here are the previous entries for the rolyplay blog of heero, if you want faster updates please proceed to: http://heero-yui.diaryland.com. or if you are interested in reading other characters' blogs or interested in applying for a character please go to: http://www.crash-down.org/gundam/ . thanks so much for your time. leave comments on the blog, please? and thank you to all you have commented! it means so much! take care!
[ hm ... as for the editing ... it is a place where a falter ... would you believe if i stated i scourer this text? well try too ... heh every published writer has an editor, and well i do not.and for the capitalization? i do that intentional, its more for the blog's physical attributes. thank you much though.]
[ lyrics to a perfect circle's "diary of a love song" poses as poetry. ]
10/26/AC 197 [ subsequent ]
embroiled. bewildered raw limbs. our bodies meshed under a screen of bedding. intermediate mediated moments. concentrating solely on the fluent fluctuations of his chest, the steady repetition of expanding and condensing. surveying his torpid form, straining a nonexistent clairvoyance, searching for the unseen. striving to imbibe, absorb, acquire every irreducible constituent of composites. the accented tang residing in my mouth. i raveled us tighter. he was still subservient to sleep. i closed my right hand, curling my fingers, resistance, his emission desiccate, dense. the adhesion of his seminal fluid coating my inner hand. my fingers contracted, hand turned to fist, concealing. tender reminiscing of the nocturnal occurrence, ineffable. my frame sleek, once saturated in sweat. lingering sensations. sexual encroachment, cordially received. i shifted, staring at him intently, admiring. a smile wrenching my lips. heart growing fonder.
i unknotted our limbs, sidling surreptitiously from drawn sheets. attempting to influence the mattress tremors, triggered by the shifting of my weight, ensuring his indolent state. i went ascendant, the gelid air gnawing at my fully exposed skin. i faced his sleeping form, bowing my torso, securing the comforter at his shoulders. frigid zephyr, as ambulation occurred, leisure in rove. twinge of empowerment, roaming through my residence, naked. musing how i would have never considered such a trivial action before he came. i am still adjusting to the modification of my persona, elicited by duo maxwell. i was acquiescent to the alterations, as long as it appeases him, if he condones, accepts, i am all right. my bare feet pressed on the kitchen's linoleum, motioning to counter, where the sink was situated. manipulating the node, positioning my right open palm under the faucet's down pour, his discharge, thinning, diluting, washing away. i surveyed my palm, water lining, directing it nigh my face. my hand engulfing my cheek, softly bearing down. i inserted my body into the living room, firmly placing foot falls, nearing the computer desk. a fingertip pressing on the corner of a generic spiral notebook, slanting it, dislodging it from the shelf. i clutched on to its edge, sliding it free. my other hand pulling a pen free from a plastic cylinder container. inspiration manifesting.
i worked my way back to the bedroom, he was sustaining the same state. slumber adorning him, his lax features becoming. i lightly imposed my mass on the bed, situating my nude configuration, over the linens, back inclining on the head board, knees peaked in close proximity to my chest. i placed the pen in my mouth, while my hands pulled back the cover of stiff cellulose pulp, revealing a blank sheet of ruled paper. i propped its edges over my crotch, slanting: knee to abdomen. i glanced at him, pen poised over paper, point in the interval of faint blue lines. tranquil ambiance, applying the point to the sheet, tarrying, black ink swelling, bleeding on to the paper. i prompted its removal, directing my eyes, gawking at him to see it he witnessed my blunder. repose kept sound. i timidly affixed my eyes back to the notebook. mustering a deep breath, my wrist engaged in quick fluid motions, slashing the page, scarring its devoid, imbuing ink. i eyed my verse, scrutinizing text in scrawl.
sanity now and beyond me.
i will always love you.
however long i stay.
i will always love you.
whatever words i say.
i will always love you.
there is no choice.
whenever i am alone with you,
you make me feel whole again.
did this composition convey? i glared at my falter, the first written love was scribbled, bold. more lyrics were cresting. i placed my writing utensil against the paper's span. about to conduct my first strike, his arm jutted out, careening into my gripping hand, propelling it. the balled point rolled across the page, celerity velocity, sweeping stroke, piercing what i just wrote, a jagged ink line slitting. more thrashing, the once serene body now in a torrent of motion. i was unable to distinguish this genuine or a ploy derived from wicked sense of humor. my hand extended, prodding with the pen, flesh of his shoulder indenting, petitioning the pen's point had a sedative prick. his hand swiped, his feeble fingers impacted with the pen. his eyes fluttered open, instantaneously he began ripping at the sheets. i gaped, incompetent, alarmed. disarrayed, his hands conducted frenzied probing. his finger tip skimmed a trenchant metal traverse, adjunct to a silver chain. breath rapid, pulsating. he was clutching on to christian symbol, a scanty summary for the crux of the entire dogma. he rolled on his side, exhibiting his back, displaying the perfectly crafted contours, liberal from cloth. i rapidly discarded the notebook and pen, motioning, abridging. my hand snaked out in solicitude, palm pressing against his dorsum. immediately his muscles rejected my taction, tremulous movement. he lunged forward. i inched closer, drapping my arms around his thorax, ensnaring his arms in my lock. trying so hard to quell. "what is it?" my whispered query.
mute. still in stance. i failed to allay his grief. unable to pacify, not producing an established expression of ease. ineffectual. inadequate. glint of hope, he did not repel my embrace. only toying with that chained charm. i inclined into him further, amplifying my need of his support. in lack, i required. i wanted reassurance, just to hear his voice, to identify if i was to blame. yearning the cognizance of every aspect. a question, a plea, posing as a command. lenient intonation. "tell me something about your past." fault of laughter.
"i was born, i grew up." he disregarded. i examined his features, firmly fixed, concentrating. his eyes deviated, detaching any gaze that held my form. i narrowed my inquiry, cautiously stringing my words together.
"what about your parents?" his throat contacted, as he assembled a reply.
"i never knew them, i don't remember anything like that. i grew up on the streets, that is, until i was taken in by the church, and he-" as his voice began to waver, he relented. snaring on that word. i conjectured he was referring to a person, such thick emotion. a name of importance, lingering affection still lucid. hints of lamentation. my brow lifted ruefully. his hands flinched, cupping the cross, concealing it. my palms smoothed over his scapulas, trailing fingertips. i lowered my face, grazing my lips over his cheek, slight pressure. my hands encased his clutching hand, contracting briefly. he angled his head, slowly, viewing my facial features, i looked on. eyes beseeching. i removed myself from the bed, i receded from the room, to leave him alone with his memories. i will not force or drive it from him. i will be here when he is ready.
commence. [ 5:26 p.m. ]
[ hm ... as for the editing ... it is a place where a falter ... would you believe if i stated i scourer this text? well try too ... heh every published writer has an editor, and well i do not.and for the capitalization? i do that intentional, its more for the blog's physical attributes. thank you much though.]
[ lyrics to a perfect circle's "diary of a love song" poses as poetry. ]
10/26/AC 197 [ subsequent ]
embroiled. bewildered raw limbs. our bodies meshed under a screen of bedding. intermediate mediated moments. concentrating solely on the fluent fluctuations of his chest, the steady repetition of expanding and condensing. surveying his torpid form, straining a nonexistent clairvoyance, searching for the unseen. striving to imbibe, absorb, acquire every irreducible constituent of composites. the accented tang residing in my mouth. i raveled us tighter. he was still subservient to sleep. i closed my right hand, curling my fingers, resistance, his emission desiccate, dense. the adhesion of his seminal fluid coating my inner hand. my fingers contracted, hand turned to fist, concealing. tender reminiscing of the nocturnal occurrence, ineffable. my frame sleek, once saturated in sweat. lingering sensations. sexual encroachment, cordially received. i shifted, staring at him intently, admiring. a smile wrenching my lips. heart growing fonder.
i unknotted our limbs, sidling surreptitiously from drawn sheets. attempting to influence the mattress tremors, triggered by the shifting of my weight, ensuring his indolent state. i went ascendant, the gelid air gnawing at my fully exposed skin. i faced his sleeping form, bowing my torso, securing the comforter at his shoulders. frigid zephyr, as ambulation occurred, leisure in rove. twinge of empowerment, roaming through my residence, naked. musing how i would have never considered such a trivial action before he came. i am still adjusting to the modification of my persona, elicited by duo maxwell. i was acquiescent to the alterations, as long as it appeases him, if he condones, accepts, i am all right. my bare feet pressed on the kitchen's linoleum, motioning to counter, where the sink was situated. manipulating the node, positioning my right open palm under the faucet's down pour, his discharge, thinning, diluting, washing away. i surveyed my palm, water lining, directing it nigh my face. my hand engulfing my cheek, softly bearing down. i inserted my body into the living room, firmly placing foot falls, nearing the computer desk. a fingertip pressing on the corner of a generic spiral notebook, slanting it, dislodging it from the shelf. i clutched on to its edge, sliding it free. my other hand pulling a pen free from a plastic cylinder container. inspiration manifesting.
