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"You ask me - What this is?- I don't know! - It's word vomit! - Something that wanted to be written.Though, if you read it- and yes! - It does delve into a quiet psychotic darkness- You'll notice parallels  within it - the good,  the bad - I'll leave it up to the reader to decide for themselves"-Loki winked- Loki~God of Mischief The sun set over a pink sky. The wind swirled in sparkles of falling stars that exploded falling like confetti towards the ground. Idealistic surreal,  he stood. Slowly lowering his head to watch as the grass turned red before bursting into flames beneath his feet. He could not feel the pain as the flames licked around his legs yet his heart beat faster within his chest. Suddenly he was floating spinning upwards through the sky whilst the world burned far beneath him. The wind licked against his skin  forcing back his hair yet its touch could not felt upon his skin. Was this what it meant, what it felt like to be truly free? To soar connected with everything yet be nothing at all? Somewhere deep within his own subconscious he knew he was the setting sun. The sparking wind. He was the grass that turned to flames destroying all that was ideal..to perfect, to ever be real.  The world turned to dark, shadows of doors lining up. Stark, one by one they stood like an endless line of soldiers, just waiting for him to open and enter. A maze to the subconscious that was his own mind. Why did this scare him. Why did he feel the unnerving lurch of fear catch within his chest at what he could possibly find. The struggle to run, escape while he could. Hide from the hidden demons he could not see,  fueled him forward. He would be strong, Here, he couldn't be beaten. Reaching out he opened a door.The room was barren or so it first seamed. Neglected and run down. The walls, coated in grime, paint peeling under the crumbling plaster . He could feel the rubble crunching under his feet yet hear no sound. In the corner, a panel like the side of a wooden box. Stained with the grime from the walls,  It lay upon its side as if sheltering something from sight.  He told himself no. But his feet were moving him forward. hand stretching out to pull the panel from the side of the wall. A shadow cowered hiding, cringing away from his touch. No more then formation of fog, faceless, it called forth to his heart. The urge. The need to save it.  Rescue it from some fate he felt was stalking them both. The thought consumed him. Turning he searched erratically  noticing a darkened hallway filled with corroded plasterboard and debris where he was sure had only once been wall. Reaching down he grasped for the shadow, watching its foggy form dissipate upon his touch. Confusion. His heart beat fast. It had found him! Any minuet it would be behind him. Rising he turned seeing the the shadow, the fogging masked existence of the one who had only moments before been crouching, hiding behind the panel.  It stood waiting in the shadows of the darkened hallway. Like a beacon of hope. He found himself running forward . Scrambling over the debris that seamed to block his path.  Struggling he tried to speed up his pace, feeling the sluggish pull as his feet sank into the floor slowing his movements . He couldn't turn. He wouldn't face the nightmare that moved like lightning as it it came up behind him. The feel of its presence raised the hair's upon the back of his neck. He closed eyes refusing its touch. The sun gleamed red behind his closed eyes. Blinking he opened his eyes. He stood alone. The towering walls of empty buildings surrounded him. The widows; pane-less void of any glass.  Yet the grass was a vivid green; soft and plush beneath his feet. Slowly he made his way forward. He could feel them both .. They were here somewhere.  He would find them. Face them in the emptiness. The sun shone. The world was bright. it could have been idealistic,  almost peaceful.  Yet the emptiness- it taunted. Lingering upon his echoing footsteps,  Footsteps he could not hear.Rising up the red brick walls surrounded him.  Apartments empty void of any life or self expression. The trees languid as their eaves rested upon mission brown, wooden balconies.  He saw it. Standing there waiting . Watching him. The faceless shadow mocking. He would catch it. Confront it! He would take control!  He felt the exertion as he sprinted forward taking the wooden steps in twos.  The stairwell to the Balcony; to the Shadow that waited. Rounding the corner he felt the red bricks scrape against his shoulder. Registered the pain yet could not feel it. So close now! Yet the balcony stood empty. A tattered cream curtain slowly moving in the wind at an open sliding door. It waited for him. Waited inside. Determined he stepped forward.  