Windswift: Why?
Muse: Nani?
Windswift: Why'd you inspire a Pegasus fic?
Muse: Ano . . . I was bored, I had an interesting idea. . . . and . . . uh. . . . TA-DA!
Windswift: -_-
Muse: ^^ Okies, it's short, but it's different. Or, I think it's different . . . oh well. Just enjoy!
A ansty Pegasus introspective fic. One-shot. Short but full of symbolisms to interpret as you will. I'm not sure why I wrote it (I don't even _like_ Pegasus) but it's interesting.
((+)~
Canvas
There is a room at the top of a tower, secret and special. It sits grand, straight and true, tall above the rest of the castle and what goes on inside of it.
A table, rich mahogany, hidden behind splashes of paint and littered with other objects.
Brushes, once neatly ordered, now carelessly scattered and stained from their labors.
A palette, old with dry paint he hadn't bothered to wash away, lay near.
An easel, complete with canvas, sat well kept by a window, where fresh sunlight, unrestricted by curtains, lit up the product of his passion.
And before all of this sat a man.
He had been here before, when he was young, but young he was no longer. Weariness shown in his features.
But as he raised his face up to the canvas, amber gaze lit up in delight, a small smile played upon his lips, and the tiredness dropped from his features to show the passion of youth.
He stared at the canvas, studying the spring setting. Soft, pale, and indistinct flowers peeked as splashes of color from the lush green strokes of grass. A tree grew tall and upright amidst the gently draping vegetation, its upper branches leaning out to provide shade from the golden sun.
A young woman and man sat underneath the tree, together in an embrace. The woman's long blond hair formed a wavy, golden frame about her face. Her features were gentle and pretty, with a kind laugh lighting up her eyes.
The man's silver hair fell carelessly about his face, amber eyes aglow with the simple passion of love. His young and idealistic dreams were hinted in his expression. He too laughed joyfully.
His gaze clouded as he reached up a hand to his left cheek, feeling a touch of cold metal in his face. It reminded him of his passions corrupted, of one name . . . .
"Cyndia . . . ."
He forced his gaze back back onto the canvas. Maybe if he just believed hard enough, all his dreams. . . .
He got up to leave, to attend to important business.
It was amazing, the world he could see in that simple canvas.
. . . . The canvas was blank . . . .
((+)~
Well, tell me what you think! Please review!
Muse: Nani?
Windswift: Why'd you inspire a Pegasus fic?
Muse: Ano . . . I was bored, I had an interesting idea. . . . and . . . uh. . . . TA-DA!
Windswift: -_-
Muse: ^^ Okies, it's short, but it's different. Or, I think it's different . . . oh well. Just enjoy!
A ansty Pegasus introspective fic. One-shot. Short but full of symbolisms to interpret as you will. I'm not sure why I wrote it (I don't even _like_ Pegasus) but it's interesting.
((+)~
Canvas
There is a room at the top of a tower, secret and special. It sits grand, straight and true, tall above the rest of the castle and what goes on inside of it.
A table, rich mahogany, hidden behind splashes of paint and littered with other objects.
Brushes, once neatly ordered, now carelessly scattered and stained from their labors.
A palette, old with dry paint he hadn't bothered to wash away, lay near.
An easel, complete with canvas, sat well kept by a window, where fresh sunlight, unrestricted by curtains, lit up the product of his passion.
And before all of this sat a man.
He had been here before, when he was young, but young he was no longer. Weariness shown in his features.
But as he raised his face up to the canvas, amber gaze lit up in delight, a small smile played upon his lips, and the tiredness dropped from his features to show the passion of youth.
He stared at the canvas, studying the spring setting. Soft, pale, and indistinct flowers peeked as splashes of color from the lush green strokes of grass. A tree grew tall and upright amidst the gently draping vegetation, its upper branches leaning out to provide shade from the golden sun.
A young woman and man sat underneath the tree, together in an embrace. The woman's long blond hair formed a wavy, golden frame about her face. Her features were gentle and pretty, with a kind laugh lighting up her eyes.
The man's silver hair fell carelessly about his face, amber eyes aglow with the simple passion of love. His young and idealistic dreams were hinted in his expression. He too laughed joyfully.
His gaze clouded as he reached up a hand to his left cheek, feeling a touch of cold metal in his face. It reminded him of his passions corrupted, of one name . . . .
"Cyndia . . . ."
He forced his gaze back back onto the canvas. Maybe if he just believed hard enough, all his dreams. . . .
He got up to leave, to attend to important business.
It was amazing, the world he could see in that simple canvas.
. . . . The canvas was blank . . . .
((+)~
Well, tell me what you think! Please review!
