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Little Ketten- FamilyBrynjolf was about to bark a curse at the thing that had fallen on him, shooting to his feet as the rest of the Guild woke up when the gate clattered to the ground. However, the Nord stopped, mouth half open as he beheld his adversary.
"What...what are you?" He sputtered, staring down at it.
The little creature was rather thin, with oddly colored skin showing through it's torn sleeves. It's legs were still on Brynjolf's bed, and they propped themselves up on their elbows from their position on the floor and tilted their face up to meet the thief's gaze. A pair of golden brown eyes, slotted like those of the beast races, blinked up at him.
As if suddenly remembering a purpose, the creature shoved a hand into the sash at their waist and pulled out its contents to hold out to Brynjolf. "If you agree to let me go, and pay the cheap price of just a few hundred septiums per jewel, I can make you the richest man in all of Tamriel in a few days!"
It was Brynjolf's turn to blink. The rest of th
Little Ketten- Speaking with SilenceKet took a steadying breath and stared at the puzzle lock before her, ebony bow held at her side. “I think we have a problem, Mercer.” The Khajiit announced, moving aside so that the Thieves Guild Master could see the empty claw keyhole.
At seventeen and five foot six, Ket was not the most imposing young woman. Her body was a lean network of sinew and muscle, coiled tight like a spring as her tail flicked back and forth at annoyance as she viewed the latest setback. After seven years of working and living with the Thieves Guild, the Dagi Raht Khajiit was as rough and tumble as Vex but as sly and sneaky as Delvin, and could rival Niruin with the bow at any time. She retained a childlike happiness when off the job, however, and was still considered the Guild’s ‘little sister,’ so to speak.
Mercer growled and gruffly moved Ket aside with a light shove. Despite her reputation as a capable thief, Mercer never showed the Khajiit a spark of kindness since he had
Stream of Consciousness 2012-2013Sometimes you just want to run, and run, and run, and you wonder if you keep running fast enough you will run off that cliff and if you’ll land on your stomach, or your face, or if you’ll land on your feet or your knees and you wonder if you’ll break anything and if you’ll be in too much pain to get up but you know you have to just keep running because if you stop for just a moment they’ll catch you and that you’ll just want to hurt yourself again, or you’ll realize that you have been lying to everyone every day and you don’t even bat an eye at it, and you’ll remember that you were always telling the kid that tried to kill himself in front of the class yesterday to stop being so rude and you were never gentle when you told him to quit it because every day and all day there’s this beast inside you, a wolf that is tearing at your insides and setting your limbs tingling as he begs to be let out and let him ta
Unusual Companions: Secrets in the Dark pt 2Though it took time, Ket was soon back to her usual self- curious, sneaky, and overall impulsive. Sure, she tired more easily than before, and had an appetite that Kaminda was finding rather hard to sate, but at least the cat was able to draw her bow again.
Despite all this, Kaminda sensed a change in Ket’s demeanor. She seemed...anxious. Ill at ease. And, most disturbing of all, she seemed to be silently brooding about something.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” Kaminda suddenly blurted out. Ket’s head whipped up and her ears suddenly laid flat. Trying to calm her friend, Kaminda raised her hands and said again, “It wasn’t your fault that you got ambushed. Some jerk had probably seen us with our loot, wanted to get an easy score, and set you up by telling the Thalmor that you were some weird, half Nord Khajiit with a taste for Talos worship.”
Ket’s expression went from startled to worried. “I look half Nord?” She asked
Unusual Companions: Secrets in the Dark pt 1THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
Ket groaned and burrowed deeper into the sweet smelling grasses that made up her mattress. She was awake, but she could never remember another time when she wanted to be unconscious with such a passion.
Ignoring the insistent sound of the snowstorm that pounded the door of her little hidden shack, Ket cracked her eyes open and stared at the dead fire pit with equally dead eyes. She ached all over, from the tip of her tail to the last piece of fur on her ears. The alternating hazes of blistering heat to icy cold made the Khajiit want to start peeling her skin off and go dive in the snow, all to get a consistent temperature.
The cat shifted slightly, trying to sit up and reach her waterskin. The tight, pulsing throb in her right arm suddenly shot up in intensity, sending Ket back down to land on her shoulder heavily. Annoyed, Ket let her eyes wander over to the offending limb, traveling up the hand that lay limp in the sweet straw.
Ext. Unusual Companions Skit- Sneezes in the DarkKet held back her urge to sneeze as dank, dust laden air drifted past her sensitive nose. Sure, she might not have the full on look of a Khajiit, but it didn’t stop her senses from being overactive with the scents, lights and textures of the world. Crypts like the one she and Kaminda were currently raiding were always a trouble, seeing as the old remains of Nords and Draugr tended to crumble away into dust and bone meal after the first few thousand years.
