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rainbowfic2013-02-21 09:34 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-02-21 09:34 pm
Entry tags:
- author: shadowsong26 supreme whumpmaster,
- color: iceberg,
- color: ivory,
- color: russet,
- story: lux,
- style: fingerpainting,
- style: miniature collection,
- style: paint-by-numbers,
- style: photography,
- supply: brush,
- supply: chalk,
- supply: fabric,
- supply: feathers,
- supply: glue,
- supply: novelty beads,
- supply: oils,
- supply: stain
Ivory #18, Iceberg #8, Russet #10
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Skin
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Ivory #18. Break all the records. Burn the cassettes. I'd be lying if I told you that I had no regrets., Iceberg #8. scarf, Russet #10. cotton [Catching on.]
Supplies and Materials: paint-by-numbers (from Kelly), photography, fingerpainting (paradelle), miniature collection, brush (ephemeral), oils, stain, feathers, fabric, chalk, novelty beads (“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up." ― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones), glue ("Don't be hard on yourself if you don't know what to do next. Allow yourself a few more days to float around before returning to earth.")
Word Count: 209
Rating: R
Characters: Mariko
Warnings: References to the fire and its aftermath for Mariko, description of severe burns.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This is a really weird form, and I'm not sure it worked as well as it could have. I still think it's probably the best way I could have dealt with this, though, so.
Membranes are stretched, scraped, blackened.
Membranes are stretched, scraped, blackened--
I no longer feel comfortable in my skin.
I no longer feel comfortable in my skin,
Blackened, feel no skin, stretched longer,
I, in my membranes, scraped, comfortable.
The flames twist at my fingers, whispering promises.
The flames twist at my fingers, whispering promises
Like she did, in my dreams, even fantasies.
Like she did, in my dreams, even fantasies.
Fingers in my fantasies, she dreams, whispering
Even like my flames did, twist at the promises.
And the worst of it isn't the burned edges of my being.
And the worst of it isn't the burned edges of my being,
Not that, but she's still a dream, beauty in the nightmare.
Not that, but she's still a dream, beauty in the nightmare.
She's my beauty burned, of my dream, the edges, not the worst,
But still--a nightmare of that, and isn't in the being of it.
Beauty blackened, skin in flames, the fantasies,
Are the worst, a nightmare, but my dream, and she--
Burned, comfortable of being stretched, scraped, still.
I no longer feel of membranes, my dreams, my edges.
The promises of that did it in--not at the twist.
She's like my whispering, isn't even in my fingers.
Story: Skin
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Ivory #18. Break all the records. Burn the cassettes. I'd be lying if I told you that I had no regrets., Iceberg #8. scarf, Russet #10. cotton [Catching on.]
Supplies and Materials: paint-by-numbers (from Kelly), photography, fingerpainting (paradelle), miniature collection, brush (ephemeral), oils, stain, feathers, fabric, chalk, novelty beads (“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up." ― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones), glue ("Don't be hard on yourself if you don't know what to do next. Allow yourself a few more days to float around before returning to earth.")
Word Count: 209
Rating: R
Characters: Mariko
Warnings: References to the fire and its aftermath for Mariko, description of severe burns.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. This is a really weird form, and I'm not sure it worked as well as it could have. I still think it's probably the best way I could have dealt with this, though, so.
Membranes are stretched, scraped, blackened.
Membranes are stretched, scraped, blackened--
I no longer feel comfortable in my skin.
I no longer feel comfortable in my skin,
Blackened, feel no skin, stretched longer,
I, in my membranes, scraped, comfortable.
The flames twist at my fingers, whispering promises.
The flames twist at my fingers, whispering promises
Like she did, in my dreams, even fantasies.
Like she did, in my dreams, even fantasies.
Fingers in my fantasies, she dreams, whispering
Even like my flames did, twist at the promises.
And the worst of it isn't the burned edges of my being.
And the worst of it isn't the burned edges of my being,
Not that, but she's still a dream, beauty in the nightmare.
Not that, but she's still a dream, beauty in the nightmare.
She's my beauty burned, of my dream, the edges, not the worst,
But still--a nightmare of that, and isn't in the being of it.
Beauty blackened, skin in flames, the fantasies,
Are the worst, a nightmare, but my dream, and she--
Burned, comfortable of being stretched, scraped, still.
I no longer feel of membranes, my dreams, my edges.
The promises of that did it in--not at the twist.
She's like my whispering, isn't even in my fingers.
no subject
no subject
It's super weird. I was actually going to do a pantoum instead, but this form, weird as it was, felt more appropriate to what's going through her head? IDK. It's really hard, but it's also kind of an exercise in writing with minimal articles and preopositions, because otherwise the scrambled lines/stanza are impossible to have make sense.