Reaching for the swaying curtain,  strangely aware of how it felt within his grasp;  as he crossed the threshold of light, into the darkness.Slowly his eyes drew focus. He was laying. He could feel the cold hardness beneath his back. It taunted him, making him wonder when he had lost control. He saw the shadows looming over him, as if he was laid out upon a table. A platter of their choosing. Their eyes gleaming in the darkness. Their touch upon his naked skin. Like icicles it froze him. Repulsed him. Stimulated him. Stiffening his shaft with an erection to feed off of his fright. He saw the glints cold like metal. Shuddered beneath their touch. The bittersweet pain as their touch drew fire to his skin, Delving deep and carefully slicing it open. The stench of his blood holding no meaning in his mind save for his own arousal. The succulent throb that etched and pulsed through his groin; sending spasms of delight up along his engorged shaft to merge with the bitter cold air as it caressed against his sensitive head.  He could feel the fingers, easing apart the layers of his skin. Their touch dulling the pain like an anesthesia. The feeling as they slowly slid within the thick warmness of his blood. Using it like a lubricant. The way his organs moved, sliding back as their fingers delved deeper claiming his soul from the inside, out . Exquisite. Exotic ecstasy.  Enthralled, he wondered aimlessly how long he would endure. The moment it would all end. Shamelessly wishing it wouldn't.The eyes.. he knew them. Finally he accepted them, for what and who they were. Their gaze unfaltering as they stared down upon him, mocking him. He no longer cared.Unperturbed by their taunts, he smiled and slowly closed his eyes.The warm sticky sweet metallic smell of blood  as it cooled congealing upon his fingers. Tantalizing. Raising a hand to his nostril's he breathed deep the scent. Letting his tongue slid between his lips to lick up along the congealing blood that covered his thumb. Already it was dying. The life. It's force held within his other hand. His erection throbbing within his grasp. He was no longer repelled. There was no inevitable fight. The only demon was himself. The Monster parents told their children of.Lowering his head to the corpse of shadow and fog  beneath him: he kissed his lifeless lips, Accepting his own insanity, as he watched it dissipated like smoke beneath his breath. -----------------------------Frowning Loki slowly opened his eyes. The long green drapes that surround his bed, hung silent. lit only by the moonlight as it streamed in through the open balcony doors. Breathing deep, he let his gaze travel up along the flowing folds of thick tapestry to the ceiling above: watching the shadows...." Was it madness....Was it?"           

https://8tracks.com/roselynn1994/whitney-s-playlistPicking a playlist for Whitney is quite difficult, because she is such a mass of contradictions.  She is friendly and upbeat, but prone to catty and cruel moments.  She is successful and confident, but also quite insecure, especially in her relationships.  Certain songs reflect her personal enjoyments, such as wealth and pleasure.  The best example of this is "Material Girl."  It has both literal and sarcastic meanings for Whitney, since she isn't as materialistic as she is portrayed to be."Any Man of Mine", "This One's for the Girls," and "Man! I Feel Like a Woman" all illustrate Whitney's ability to connect with her feminine side. She is independent, but she also craves the attention only the right man can give her. But she has high expectations and would never allow a man to control or tie her down.  "Closure" is a song Whitney listens to on repeat, since it reminds her of that fateful fight with her parents, and even her grandmother's recent death. She is tired of getting close to people she ultimately loses. "So Yesterday" reflects her occasional tendency to be caught up on tiny problems, and her struggle to overcome them and convince herself that they really don't matter."Bittersweet Symphony" is Whitney's go-to-song for when she feels particularly lonely or self-pitying, especially when things don't go her way at work.  The other songs are just ones she finds catchy or fun, and often have little or no meaning.

 It was a beautiful day, Cherry Blossom was born today 1st of May, would thanks the Gods, and Elves who helped me, Gandalf and my children, the wet towels on top my head, and the stones out the window to keep the good spirits in and blessings to the outside who would receive them into the world. I told Bilbo my husband what happen, out in the shrine when the people danced to the pole around with coloured bands and said back to him "It's ok Bilbo, is fine, we have our home and I'm happy any ways."Then he went out the porch to bring his symbol of protection towards any the God's Deviation and twist, who has try to offend my name and family." Yes, is your daddy! Cherry Blossom" He made me laugh, and was sweet and calm, we was a humble family with binds of love, welcome to our life our love, we will let no one hurt us, no more. We have our home and joy, it's fine what happens in the world, and we are here... with your brothers and sister, with Dib, and the blue light, with the loyalty we conserved in our hearts. Bilbo run out with the news, and also to some adventures to get something we could not name with the dark elves, could rest with profound wealthy and fun.

