Mole

Current Mood in One Gif

Word association Game!

Sleep

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

𝓣he library was a beautiful building, but it was not nearly as beautiful as Lady Alyssana, Lord Finnegan thought. There was something more classical about the woman than any other thing in the world. Afterall, beauty would save the world. However, he did not want his mind to wander. He had a few things himself he had to get at the library. It was duty that he attempted at least a couple times before flouncing himself forward with getting some sort of librarian to set him straight, “If you feel faint, Walter, by the shield of Saint George the Trophy bearer, say something to Lord Christopher before we have tragedy on our hands,” he breathed in a little, looking down at his wristwatch. He was already feeling a little resentful of the travel himself, but being around Lady Alyssana had forced him to prove something of himself.

Was this how all his lady friends felt after he doused them?

Of course, not.

It was merely impossible.

“Yes, brother,” Walter smiled sweetly with his hazel eyes. His lips cusped upwards as he looked to Lord Christopher. All the adventure that was about to unfold. There were other types of adventures that could grasp them, but libraries, especially this one, had a special knack for surprising each and every one of its guests with something different and unusual. There was a unique magical mist that seemed to set it apart from some of the even larger libraries in the other cities. Lord Christopher had only heard of the few adventures his brother and other acquaintances had been on in those other knowledgeable buildings, but by far, the ones that took him in this particular one were by far the very best.

With that, Lord Walter looked to the pocket watch in Lord Christopher’s hand and followed, as if the device was some sort of compass before putting it away. He quickly began following his friend, both with curiosity wrapped around their minds. It was nothing unusual to see, but in the least, it was still unique as was stated in which the library treated each and every quest with the same special particularities that no two guests or visits were the same.

Lord Finnegan watched as the two younger men wandered through the dissension of books. Their footsteps were slowly lost to the discord, “That’s fine, as long as Walter watches himself more than the books, and honestly, I prefer we take care of you, first,” he smiled with a bit of shy slyness, “If I am not mistaken in assuming that you have a few or more gentle reads in mind?” He was eager to get lost in the rows of books with her and really did prefer the pompous art of letting the lady go first. Besides, it reminded him of the first time they shared a dance

It was a memory he would hold close to him, not just whenever he took a step into the library but as long as the stars flared up in the nighttime mist and the moon surfaced without deceit and as easily to remember and rehearse in his mind as to count the sun to rise in the morning. It was a memory eternally engraved and to cherish all the same, even more now, standing so close to her.

It almost killed him to breathe her in.

𝓣ℎ𝑒 𝓕𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝒻 𝓐𝑙𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑎 & 𝓕𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡.

𝓛ady Alyssana's lack of response was disheartening, and Lord Finnegan could not help but give her some sort of smile in response. It was rehearsed gentlemanly like the rest of his behaviors. There was much to be said about her silence, and he was not going to push her. The woman's will was an animal of its own, and he was busy taming a different part of her, “Very well, the library it is then,” he spoke for Walter, who was busy juggling the thoughts of speaking and taking another sip of his tea. He was after all is said and done, the clumsier and more bashful version of his older brother.

He looked down at his several wrist watches. They were still ticking in their quietly ticking ways. They had different times for different places around the world. Finnegan had offered to purchase him something that had several dials and on one face, but he refused to wear something of the sorts after getting so attached to the ones already on his arm, “Going to the library sounds as a good idea as any,” Lord Walter finally admitted. He was giddy and was not certain he wanted to show anymore of it. The tea was definitely helping with his fiddling mind, and getting a few books for learning would be quite worth his time. He was always eager to do what his brother said, albeit when the Greys came into their manor, it seemed he suddenly had more worth in amongst the guests.

Lord Walter quickly removed himself from his chair but not before saying, “Excuse me!” And “Yes, let us go!” to Lord Christopher as they went to go don their jackets and other necessities for the trip.

. ❖ .

_{𝓣𝒉𝒆 𝓑𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂 𝒐𝒇 𝓢𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒍}

𝓣he Bibliotheca of Soleil was across town. It was not the only library in town, but it was the main library. The library had smaller locations for the ones who had a much more difficult time traveling across town, and those particular libraries had not as many glorious books and many repetitive literature that could be found in the main library near the center of the town. This particular library was large and at one point, Lord Walter had gone by himself, and after taking the steam-cranked elevator downwards to the basement, nearly fell to the floor from exhaustion after getting lost.

There were columns of books everywhere with ladders and stairs and traits of flourishing ideas. It was almost a beast of a place to be. However, the entrance being as tidy and finely lit seemed to offer a perpetual steeple of insightful and glorious knowledge that always encouraged anyone who left the library from exhaustion with a new found hope of freedom for learning and education. It is also true that only the library workers, regulars, and nobles find this library easy to navigate.

