Misc. Writings (Not sure where else this would go)

[Galax]

I write. Anyone who read my introduction thread sees I do at least a little. Usually, I copy anything I write and paste it to a notepad doc, to preserve it. Eventually it built up, and I like to share, as well as to know what others think.

With that aside, the first entry has no name. None at all. I wrote it on a stroke of inspiration and am now stuck with where to go from there. The name Galax is...a signature of mine. It's used here for lack of something else, and honestly, I've been using it so long it's nearly a personality of its own, which makes it easy to integrate into a story.

Prologue

Galax - by all accounts an unremarkable young man - approached the door of the office. He was in for it now, he knew that; He'd sent an opponent to the hospital with a training blade. Every part of him, from his short, curling red hair, right down to his lightly tanned bare feet, trembled with fear. It was clear in the reflection of his green-gold eyes, staring back at him off the highly polished glass of the Headmaster's Office. He stretched out a long trembling arm and knocked with a thin-fingered fist on the office door. "Come in, Galax..." sighed the Headmaster Hawk's voice. Headmaster Hawk was very familiar with Galax Sinow's face; The boy had been sent to him more times than any other student in the entirety of the Sword&staff Training Institutes history. The school was, most unusually, not named for its founder, but for its purpose - training young men and women in the art of self defense by the Sword, Staff, and the Fist.

Of course, when you send your child to a school such as this - a school with the intent to train them in combat of some variety - you expect accidents. It's inevitable that something eventually happen in a place where hundreds of young adults are cooped up with all manner of sharp blades and multipurpose staves are hung on walls for decoration. Even so, nobody could have predicted the number of "accidents" Galax managed to have with other students. All this comes together to form the scene you - the reader - are about to hear about.

Galax opened the door to the Headmaster's office, closed it softly behind him, and turned to look Headmaster Hawk in the eye, so as to explain himself before he lost his nerve...and before Headmaster Hawk had a chance to head off his explanations.

"Sir, I'm sorry I concussed Lewena, really...I don't know how I even managed it, you and I both know she's much stronger than I am, there's really no chance I could have done it, honest!" Galax said, very quickly, to prevent any possibility of an interruption.

"Galax, please, calm yourself. I know you couldn't have given a concussion to anyone, much less Lewena. Your own specialty is in light arms, and I know you were using a wooden knife, for Lords' sake. I daresay she's faking it to gain some attention, but until the medical report comes back, I'm afraid we do have to have a talk as to how you'd manage to knock her down." Headmaster Hawk, always quicker with words than blades, was quicker again to calm the lad, lest he not be allowed a word edgewise. Galax himself was very confused; It didn't seem like he was being punished for something that, by default, merited at least a suspension from the school...Or worse, confinement in the ancient dungeons. "Sir...I'm sorry, I don't understand. Lewena is the farthest..." He stopped quickly, for Hawk had held up a hand. "I know how she is, Galax...and I know how unlikely it is that she be one to fake anything. Nevertheless...something happened, and I can think of no likelier explanation."

Hawk was on the point of adding "Unless you know one?" when there was an urgent knock on the door and, without the knocker waiting for a reply, Ophelia Duren rushed in to the office. "Sir, Headmaster...It wasn't Galax's fault, you mustn't punish him! It's my fault, I swear...I didn't know...I just found a scroll and I was trying to sound out what was written on it, I swear! I didn't know...I couldn't..." Ophelia had, to top off breaking two seperate rules - "You will not enter a room without first knocking and receiving a reply" and "You will not interfere with the punishment of another student lest their life is in danger" - started babbling so quickly she was nearly incoherent. "Calm yourself, Ophelia! Calm! If you have an explanation for this, take a breath, and start from the top, slowly and clearly, understood?" Hawk said, keen not to let her rattle on. He knew Ophelia would never make any sense, nor would she be quiet for some time, if he didn't cut her off early. "Sir...I'm sorry..." she took a deep breath, and continued. "I...I was poking around the lower floors, and I know we're not supposed to, but..well...I couldn't resist. I found an old chest, a rusted key still in it's lock, and in the chest were scrolls...Dozens of them. I took a few out and smuggled them back to my dormitory, sir, and was deciphering one while waiting my turn for single combat training." Ophelia's voice was getting steadily stronger as she carried on, but at this point it cracked a little as if she were recalling something painful; She began to stutter a little. "I-it didn't...It wasn't hard t-to figure out...and when...when I finally strung it all together and said what w-was written, Lewena jerked...she...she just fell...right as Galax swung and..and missed her, sir, a very sure strike...He wasn't even aiming at her head, he was aiming for her shield arm. I...I'm sorry..." She stopped talking, but began instead to chew on her lip.