Welcome my children; it warms my withering, blackened heart to see you here, reading this... If you do not know all ready. I am Akasha Queen of all who are Damned.  Mother of all Vampires.  I called you all here as I find roleplay quite boring here as of late. I am a long standing old school role-player from 2005. I have seen a load of drama and tons of shenanigans. I am here to boldly stand up and say ENOUGH is ENOUGH!  It is hard as it is to find writers to role-play with let alone good Ricean writers.   The harboring of petty grudges from years ago in the Ricean RP community is tiresome to say the least.  Ridiculous insecurities, petty offenses and stupid jealousies have got in the way of ALL of us writing together for too long of a time. I personally think it is time to wipe the slate clean and come back together.  Stop manipulating one another, stop harboring ill sentiment towards one another and lets write for heaven's sake. Out of all the roleplaying verses I have been part of....long ago the Ricean World had an old world charm and elegance to it, something that is quite non-existent today in other verses. Help me bring it back!  If we argued long ago or disagreed before; I have let it go, you should too! It's dumb, silly and trivial Complete and total nonsense.  It's been over 5 years since I have been in contact with anyone who have wronged me or betrayed me; I have forgiven every single one of you. Do you not think it's about time you do the same! Come back into the fold and write again. Forget all else please. Let us be friends again, let us inspire one another again, let us laugh and cry together- by the ancient gods, I miss it so very much! The writing was splendid, awe- inspiring and fueled with raw emotion.  I with a select few are slowly and I do mean slowly reinventing writing groups (Ricean pages & rpgs) Come back & help us, grow with us, write with us. If you love Lestat and The Vampire Chronicles, if you read only a few novels or all of them, if you have seen films or just want to learn all about the Ricean realm, I will gladly welcome you with open arms. There are loads of canon characters or make up one or 50! Dream with me! Come take my hand and Join me in Death once again! Reply to this post if I have sparked your interest. All my love for eternity, Akasha the Divine & her writer.

The start of monsoon season usually meant light rain and the occasional bad hair day.  Sometimes, the wind would howl against the windows, being nothing more than a nuisance to anyone trying to sleep.  But tonight was different.  Tonight, the rain raged angrily throughout the city, bending trees, throwing trash cans and other objects, and ravaging dozens of vehicles.  The damage wasn't confined to one borough, but rather, it seemed that whoever was pulling the world's strings had decided to punish the entire city at once. Every borough suffered the torrential downpour; every citizen quaked beneath the covers at the sound of pounding thunder.  And then, just as suddenly as it started, it all stopped. The noise was silenced, the wind ran away, and everyone returned to their normal business. Some brave ones even ventured outside to survey the damage or go shopping.  Then, with a single spark, everything went dark.  It wasn't a couple of houses that suffered. The entire city was black as ebony.  Some slept through it. Others rushed home, scrambling to find their car keys or cell phones to call for cabs. And some shrugged it off and returned to their normal business.  Whitney Collins was one such example.  She had been in the shower when the blackout occurred.  Of course, her entire bathroom being swallowed in darkness had made her cry out at first, but she wasn't afraid of the dark at all.She stepped out of the shower, slipping into her favorite robe, and retrieved her cell phone from its charging cable beside her hairbrush. She turned the flashlight on and made her way into the kitchen, finding some candles, lighting them, and then placing them around the room.  A little yip at her feet alerted her to Cocoa's presence. The puppy quaked with fear, even as Whitney picked her up and cuddled her. "It's okay, sweetie. It'll be okay soon," she promised, carrying the puppy to the sofa and sitting down, her legs curled beneath her. Scratching the puppy's ears, Whitney sighed softly to herself. She couldn't believe this. What were the odds that the entire city would go black? She hoped everyone out there was safe.