After a moment more of holding her breath, Ket stopped walking and pinched her nose shut. Kaminda nearly ran into the Dagi raht, and she scowled up at her companion when she did not move. “What?”
Ket held up a hand, still holding her nose. The Redguard sighed, then nearly jumped out of her skin as the cat let out an out of place squeak.
“What was that?” Kaminda asked, drawing closer to Ket as she readied her weapons. Though she would never admit it do the Dagi Raht, Kaminda was nearly blind in the dark th
breathe that soul straight down my throatyou are my full-lipped muse
and half-lidded siren
humming a broken chorus
breathing to a metronome
sighing in crescendo
an evangelizer of acoustics
the ministry of instrumentals
I've been baptized
in your anarchist hymns
you've made me a believer
of vinyl and a religion without god
The Lost Who WanderI find myself
at the feet of a god,
not with expectation,
praying falsely for
of divine intervention,
but out of sheer desperation,
like those who murmur
prayers to St. Jude,
within the darkness
where there is none
over the rocks
with the blind,
not counting how many
along the way,
all to hear enigmatic
from the parched
of a mad woman
with hallucinatory visions
living in a cave
which sweeps over me
in waves of nausea.
I martyr myself
for your pain,
and grieve unaccountably
for your loss,
it seers through me,
like St. Sebastian
I find myself penetrated
full of holes, bearing the marks
of a guilt which should
never have been my own.
But that dose not entirely
absolve me, there is
no escape from my own
all I can do is watch you
and wait for dead prayers
to be answered
by the indifferent
sages who devour
our fates making
bets as they attempt
VoicesWalking as a child on desolate wild ways
a voice would often call
“Come to me child, come to me.”
It was not to be heard, it was in my mind
wafting like waves on a shore
ebbing soft then strong
“I know you. I know you!” I would cry!
Now that I am grown
that voice has become a chorus
they beckon to me always
cross vast distances they call
“Come to us child, come to us!”
“Let us share with you our pain!”
“Let us know that we are not alone!”
“Please help us find our way!”
V. L. Croasdell 1992
INFINITELY LILITHI am not dead for I cannot die,
once Man thought I could be easily misused,
exiling me to an epilogue no longer remembered
as he blotted out my blush from staining
the Earth's chrysalis rind, if only he knew
that beneath my touch knowledge took root
and pumpkins were hollowed out into shapes
-seedless and skinless-as infinite as the mind.
I am not dead, I cannot die
for I am the memory of primevel bliss,
though blackened my skeleton still exists,
licking the Silence clean so my name can
bite more soundly, a thousand serpents hiss
from my nebula center, welcoming to me
my children who bring the blood that feeds
my dessicated garden, ravenously growing,
I cannot regret for I live too purely to repent
the pushing and prodding of my blossoms to be
known by the timeless exuberance of eons past,
in the Moonlight I move and speak of dark things
not really dead and the light not really blessed
without me being known first, infinitely I say
I am not dead for I cannot die.
I am Lilith.
UntitledToday, Father, we need Your aid
For in the in the present, battles rage
With Your guidance, victory will be made
And Your praise will be sung from age to age
at the endisthmus tossed over the edge
wipes the bull's back
in the odourless sun
the tiger could rest
could perhaps be crossed
the temple is marble,
white and final
the boy stands up
Chakrathe Tree of Life is in your hands
the winding of your veins
up and down and through your arms
it ends up in your heart
pulsing Blood is your own story
a tale that’s told in cells
shrinking down in four dimensions
hidden by old Mimir’s holt
on and on into obscurity
hidden by the Veil of Maja
you are a piece of eternity
your final end is God
THAT PAIN YOU FEELThat pain you feel is muscle building,
destruction of the worn away pieces.
Staircases being built while you work away,
signs saying "Construction: please use detour".
Walking partially on the backs of past foremen,
who built their own homes and left behind the blueprints.
The world can't show restraint in its assault,
but the paths have been cut for those who would spit in the eyes of gods.
Look down at yourself now,
That six pack didn't grow itself.
Hark! You Linger StillNot the wind, the rain, nor the driven snow
would ever, could ever, should ever know
Just how deep your roots go
Spread through the soil like so many fingers
Deep in the earth a part of you lingers
After the flesh has gone and you've been stripped of leaves
Deep deep down a part of me grieves
But rejoice! There you still live, even after your trunk gives.
Waiting to grow and spring forth anew!
Even though this won't be the same you.
Hark! The sun and the earth they do know
How far you've fallen, just to regrow.
The Angel and The DemonThe Angel and The Demon
Are sitting side by side.
One desires freedom,
The other swells with pride.
The Angel turns to the Demon,
And asks him, rather snide,
"Did your master take your wings, then,
Or did he flay your evil hide?"
The Demon does not answer,
But turns away and grins.
He knows the Angel's master
Created every sin.
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