i worked my way back to the bedroom, he was sustaining the same state. slumber adorning him, his lax features becoming. i lightly imposed my mass on the bed, situating my nude configuration, over the linens, back inclining on the head board, knees peaked in close proximity to my chest. i placed the pen in my mouth, while my hands pulled back the cover of stiff cellulose pulp, revealing a blank sheet of ruled paper. i propped its edges over my crotch, slanting: knee to abdomen. i glanced at him, pen poised over paper, point in the interval of faint blue lines. tranquil ambiance, applying the point to the sheet, tarrying, black ink swelling, bleeding on to the paper. i prompted its removal, directing my eyes, gawking at him to see it he witnessed my blunder. repose kept sound. i timidly affixed my eyes back to the notebook. mustering a deep breath, my wrist engaged in quick fluid motions, slashing the page, scarring its devoid, imbuing ink. i eyed my verse, scrutinizing text in scrawl.
sanity now and beyond me.
i will always love you.
however long i stay.
i will always love you.
whatever words i say.
i will always love you.
there is no choice.
whenever i am alone with you,
you make me feel whole again.
did this composition convey? i glared at my falter, the first written love was scribbled, bold. more lyrics were cresting. i placed my writing utensil against the paper's span. about to conduct my first strike, his arm jutted out, careening into my gripping hand, propelling it. the balled point rolled across the page, celerity velocity, sweeping stroke, piercing what i just wrote, a jagged ink line slitting. more thrashing, the once serene body now in a torrent of motion. i was unable to distinguish this genuine or a ploy derived from wicked sense of humor. my hand extended, prodding with the pen, flesh of his shoulder indenting, petitioning the pen's point had a sedative prick. his hand swiped, his feeble fingers impacted with the pen. his eyes fluttered open, instantaneously he began ripping at the sheets. i gaped, incompetent, alarmed. disarrayed, his hands conducted frenzied probing. his finger tip skimmed a trenchant metal traverse, adjunct to a silver chain. breath rapid, pulsating. he was clutching on to christian symbol, a scanty summary for the crux of the entire dogma. he rolled on his side, exhibiting his back, displaying the perfectly crafted contours, liberal from cloth. i rapidly discarded the notebook and pen, motioning, abridging. my hand snaked out in solicitude, palm pressing against his dorsum. immediately his muscles rejected my taction, tremulous movement. he lunged forward. i inched closer, drapping my arms around his thorax, ensnaring his arms in my lock. trying so hard to quell. "what is it?" my whispered query.
mute. still in stance. i failed to allay his grief. unable to pacify, not producing an established expression of ease. ineffectual. inadequate. glint of hope, he did not repel my embrace. only toying with that chained charm. i inclined into him further, amplifying my need of his support. in lack, i required. i wanted reassurance, just to hear his voice, to identify if i was to blame. yearning the cognizance of every aspect. a question, a plea, posing as a command. lenient intonation. "tell me something about your past." fault of laughter.
"i was born, i grew up." he disregarded. i examined his features, firmly fixed, concentrating. his eyes deviated, detaching any gaze that held my form. i narrowed my inquiry, cautiously stringing my words together.
"what about your parents?" his throat contacted, as he assembled a reply.
"i never knew them, i don't remember anything like that. i grew up on the streets, that is, until i was taken in by the church, and he-" as his voice began to waver, he relented. snaring on that word. i conjectured he was referring to a person, such thick emotion. a name of importance, lingering affection still lucid. hints of lamentation. my brow lifted ruefully. his hands flinched, cupping the cross, concealing it. my palms smoothed over his scapulas, trailing fingertips. i lowered my face, grazing my lips over his cheek, slight pressure. my hands encased his clutching hand, contracting briefly. he angled his head, slowly, viewing my facial features, i looked on. eyes beseeching. i removed myself from the bed, i receded from the room, to leave him alone with his memories. i will not force or drive it from him. i will be here when he is ready.
commence. [ 5:26 p.m. ]