Prince Agravaine was the second born son of Lot and Morgause, and second in line to the High Throne of England. He was the only dark haired brother in a brood of red heads. He was reputed as the most intelligent and cruel of the brothers, versed in the Craft and powerful not only in military prowess, but in the magickal arts.Sometimes called "the Arrogant" or "the Proud," Sir Agravaine was the second son of King Lot of Orkney and/or Lothian & Queen Morgause, his wife. In his youth, he came to the Court of King Arthur with his brothers and fought in the Saxon Wars, where he liberated the prisoners on the Hill of Wretches. He was rewarded with a knighthood and welcomed into the Order of the Round Table. He managed to put himself about a bit in search of adventure. However, although a very handsome man and a competent knight with sword and axe, he was said to be a most disagreeable character: being described as envious, unsympathetic, hateful and disposed to evil. This view seems to have been largely due to his central role in the movement to expose the torrid affair between Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot. Thus, in the Vulgate Cycle of Arthurian tales, it is Agravaine, rather than Mordred, who emerged as the chief conspirator and he was only finally killed when Lancelot rescued the Queen from the stake. However, Agravaine may be misrepresented. When Gawain was accused of treachery by Guigambresil, it was his brother Agravaine who persuaded him not to respond too hastily and even offered to fight on his brother's behalf. Throughout, his actions seem to have been motivated by family loyalty. His desire to harm Sir Lancelot and his participation in the murder of Sir Lamorak is quite understandable when one considers that their family was responsible for the death of Agravaine's father. Formidable in valour and prowess, strong in magick.

Love what is it. Deep inside, what is it. True love or friendship can never be describe with just the simple words, 'I love you' They're cheap and shallow. Their worth is as much as the many times you hear it said idly with false meaning or pretense.Look around you! Open your eyes. How many times do you see it? How many lies?And yet so many crave it. Crave that lie!So i ask you- What would you do, if you were lucky enough to have the real thing?True love isnt just romance. Friendship isnt just a word!Both come from so deep within. Would you risk everything for a friend. Fight just to be by their side.Would you stand beside them knowing to do so, could be your end.True love or friendship has no fear-Would you be willing to sacrifice everything? Even the simple things like every friend upon your friends lists.  Or your profile for just that one friend?Would you face Blacklisting alone?Would you ask from them nothing in return? and relish every smile they make. Would you falter, or readily judge them When you don't agree with their choices.Could you sacrifice your pride, just to see that smile?Or would you hold your friendship over their head like a wielded weapon?Before you so readily answer these, take a moment to think!To be honest! Risk it all and look deep within yourself! Face the demons of your pride and accept what you see! You'll never have this. Not when you live behind lies.True Love, True Friendship, has no strings!Knows no liesNo conditions or rules to abide by.It doesn't care about your ego or your pride! It doesn't care about popularity or how you look! It is the purest emotion you could feel.You would fight till your very last breath to protect it!And then you would get up and fight again. You would sacrifice your pride! You would sacrifice it all and smile knowing the one's you loved, could laugh or be happy just one more time. Each tear,they might cry. Each trouble they might face.You would walk beside them. Never judging, but accepting and loving!For every decision, good or bad they make..Is who they are! And True love, or True Friendship is pureTheir choices are part of that pure perfectionAnd true perfectionYou shouldn't try to changeIt's perfect, in every way possiblejust as it is...-M.W-bonded by Legolas on Grooveshark'It's a Pack thing'

I have been in roleplay for almost 13 years now on different sites such as Facebook, Roleplayer.Me, RPL, RPU and RP Forever. I put a great deal of effort into my roleplaying so I expect the same from my RP partners. We all have busy lives and a very real life outside of RP... However if I can make time to RP? So can anyone else. I RP almost anything and I can build an RP around any kind of character given I know the character's background and what is expected of me in the duration of the RP.  RULES: 1. I am a very friendly person and I don't do drama, disrespect, jealousy, childishness or disdain. 2. I strictly RP with adults. Meaning you are to be over 18 years of age. Don't waste my time. 3. My OOC is private. If you want to know something? Ask and I will decide whether I trust you enough to share. 