The Autumn Child (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sharpeningthebones) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2013-07-20 01:32 am
sharpeningthebones) wrote in rainbowfic2013-07-20 01:32 am
Entry tags:
Quill Grey
Name: Mallory
Story: Golden, Broken Or Lost
Colors: Quill Grey: Words - so innocent and powerless as they are... how potent for good and evil they become. - Nathaniel Hawthorne
Supplies: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count; 500
Beta: None, Morgan is out of omission for the next few days and I wanted to get this up before I got too down on it. SO yes. No beta. >>
Notes: I think GBoL still needs a story tag. Beyond that, I just ant to say that I think this would be really, really fun to read out as a monologue or something. I am tempted to do it or get Morgan to do it, or...something. I don't know. I just had that thought the entire time I was writing this.
Summary: She's a storybook creature trying to make her way in the world that thinks she's not real. In an attempt to do this, she reaches out to others, peddling support on the street corners, assuring others like her that they are as real as anything.
"Who are we but angels," I say, my voice nervous and shaking against the thrum of people around me. "Who are we but creatures of myth and magic, of storybooks and far away lands?"
Somewhere in the crowd, I sens a wolf raising it's head, staring at me with dark, hungry eyes. It's expression says 'Keep going, I'm here. I'm listening to your words, even if no one else is."
I swallow, the words wanting to choke me from the inside out but I know they need to be said. "We're not meant for books, for children's story time. We're meant for more in this world. We're meant to live and grow and thrive amongst the people of this land. We are alive, just as alive as anyone else. We are here and we are going to carve out our place in the universe."
No one looks at me, no one bothers to admit that I'm there but this is why I'm doing this in the first pale. This is why I'm perched on the street corner, singing my songs and gong on my rants.
"All you stories, come out of the cracks! Come to me, find me, talk to me. I'll listen to you. I'll tell you that you're here I'll tell you that you're beautiful and wonderful and more than just words on a page. I know you're out there, I know you are because I am."
The words are getting harder and harder to say, even though I can feel them pounding against my chest right alongside my heart. I They stir something deep within me but to actually say them? To put hem out there for the world to judge and see and mock? It's terrifying.
But I keep talking anyway because someone needs to say these things.
"You may not know who I am, you may not know my story but if you're willing to listen, I can do the same. I'll hear your stories, tell you that they're real. I won't turn you away because you believe you're something they say isn't real. To them, I'm not real either. TO them I'm just a girl."
I raise my head, eyes bright against the twilight sky. "I've come against evil, I've fought the wolves and won. I know that there are more of us out there, I know that you're hiding, trying to blend in and live in this strange place, but come to me, come and I'll listen and we'll carve out a place for ourselves."
No one sees me in the city, they walk past me, through me, all around me. They don't admit I'm there or they can't admit it, I'm not sure which. It doesn't matter though because the ones who need me, the fairy tale hearts and storybook boned, will know that I'm waiting for them. They'll hear me, they'll come to me and they'll know that I can give them a plaace to call home.
Story: Golden, Broken Or Lost
Colors: Quill Grey: Words - so innocent and powerless as they are... how potent for good and evil they become. - Nathaniel Hawthorne
Supplies: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count; 500
Beta: None, Morgan is out of omission for the next few days and I wanted to get this up before I got too down on it. SO yes. No beta. >>
Notes: I think GBoL still needs a story tag. Beyond that, I just ant to say that I think this would be really, really fun to read out as a monologue or something. I am tempted to do it or get Morgan to do it, or...something. I don't know. I just had that thought the entire time I was writing this.
Summary: She's a storybook creature trying to make her way in the world that thinks she's not real. In an attempt to do this, she reaches out to others, peddling support on the street corners, assuring others like her that they are as real as anything.
"Who are we but angels," I say, my voice nervous and shaking against the thrum of people around me. "Who are we but creatures of myth and magic, of storybooks and far away lands?"
Somewhere in the crowd, I sens a wolf raising it's head, staring at me with dark, hungry eyes. It's expression says 'Keep going, I'm here. I'm listening to your words, even if no one else is."
I swallow, the words wanting to choke me from the inside out but I know they need to be said. "We're not meant for books, for children's story time. We're meant for more in this world. We're meant to live and grow and thrive amongst the people of this land. We are alive, just as alive as anyone else. We are here and we are going to carve out our place in the universe."
No one looks at me, no one bothers to admit that I'm there but this is why I'm doing this in the first pale. This is why I'm perched on the street corner, singing my songs and gong on my rants.
"All you stories, come out of the cracks! Come to me, find me, talk to me. I'll listen to you. I'll tell you that you're here I'll tell you that you're beautiful and wonderful and more than just words on a page. I know you're out there, I know you are because I am."
The words are getting harder and harder to say, even though I can feel them pounding against my chest right alongside my heart. I They stir something deep within me but to actually say them? To put hem out there for the world to judge and see and mock? It's terrifying.
But I keep talking anyway because someone needs to say these things.
"You may not know who I am, you may not know my story but if you're willing to listen, I can do the same. I'll hear your stories, tell you that they're real. I won't turn you away because you believe you're something they say isn't real. To them, I'm not real either. TO them I'm just a girl."
I raise my head, eyes bright against the twilight sky. "I've come against evil, I've fought the wolves and won. I know that there are more of us out there, I know that you're hiding, trying to blend in and live in this strange place, but come to me, come and I'll listen and we'll carve out a place for ourselves."
No one sees me in the city, they walk past me, through me, all around me. They don't admit I'm there or they can't admit it, I'm not sure which. It doesn't matter though because the ones who need me, the fairy tale hearts and storybook boned, will know that I'm waiting for them. They'll hear me, they'll come to me and they'll know that I can give them a plaace to call home.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject