「 lost carcosa 」 writing storage
Posted: Sep 7th, '17, 09:43
♛
what it says on the can.
comments = ok / crit = ask first
♛
what it says on the can.
comments = ok / crit = ask first
Kingdom of Knuffel
-= A place for all Knuffel lovers =-
https://kingdomofknuffel.com/
「 lost carcosa 」 writing storage
Page 1 of 1
♛
what it says on the can.
comments = ok / crit = ask first
Re: 「 lost carcosa 」 writing storage
Posted: Sep 7th, '17, 09:46
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lysander | finnian | male
he sidesteps questions like a fox trots through bear traps. his words are a dance to the beat of his own drum, beatbeatbeating in his chest with the sound of music. elusive smile, turning tricks at bar booths with the ease of an artist. the cards in his hands move effortlessly between his fingers and— oh, whoops. i won again.
a trick of the cards, he always says. no one had to know about the extra ace in his sleeve.
he flashes a grin at the next table, changing tactics. wanna see a magic trick? he says. cue a flourish of the hand, a smile and a wink. pure theater. his audience is dazzled. perfect distraction. they don't even notice his hand slipping away with their wallets. time to get this dog and pony show on the road, he thinks.
adrenaline's still flowing through his veins when he makes it outside. it's raining again. hood up, no umbrella. he leaves behind the music and strobe lights of his favorite club and enters the night. he stands under a bridge, pulling out today's haul. 80, 90, 100 dollars. tch. never enough for what he needs: a ticket out of this trashheap town and a place far, far away from the yelling and screaming inside the literal shack he calls a house.
not a home. a house.
at night he dreamt of hotel suites and soft linens. all-day buffets and a view of the pacific coast. a place where cops would address him as sir instead of punk. a place where wouldn't come home with bruises, citations, hurt pride. if money made the world turn, then maybe it'd turn his life around too— maybe it's wishful thinking, huh. but a couple broken rules to mend a broken dream?
he'd take that chance.
Re: 「 lost carcosa 」 writing storage
Posted: Sep 7th, '17, 09:47
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lysander // eis // nonbinary
when they open their eyes, it's pitch black.
as they stand up, they're oddly aware of the way the air feels. the darkness around them. their legs drag like lead weights as they take tentative steps into the unknown. it's dead silent except for the pulsing drum of their heart beatbeatbeating in the cavity of their chest. hands shake, unsteadily groping blindly for something — anything — to cement their awareness in the dark.
unexpectedly, they touch a wall. it's smooth, almost eerily featureless, as if the entire structure is devoid of all human touch. some geometric perfection created by something other than a mortal. as they run their hands along the wall, it opens up, bends sharply into a corner. then another corner. then another. hours pass. hundreds of meters covered by foot and still, not a single sign of progress. the darkness in front of them remains unchanged.
this is the part where they realize they're in a labyrinth.
they break into a run, fingers tracing the wall with each step. they can hear the way the soles of their shoes slap against the floor without so much as an echo, all sound swallowed by silence. breathing becomes erratic, blood pumping adrenaline through a body racked with nausea. they run through twists and turns and countless hallways until their lungs can no longer keep up. pain aches through overworked calves, fatigue rests on every bone in their body.
then, there's a small click. footsteps.
every fiber of their awareness centers in on the sound behind them. it's getting closer.
something churns in the pit of their stomach. they vomit, bile hitting the floor followed by dry heaves. every cell in their body cries out as they break into a cold sweat, skin clammy with unease. they need to run. they need to run, now — sheer will forcing their legs to move despite how badly they want to stop. and yet the sound grows ever louder, ever closer — no matter how much distance they put between those footsteps, within minutes the sound is right there, only two steps behind.
limbs give out. their body collapses onto the floor, no longer able to move. eyelids, heavy, fall shut. they don't know how long they've been running, or why anymore. prolonging the inevitable end for — maybe it was hours. days. years. when hallways stretch on for eternity, it hardly even matters. even when the footsteps finally catch up to you.
—
when they open their eyes, it's pitch black.
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Re: 「 lost carcosa 」 writing storage
Posted: Oct 14th, '18, 11:48
username; lysander name; capheus gender; male
- something about the air
on a day like this
reminds me of all the times
we spent
underneath fading hues
of sun.
we used to watch
windmills turn
in the back of your
dark red jeep
while the day began
to melt into night.
and i remember
the smell of cherries
on your lips
just like your favorite
lipstick.
it's a little funny
and a little sad:
i used to like
that color
before i met you.
- something about the air