4. I NEVER add the same FC on my acc, because I am the only sexy CAT around on my profile. :* 5. I RP in english unless another language is part of the context. 6. I am no whore. So don't expect it. This character is MARRIED and loyal to her husband. So please respect that. 7. If you are a man in a relationship where your girl is not FOR RP with another girl. I do not take kindly to her adding me to watch my profile or posts/RP concerning you. 8. If your a boy in the body of a man who lives on a leash your gf/wife controls? Please remove yourself. I am an adult and a tantrum thrown by an over-grown three year old is childish and very monotonous. If you have no balls to wear the pants in your relationship? Your too weak for me anyway. Don't waste my time or grace in not losing my temper. 9. Mutual respect is very important to me. I will always respect you. So you will respect me. 10. NO cursing on my posts or pics.... If it's a reaction I bring out while we're in bed... then ALLOWED. -smiles- 11. I write in any length of RP. Meaning PARA or ONE-LINERS - I will match it to my partner. To me RP is RP as long as I remain interested. 12. I have a very busy OOC job sometimes as well as a busy life. I will ALWAYS reply. So if I do not reply immediately? Please don't take offence. 13. If you are not planning to commit to RP with me and follow it through? Don't bother starting it. Please don't waste my time as I will not waste yours. 14. I try to RP with all who are interested, I delete silent friends after a period of two weeks. 15. This is MY profile, MY rules. You don't agree with my posts etc. Please delete yourself. Thank you.  Thank you so much to all who have added me and I am looking forward to RP with everyone.   Hope to hear from you soon ....   Cat XOXO    � Original & Official Roleplayers √ Verified ║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌║▌▌ �

１．To begin with, I am not the man in the photos, nor am I affiliated with him in any manner. This is a roleplay profile and the man whose pictures I've used is merely representing a likeness to my character. If you want to know his name, ask.２．No, I do not want to "chat". Anyone who asks will be removed immediately. I will only converse out of character at length with a select few. You probably aren't one of them, so let's stick to roleplaying, shall we?３．Please do not ask if I want to go over a storyline. The answer would be yes, and if you are the one who added me, you should only approach me with an idea or two in mind. I will do the same for those I add. I am not completely against a random starter but if you're going to toss one my way, at least be creative with it. Bump into him on the sidewalk or at a bar/club and he will punch your character in whatever reproductive organs they happen to have, then continue on his way.４．As far as writing goes, I expect literacy and correct usage of grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. I will be lenient with this rule to a degree. Not everyone's native tongue is English and we all make typos, including myself. But incompetence is something I will not stand for.５．I intend to roleplay and converse with mature adults only. If you are under the age of 18 and think you can cutely slip by, think again. Remove yourself from my list or you will be deleted. No exceptions.６．The content of my writing will be extremely graphic. I am an avid fan of horror and gore and these tend to be a big part of my roleplays. There will also be sexual content from time to time, and I am not one to censor my writing in any way. If you cannot handle these I suggest you delete me.７．When it comes to romantic interests, I'd rather not involve my character, so do not ask for a connection of this sort. If something develops during roleplay I will consider it. Also realize anything that happens in character stays in character.８．Whether you are familiar or not with the many Wendigo legends, they all revolve around a cannibalistic spirit in Native American lore. While following several of these legends I have predominantly used my own ideas. My character is not based from any seen in a movie, television show, or comic book. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.９．Do not steal anything from this profile. I happen to like my original ideas and seeing some idiot take off with something I've created because they have no creativity of their own is something that seriously aggravates me. You do not want to do that, trust me.１０．Do not ask me to 1.) Whore you out. 2.) Comment your pictures. 3.) Sign your rules. 4.) Reply daily. If you happen to do any of these I will most likely delete you. If I want to whore you or comment your pictures, I'll do it of my own accord. I have no intention of signing anyone's rules and I don't expect anyone to sign mine, only to read them. And because my world doesn't revolve around this place, I will reply whenever I see fit.Possibly more to come later.