Lord Finnegan had thought it was a perfect place to murder someone as it is so large, but his admiration for the art or writing tended to overwhelm him whenever he stepped afoot inside the monstrous library. It's Gothic architecture with flying buttresses had some sort of power over him, and he proposed it some sort of middle ground of sorts where government officials and locals could play fairly next to each other without fearing any negative outcomes.

𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒎 - 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

_{a short story | inspired by TDAC#1
chess & relationships}

[+]

<sub>Drowning

It was cold on the patio, and small specks of snow were beginning to fall from the evening sky. It reminded Jennifer
of the warm, summery night, Frederick and she had first met at some bar in the downtown area. Both had just graduated
from college, and he was trying his hardest to be the best man he could be, while she was nearly drunk next to her best
friend. She had been loud, while he had been his usual quiet and reserved self, simply enjoying a single bottle. They
were all having a good time, and they bumped into each other. Somehow, they both meshed.

“Are you being real?” He asked her with a smile.

“Of course I am!” She said with as much verbose personality as possible. She was merry and she could have cared less
about this man, especially with her best friend by her side. All the two women cared about was having fun. Hookups, dating,
and marriage could wait. They were too busy enjoying the stress free life of no school. Sure, work was a bummer, but those
incoherent deadlines were forgotten and in the past.

For Frederick, it was love at first site. Never before her, had he met a woman like her. Unfortunately, Jennifer had absolutely
no idea there was anything between them for the longest time. She was slow to notice these things, like the white powder
falling from the sky. As he got to know her more, she proved to be nothing like the drunk woman he met at the bar. Yes,
she could be ridiculous sometimes, and yes, there was a bombastic side that could behoove anyone. However, she was
generally a quiet person who preferred her own personal space just like he did.

Right now, hers was on the patio staring at the dark, hazy sky. The moon was shining brightly, and something about the
beauty made her tear up. The moon was always there, every night, save for new moons, and even then, she counted the
moon as still being there. It represented a new beginning, a new phase. Right now, the moon was full like a huge white
flower. There would be four more phases until a new moon and a new beginning. She was praying for one.

Frederick's personal space was inside their apartment. He was staring at his computer screen, plugging away variables for
his rising entrepreneur computer program. It would offer him financial relief and a fresh outlook for how his home life was
looking with all the incoherent deadlines at work. However, this evening happened. He was already over it and wanted her
gone, but Jennifer processed information differently, especially when she was like this.

Earlier, when Frederick asked with a stern loudness, “Are you being real?” She responded with a lack of personality. Her eyes
were downcast and lonely. She looked empty, and her voice was spoken with as much quietness as possible. He did not know
who she was anymore. He was unsure if she was even a person. She did not seem to care. The mesh between them had been
torn, and they were swimming without each other in the ocean, again. They were two fish, who had forgotten how to love each
other, and he was too slow to react, as usual.

“Of course, I am,” she responded with a frown.</sub>

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 - 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅

_{S E E B E L O W}

[c a n c e l e d]

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒔 - 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅

_💡

Microfiction&Poetry Contest #1 - Voting and Feedback

_{M E T A M O R P H O S I S}

The curve of the poem caught my eye and is lovely like the quaint and unique wording that has been chosen.


_{T H E B U T T E R F L Y}

The acrostic is adorable, and each line offers a promising read.


_{B U T T E R F L Y}

As an haiku, the opening word captured my attention immediately and followed with every bit of excitement for something cheery.


_{П О Л У Д Е Н Н О Е С О Л Н Ц Е}

Slavic folklore meets Japanese intense simplicity ought to have been met with a translation of "fluttering" as opposed to "glowing."

_{S U M M E R H A I K U}

A summer haiku referencing the cycle of growth and the redundant of seasonal reoccurrence is small and nice some sort of halo of life.


_{D R E A M S}

The metaphorical paralleling with plain speech implications for growth is quite lovely.


_{T H E S U M M E R O F 2 0}

The 16th century-inspired poem is quite in-depth and portrays the hardship of not just cheery life but darker side of nature in a twisted manner.


_{S E N S I T I V I T Y T O I N I T I A L C O N D I T I O N S}

A traditional long-suffering struggle of a promise that can be easily broken by modern day standards leaves me with the question of, "Is the glass half-empty or half-full?"

---

There is no vote because like @BrokenPromise, I have no proper knowledge of the medium. However, all the entries have their wonderful qualities, even the ones not mentioned in this post. Thank you so very much for the wonderful read.

𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒔 - 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕

C H I L D R Ǝ N O F T H E A P O C A L Y P S E


_{^{W I L L O W • ♀ • 1 1}}