Stunned, and trying very hard to process exactly what this meant, headmaster Vincent Hawk did not notice Galax walking to his display wall until he took a blade off the wall. "Galax! What are you doing, lad? Put that up at once!" He shouted, fully aware that if this meant what it looked like...he had no chance of persuading the boy to put down the blade.

Galax turned to the Headmaster. "It's...it's beautiful, sir. It...I swear it called to me...I'm sorry, sir, I can't leave it, and I don't think I can stay. I must go and see Lewena. She'll be awake by now..." He said. Hawk opened his mouth to ask Galax how he could possibly know that Lewena was awake, as he'd only gotten the alert on his Student Status Buzzer a moment before. However, he decided against trying to question a boy who had the nerve to take down a blade like the one he'd picked off the wall, especially while he was still holding it. "Galax...a-are you...alright?" Ophelia asked, clearly concerned for her friends mental health. He merely nodded, however, took Ophelias hand, and led her out of the office...and for the first time in months, out of the school.

Ch.1


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Not really sure if I'll continue that. I'm upset with the...sudden change of tone I took. I write purely on reflex; If I don't seize the chance inspiration brings, I'll never write it at all. That, coupled with the seeming overuse of names...Eh. It's not my favorite work, but I do more poetry than actual storyline.

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Twelve Days of Evil

On the first day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

One Drunken Spinning Enemy.

On the second day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Two possessed Boomas

and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the third day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Three Demon Rappies, two possessed Boomas

and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the fourth day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies, two possessed Boomas

and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the fifth day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Five Jack-O-Lanterns, four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies, two possessed Boomas and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the sixth day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Six Stupid Pig Rays, five Jack-O-Lanterns, four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies,

two Possessed Boomas and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the seventh day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Seven Bee L's, six Stupid Pig Rays, five Jack-O-Lanterns, four Ob Lillies,

three Demon Rappies, two Possessed Boomas and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the eighth day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Eight Bee R's, seven Bee L's, six Stupid Pig Rays, five Jack-O-Lanterns

four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies, two Possessed Boomas

and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the ninth day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Nine Quick Delsabers, eight Bee R's, seven Bee L's, six Stupid Pig Rays,

five Jack-O-Lanterns, four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies,

two Possessed Boomas and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the tenth day of evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Ten Monomates, nine Quick Delsabers, eight Bee R's, seven Bee L's,

six Stupid Pig Rays, five Jack-O-Lanterns, four Ob Lillies,

three Demon Rappies, two Possessed Boomas,

and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the eleventh day of evil, Dark Falz gave ot me

Eleven Photon Drops, ten Monomates, nine Quick Delsabers, eight Bee R's,

seven Bee L's, six Stupid Pig Rays, five Jack-O-Lanterns,

four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies, two Possessed Boomas,

and one Drunken Spinning Enemy

On the twelfth day of Evil, Dark Falz gave to me

Twelve Freeze Traps, eleven Photon Drops, ten Monomates,

nine Quick Delsabers, eight Bee R's, seven Bee L's,

six Stupid Pig rays, five Jack-O-Lanterns,

four Ob Lillies, three Demon Rappies,

two Possessed Boomas, and

one Drunken Spinning Enemy
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That's based on a game, Phantasy Star Online. Falz is a small part of the Profound Darkness, which is basically evil incarnate, out to rule everything. Fun guy.
-------
I'm afraid that the above is all I've managed to save so far. I had more, much more, but it was lost when I lost access to the old computer, which has since died. Anything retained is on a forum currently in a flux state, with the front page accessible but consisting of nothing but broken images and a random link that leads to some advertising site. If I've got the right place for this, I'm likely to post more.