These aren't rules so much as personal preferences. As with any other guidelines, I can't force you to go along with them. But, if we are to write together and get along while doing so, I'd like to think the below are acknowledged. I truly don't believe I ask for much beyond common sense and courtesy.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -◆ I am a multi-para to novella writer. I always strive for novella; I will never write below multi-para. I don't go by specific word counts. I don't do stream-play. I won't touch one-liners with a bargepole. Please be capable of writing at least three good paragraphs.◆ Literacy is essential. A no-brainer, really. If I can't understand what you're typing, how do you expect me to reply? Everyone makes typos. Not everyone's first language is English. I know these things and I understand them. All I ask is that you're capable of basic spelling and grammar. ◆ Comments vs Messages. All out of character conversations (introductions, discussions, etc.) belong in messages. All writing takes place in comments. It's how I've always worked, even on sites before this one, and I will never switch. Also on this note, please, for the love of the Gods, do not send me those generic comment greetings - I hate those, and I'll just ignore them.◆ I don't do group storylines. I don't have the time to commit to them – and besides that, I simply have no interest in them.  While I appreciate any invitations, it's not going to happen. My desire to write is driven solely by one-on-one plots, always has been, and it will remain so until the day I retire (or the day one-on-ones become extinct – whichever happens first).◆ Don't be a number. If you requested me, I assume it's because you want to discuss a storyline. I believe it's more of a courtesy than anything to make first contact with the person you've requested. If you can't show that simple interest in discussing and writing (between posting 20+ statuses a day, in most cases), I'm going to doubt if you write at all. If you don't write, I have no reason to keep you around.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Well, I'd say that's that. As you may see, there's no need to comment (or 'sign') these guidelines. Like I said before, I think they're all pretty much common sense, and for the most part there's never any conflicts.So, let the writing begin, shall we?

So it has occurred to me after talking to a few people that I'm going to need rules around here. Not that anyone reads these things anymore, anyway. 1.) Disclaimer: I'm not Justin Chatwin or Finnegan O'Reilly in real life. Finn was a character created by me only and the storyline is completely original since 2008. If I see that anyone has stolen parts of my storyline or anything relating to my original character that I have worked very hard on, I will not hesitate to bother you, get you deleted, etc. No one steals FINN FROM ME.2.) GOD-MODING: Please, please, for the love of all that is holy do not god-mode me. I have already had this happen and it pissed me off right away. For those noobs out there, god-moding is when you play my character for me - make him speak, do things, etc. without consulting me first. Or, if one for  it throughout an ENTIRE reply. You do not play Finn, I play Finn. Play your own character and leave his actions, thoughts, feelings, words, to me. Got it? If not, you'll be ignored and deleted. 3.) Love interest: I'm not here to search for a love interest. Simple as that. I do not want desperate girls coming to me asking to be my love interest - especially when I don't know them and haven't gotten to know them. Do not automatically "fall in love" with my character while roleplaying unless it's a two-way thing. If I don't respond to the flirting, do not continue it. If it gets annoying, I'll probably delete you. 4.) REAL LIFE: I won't always be online. There may be a time I'm not on for an entire week. If that's an issue for you, please feel free to delete me off your list. I'm here to write on my free time and if I'm busy during the week I may not log on until the weekend. I'm about to graduate from college and go into the real world, job hunting, etc, I can't always, sadly, be in a fantasy world here online. So please, don't expect quick replies all the time, and if it bothers you, I won't care if you delete me. 5.) DRAMA: I do not tolerate any form of drama other than IC (in character) storyline drama. Do not pull me into your drama with another role-player, or any real life drama. I don't care, and I'll find you annoying for having drama online to begin with. (you do know this all isn't real, right? you are behind a computer screen and this isn't your real life? OKAY.) :3 6.) VERSE: I have on my headline that I'm in Harry Potter verse, however, with Finn being an original character he can be in many different verses. I will not be picky when it comes to verses, so we can get as creative as you'd like. Make it fun, interesting, and I'll RP with you. I can't even think of a verse off the top of my head I wouldn't RP in, except, maybe...porn LMAO

