Now I know you all have been screaming for more to Stars. but I have some
ideas and I will do that later (although I cannot see why a one shot would
have more than one chapter.) This is a one shot, however, I have exams
(wish me luck) so I am uploading what I have done, so I will not go
completely crazy! And onwards to the story!
~~~~~ Refuge Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angst One - shot ~~~~~
Cold. This is all I can feel as I walk down the bustling street. I cannot believe it is such a busy day, for it is as bleak as they come. But I need to live, and so must do they. The heavily overcast sky blocks the usually strong sunlight, and to replace the warmth and beauty those clouds have obscured, a fine rain had started to fall - one that obscured the vision with tiny specks and dampens the ground making it dangerous for the unwary traveller. The wind blew at cyclonic speeds across the overfull street, rattling the rickety outdoor stands as they threatened to collapse upon their occupants and their wares. The light that illuminates the street is not from the decrepit street lamps, but from the white florescent, yellow incandescent and the animated, coloured neon tubes that are mounted on the various buildings to show what they carry. I look at the façades of the aforementioned buildings - once a dazzling array of polished marble and impeccable sandstone, it now stands with soot and grime coating its surface, giving the buildings a rotting appearance. The statues that once gazed down tranquilly from their fountains and hills now menace the onlookers with the damp and dinginess of the big city. The roads contain a disharmonious array of old skipper drawn carts and new automobile technologies, each jostling for a position on the overcrowded street. I hug the package closer to my body, in a vain attempt to both keep the residual body heat that my jacket was struggling to contain in and the moisture which was building up on the surface of my dirty brown coat, out.
I slip from the bustling crowds into a small side street, which is flanked by a awful Chinese restaurant and a neon sign proclaiming the presence of 'Live Nudes'. The smell that stagnates in the corridor is tremendous - rotting cabbage and dampness doesn't tease the nose - it overwhelms instead. I have grown used to such 'peculiarities' as it has once been put. I yank off the dirty hood, glad to let my white hair flow back down my back. Luckily, there is no one ever around here, and for a good reason. I fish around my pocket for the ancient bar key that will let me into my 'living arrangements' as I turn the airless corridor again. I side up to the big sheet of metal - a door by function, not by appearance. I put the key into the unobtrusive lock that hangs off of the door - threatening to fall off, but it still served its purpose - to keep the dank air out, and to keep the occupants in. I hurriedly enter, slamming the door closed behind me.
The first thing I do when I enter is breath once again. As the cool air, circulated down from the offices above, enters my lungs, I survey my surroundings. My 'House', merely a disused storage area below a mountain of offices is a large area, separated into rooms by moveable separators. The place was cluttered with decrepit office furniture that was shuffled from the offices above into this room many years ago. It was also cluttered with paper; most half used or torn into shreds. In the centre of this massive room is a light tube (A/N it's the only one & it is different. mmkay?); massive in size and purpose, it casts an eerie glow over the occupants and their furnishings.
~~~~~
My many thanks:
Tempest Child - For keeping my mailbox full of banners. and a smile on my face. Davan - For just being there - and always a phone call away. It sounds corny, but you are my rock - I would be lost without you. Naomi Hunter - My adopted imoto, you always make me feel great. And when you update My Morphine, I'll be happier Plink - For being one of the best writers out there, and always reviewing my work - and making me actually like Prozen Chan Kaylore - You have reviewed everything, and I love all your work (I have reread it all) December - You have taught me a lot & you are always honest with me - a trait that can be difficult to find in this world
And to those people, and probably many more, this is my thank you. Please people, Read and Review - I am always looking for more good reviews.
Maelgwyn (maelgwyn@zoidwars.zzn.com)
~~~~~ Refuge Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Angst One - shot ~~~~~
Cold. This is all I can feel as I walk down the bustling street. I cannot believe it is such a busy day, for it is as bleak as they come. But I need to live, and so must do they. The heavily overcast sky blocks the usually strong sunlight, and to replace the warmth and beauty those clouds have obscured, a fine rain had started to fall - one that obscured the vision with tiny specks and dampens the ground making it dangerous for the unwary traveller. The wind blew at cyclonic speeds across the overfull street, rattling the rickety outdoor stands as they threatened to collapse upon their occupants and their wares. The light that illuminates the street is not from the decrepit street lamps, but from the white florescent, yellow incandescent and the animated, coloured neon tubes that are mounted on the various buildings to show what they carry. I look at the façades of the aforementioned buildings - once a dazzling array of polished marble and impeccable sandstone, it now stands with soot and grime coating its surface, giving the buildings a rotting appearance. The statues that once gazed down tranquilly from their fountains and hills now menace the onlookers with the damp and dinginess of the big city. The roads contain a disharmonious array of old skipper drawn carts and new automobile technologies, each jostling for a position on the overcrowded street. I hug the package closer to my body, in a vain attempt to both keep the residual body heat that my jacket was struggling to contain in and the moisture which was building up on the surface of my dirty brown coat, out.
I slip from the bustling crowds into a small side street, which is flanked by a awful Chinese restaurant and a neon sign proclaiming the presence of 'Live Nudes'. The smell that stagnates in the corridor is tremendous - rotting cabbage and dampness doesn't tease the nose - it overwhelms instead. I have grown used to such 'peculiarities' as it has once been put. I yank off the dirty hood, glad to let my white hair flow back down my back. Luckily, there is no one ever around here, and for a good reason. I fish around my pocket for the ancient bar key that will let me into my 'living arrangements' as I turn the airless corridor again. I side up to the big sheet of metal - a door by function, not by appearance. I put the key into the unobtrusive lock that hangs off of the door - threatening to fall off, but it still served its purpose - to keep the dank air out, and to keep the occupants in. I hurriedly enter, slamming the door closed behind me.
The first thing I do when I enter is breath once again. As the cool air, circulated down from the offices above, enters my lungs, I survey my surroundings. My 'House', merely a disused storage area below a mountain of offices is a large area, separated into rooms by moveable separators. The place was cluttered with decrepit office furniture that was shuffled from the offices above into this room many years ago. It was also cluttered with paper; most half used or torn into shreds. In the centre of this massive room is a light tube (A/N it's the only one & it is different. mmkay?); massive in size and purpose, it casts an eerie glow over the occupants and their furnishings.
~~~~~
My many thanks:
Tempest Child - For keeping my mailbox full of banners. and a smile on my face. Davan - For just being there - and always a phone call away. It sounds corny, but you are my rock - I would be lost without you. Naomi Hunter - My adopted imoto, you always make me feel great. And when you update My Morphine, I'll be happier Plink - For being one of the best writers out there, and always reviewing my work - and making me actually like Prozen Chan Kaylore - You have reviewed everything, and I love all your work (I have reread it all) December - You have taught me a lot & you are always honest with me - a trait that can be difficult to find in this world
And to those people, and probably many more, this is my thank you. Please people, Read and Review - I am always looking for more good reviews.
Maelgwyn (maelgwyn@zoidwars.zzn.com)
