing so fond of this flower, it's radiant petals and joyful air were so addicting. The youth couldn't help put tease the precious thing. Plucking at it's petals, never injuring it, just teasing the flower to see it's laughing reaction. This is how they carried on, both teasing one another, growing fonder, playing around and finding out more about each other. Until the fondness grew into a slight obsession, thinking about one another until their paths crossed and not wanting to continue walking. Time was a hindrance, the path a means to see one another.
Eventually, the fond obsession grew into an over whelming desire to taste the honey that welled up in the petals of the flower, it smelled so sweet and was so full of laughter, the youth had to taste it. He knew the honey was not his to drink, that the flower carried thorns on it, but it didn't mean to. It retracted it's thorns and opened it's petals, inviting the youth in to drink and be at peace. The youth, in his weak, selfish greed knew the thorns would still bite him, but sought after the honey anyway. He would meet the flower, and the flower him. They would dance around with laughter, drinking and being drunk on one another for joy. Nearly every time the dances finished, even before they began, the youth would remember the thorns that made Him bleed, what he was doing, and had to deny this precious flower what it sought. The youth was to blinded and naive, too greedy and selfish to make a choice. When the flower was denied the dance, the youth was hurt, wanting to bring the flower peace. He would continue dancing when he was compelled by the flower's offering of joy and hurt for having robbed the petals of their peace. Yet he was also compelled by the thorns that struck blood far deeper in his heart, striking Him so painfully. The youth knew his life would not allow these dances their continuance, but was far to weak to make a choice and stick with it.
Every time the youth refused the flower, it would burn away a piece of a petal, wilting it's beautiful joy. The youth did not see it, did not care, only loved to see what joyful grace the flower radiated, only the honey that tasted so sweet. It was not long before the flower had all the dancing of flame that it could take, denying the youth any peace, any joy, any laughter. For the flower was not just through with the youth, but it was burned beyond recognition and repair, singed with greed, apathy, naivety, and foolishness that the youth had so disrespected the flower with. It was truly revolting. The youth did not at all wish to see the flower in the state it was in, but did not realize just how tarnished he had made the precious thing. It was not until the flower brought forth the daggers of truth and pierced the youth through, that he realized just how foolish he had been. Just how much joy he had robbed the flower of. He did not realize that the flower gave it's beautiful petals to the youth, that it was so much more precious to the flower than it was to him.
The youth had nothing to do, nothing to say, nothing by which he could repair the brokenness of the flower. Only the cold realization of how cruel he had been. Dancing and drinking of the flower's sweet generosity and kindness, while also slicing it open when he denied it. Eventually pulling away from the burned petals enough times to break the fragrant flower apart, taking forever a wound that was never his to take. The youth did not weep, did not lose his appetite, did not cry out for relief, only attempted to bring the flower it's peace.
The youth's words were no longer just burning the flower, but pouring forth poison to rot away the torn, bruised, and flamed petals, down to the stalk his words seeped. It's true, sadly enough, that the youth played with the flower, and burned it. The flower was honest and sincere, joyous and generous, always there for the youth and only seeking mutual sincerity. The youth was partook of the flower for it's sweet honey, it's fragrant petals, and it's laughter, but never for the flower itself. The flower is more than an object, it is a precious gem, meant to be held up and adorned with whatever the youth can offer it. Not to be a play thing for a greedy child.
The youth finally realizes his poisonous tongue, his leaching lips, his burning, consuming greed that injures these precious petals that are all around him. This was not the first flower, not by far, and so long as the youth is capable of will, it will be the last. The youth's lips will seal the poison inside, the scorching pain deep inside of himself until his desire is true, sincere, and with out thorns. Then, it may just pour forth as a wonderful sap of life, to blossom and fruit the ground with flowers itself. But he will always, hopes he will always carry the vat of poison inside of him to remember what it has done to the precious flower around him. He can't let himself forget what his childishness has done. He can never forget the story of petals and poison.
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| Website: Is there a sky in Oberin? |
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| On Wednesday, June 17, 2009 tenskulls wrote : |
A small story I wrote when I was bored. All events are fictional and all grammatical missteps intentional. And to the GM that reads this- please don't re-enact any of this with my character. And the title is a little random and not hugely related to the story. Hope you all enjoy it!!!
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Read full article: 'Is there a sky in Oberin?'
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