DO NOT READ, IF EASILY OFFENDED!CONTAINS- MUTILATION, EXTREME GORE AND HORROR THEMESThe stench of cooling fesses and urine waffled under your nose. Enough to make you gag. You feel the vomit rise up, burning against your throat, The sickly vile after taste as you swallow; quickly pushing the contents of your stomach back down.  Bitter sweet becomes the saliva that coats your mouth trying to erase the taste. The warmth that absorbs into the fragile flesh of your throat. So you swallow, once, maybe twice and try to force yourself to breath through your mouth; as you approach. Your tongue absorbs it. Mind works in over time trying to register the taste and the lingering warmth that still surrounds it. Metallic, almost like rust, yet with the warmth of a fading life force. The hint of food half digested. You wonder if its the remnants the slight after taste of your own vomit still lingering. Your skin absorbs it. The stench of the fading warmth though you do not feel it. You smell it, taste it. It so close! One step? Maybe two ?Slowly the darkness begins to fade. A shadow lays upon the ground.  A crumpled mass of darkness. And in shades of crimson, white, with hues of purple, orange and black etching with the skin tones of flesh you understand what it is you see. The limbs contorted bent misshapen and out of context to the body. Twisted and snapped deformed they lay lifeless  spread at angles impossible if alive.You breath, sharp! The stench once again filling your nostrils, setting your throat on fire  you feel your  stomach lifting yet your curiosity quells it. Slowly you take a step closer. Curious your eyes travel over it's nakedness. The small things you notice first. eyes lingering upon toes coated in dirt and how it gathers beneath the nails. The ankles snapped beyond a doubt, the skin pulled taunt twisted in folds like its been wrung out to dry. Splitting under the forced pressure of a protruding bone; jaggedly snapped with splintered edges coated in congealing blood and gristle.  Missing shards that expose the darkening marrow within. A movement small, swift before it settles a fly, rapidly its legs move feeding, busily unaware of your watching eyes.Slowly your focus returns ... and your eyes travel up the legs. Molten in the marring; the shades of purple, black and orange bruising look more natural then the odd patches of unmarked, blood splattered flesh. The lines of its limb taking your sight to its groin. A mass of black crimson congealing blood and flesh, its genitals unrecognizable with their mutation as they lay chilling like like chewed up food upon a plate. Yet you recognize the body; its shape, its the same sex as you. The curve of its hips confirms your thoughts; yet does not hold your attention. Your focus is drawn inwards as you find yourself unwillingly admiring the meticulous craftsmanship. The detail. The precision of unwavering hands as they worked tediously to slowly sliced into the skin and peel it backwards exposing the moist underside coated in clumps of clinging pink gore and the darkening yellow of fat slowly drying upon the blood . Slices placed with precision to liken the petals of a flower! Stamens of intestines circle the inner petals, round and round they loop in circles that weave  over and under upon themselves.  Bloating with gas as the body slowly begins to cool.Further in, movement, the thick congealing blood and flesh seems to move a life in its self. You step closer. Seeing the small wriggling movements of blood covered maggots as they squirm in the thousands over each other; feeding upon the succulent organs placed meticulously around what looks like a head. Instantly your eye glance up along the body, Once again confirming your thoughts. The neck. Its flesh, ripped, torn! It's vertebrae, exposed.  Gleaming white against the blackening pool of blood in which it lays. More flies... Happily feeding. Buzzing, swiftly mating. Busy making themselves at home!Your eyes transfixed, slide back down the body. Mesmerized in the sheer brutality, inhuman beauty created by a psychotic mind. You should hate it. You should be screaming, but you stand silent transfixed upon the color of its hair. Matted in its own blood. It protrudes from the macabre flowers stamen of intestines and blood soaked maggots. Its the same color as yours.  Strange the small things that stick out and make sense within your mind! Again you find yourself stepping closer. Enthralled. The way the maggots are slowly wiggling their way along the strands of hair. You can not turn away. Why aren't you screaming? Running....  Why are you stood with your eyes fixated?You can see the gas building in the intestines, they bloat precariously against the thin gut lining. A random image, like sausages splitting upon a hot BBQ plate' filter through your thoughts. And is instantly gone as the gut lining gives way; exploding out the contents of a last meal. The putrid warmth, it feels hot against your face. The taste as it hits upon your open lips like the vomit you swallowed only moments before....You can not move. Your eyes are transfixed upon the now exposed head, its face.. It mouth open in a silent blood drenched scream. The Maggots that fall wiggling and writhing from its nostrils. Its sightless milky eyes staring up at you, accusingly. Your heart stops! Sheer fear! Confusion, obliterated in its beautiful intensity. You know that face!It's you!Suddenly you open your eyes! Your room is filled with darkness.And the stench of cooling fesses, of urine waffled under your nose. Enough to make you gag. Feeling the vomit rise up, burning against your throat,....Abstract 'Melkor'*A Nightmare? A dream within a dream.*When you hate yourself - the massacreBut long to be seen as more- like the beauty of flower!- 

Clover, Miki & Ciara ClareHarimanna, silver & katKitty, Smokes, Blue & Flora