-Galax
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Thursday, March 07, 2013, 9:24AM EST

It appears I had a second backup of at least some of my poetry. It isn't fully up to date...But I hope someone reads it.

The Bomber in Blue

-----------------------

Is that the Bomber I see?
The one who is rumored.
The one who is feared?
It seems what they say is true.
Death comes in Blue.

The battle that must ensue,
I await in my lair,
In my room.

My minions die for me,
Faithfully, fatefully,
I know the time must come,
That I,
and I alone,
Shall face the one clad in Blue.

He has arrived, and I make my entrance.
The music begins to play,
to signify a battle,
a battle fought until one of us is Slain.

He fights bravely, and with powers I know not.
Is that a bomb, cast at my side?
My ally used such a strike.
Anger fills my circuits,
I cannot explain it,
It seems the one clad in Blue
has a few tricks I wish I knew.

So what can conclusion can I bring my tale to?

Death comes in Blue,
and when he decides his victim is you,
there is no escape,
there is no way out,
so face him like a man,
and perhaps you won't be left to rot.

------------------------------

The Farmlands I Tend

------------------------------

The day begins, early in Spring
The 2nd, according to my clock.
I eat my breakfast, knowing the routine that awaits,
once I walk out that door, the day may begin.

First things first, I have animals to tend.
Livestock to brush, milk and shear,
Chickens to love and collect eggs for my dear.
Then I find the fields calling my name,
In need of water, in need of care,
So that the plants may grow,
and a profit I may reap.
Each season has it's own
crop of of the time,
One above all,
none which fit in this rhyme.

So in closing, I must say,
Hard work should be viewed
as naught but a good day.

------------------------------

The Pain that Can't be Healed

------------------------------

You haven't felt the pain,
Allow me to explain,
It's like burning in acid rain,
No energy to sustain,
A mind not yet insane.

You have yet to drown,
In despair pulling you down,
To tired to utter a sound,
As the world crumbles around.

No place to put your fears,
You plead for one who hears,
And yet no savior appears,
Further the heat does sear.

Nowhere else to run,
You see the setting sun,
Air escapes your lungs,
It's all been said and done.

The pain you no longer feel,
The wounds that can't be healed,
Buried by the final seal,
None left to appeal.

Your life feels like death,
No longer do you draw breath,
For there's not one thing left,
Worth your life to heft.

------------------------

The Seasonal Cycle

------------------------

Spring begins the neverending ring;
Flowers are planted, trees deslanted;
Bears wake up to begin their hunt;
Time has come, let's have some fun!

Summer rolls in on ocean waves;
Thus begin the long, hot days;
Read some books, in the shade;
Or get a Summer Job to get paid.

Fall arrives on airborn leaves;
Down they go, pile them in heaps;
Then scattered again, by childrens' leaps.

Winter's here, let's stoke the fire;
Gather 'round the flames, play some games;
The forts are up, on my mark!
3...2...1...Start! But be back for lunch!

-----------------------------------------

These dungeons, so treacherous,
Truly, they are so dangerous.
Who would dare to traverse
upon such deadly ground?
None other than the Wanderers,
seeking to unveil a city,
a city hidden within a shroud.

This city they seek, it is one of legend
El Dorado, nestled atop Table Mountain,
Lying within the Plains of the Sun,
or so it is said, so it is told.

Those would dare,
Dare to climb such a treacherous stair.
They do not know what awaits them,
upon success,
For you see,
none have done it.
Not any single one,
has completed this task.
To ascend the heights set before them,
to pit themselves against beasts of all variety,
to fight undead, dragons, and invisible demonics.
To trespass upon the sacred Three Trials,
to attempt to best what is laid in their path.
'Tis a rough life, and understandable that none have succeeded...
Until Him.

Shiren came, he saw, he conquered.
He, and he alone,
has bested Table Mountain,
Has bypassed the Three Trials
the Trials of Dragon, Phantom and Grand Finales.
He made it to El Dorado, and discovered a city,
but not a city of gold.
He found a land in ruins, and a testament to the terror that had been laid upon it's citizens.

The city of El Dorado was attacked, attacked by a great evil from the bowels of the mountain.
An evil entity that fed upon gold and flesh alike.
A being who bound the city's benefactor, the Golden Condor...
With the Cords of Hell.
And so the tablets tell,
"Bereft the protection of the Sacred Bird,
Our sacred city was dealt a catastrophic blow.
We die now, with our city, and ask only one thing...
If you should read these words, know that you are the chosen one,
from across the three barriers.
Wanderer, hear our plea!
Set free the Golden Condor!
Only once the beast within the Waterfall Cavern has been slain
may the Cords of Hell be severed, and the Golden Condor let loose once again"

So it was prophesized, so it was done.
Shiren laid waste to the lifeforce of the Tainted Insect and it's helpers,
Severed the Cords of Hell,
and rode back to a temporary home in Canyon Hamlet on the wings of the Golden Condor.
May his praise be sung forever more.
------------------------------------


"You can take from a man his sight, and his taste, and his smell, but to take his hearing is to crush the rest in turn.

To the minds eye, a simple piece of music can bring forth the imagery of a storm-swept sea - The dark browns, greens, and patches of yellow sunlight of a forest trail - The unfathomable depths of a dark cave in the mountains...

To the nose, such tangible tunes can almost bring the tang of oranges, and of metal being forged and reshaped - The thick, choking scent of smog, issued from the chimney-like spires of a factory - And even the smell of a freshly baked meal...

To the finer senses of hearing, it can bring the soft dripping of water off a roof's gutter - The crunching of leaves - And the soft whisper of a secret told, but not repeated...

To the tips of our fingers and in-betweens of our toes, music adds the feel of a rough, uneven piece of rock - The smooth walling of a finished room - The liquid-silk feel of water with a slow current - Even the touch of a parent's lips upon our forehead, accompanied by the feeling of relief associated with hearing "Shhh, shh, it'll be alright...Calm down, and you'll be fine..."

Can you see it, now? Can you hear it? Feel it? Taste it? Smell it? If you can, then God has smiled upon you - For you now possess the gift to understand music. Applying your senses to something so intangible sounds stupid to some - But it is those without knowledge of the wonder it brings who think and scorn in such a manner. Do not let it bother you that they jeer and giggle - Let it bother you that they have yet to understand what it is like to hear, taste, see, feel, and smell such things in what is, in the end, nothing more but notes strung together."

-----------------------------

Woes of the Last Solar Child

Is it my destiny,
and mine alone,
to fight the servants of Dark,
Hater of Life,
Master of the Universe?

Why must I,
and, in the end, I alone,
defeat in battle my aunt, my father and brother?

Such a fate always seems to befall us...
Us of noble, magical, or even - on occasion - unnoteworthy lineage.
Such as me, the one with the blood of both Sun and Moon coursing through his veins, he who was infested with Vampiric blood by his tainted father, and he who wields now the history of Sun, Moon and Shadow?

I only wish to know, as I am but a child...
WHY ME?

The sadness I must live with, having purified the last of my kin in the light and heat of the Sun...and having been scalded by it, too...Actions justified, yet leaving me uneasy...
Why do I, a mere child, harbor such sadness that has crushed men more powerful than I?
Just...Why...

---------------------

A Molecrafter's Tale

I know how it was intended,
that we,
The Players,
live in a pretty house above the ground,
and pit outselves against the bowels of this blocky Earth
Only when we must.
Or perhaps we should only go
not when we must,
but when a material is missing and needed
if only for an unnecessary task.

I know that unwritten rule,
I see those who abide by it.
And I despise it.
I spite those who abide by my very existence in their world.

I live in my dark, dank tunnels.
Completely content to live out my days pondering only what my next room might break the wall, floor or ceiling of.
Happy to have my largest worry be the possibility of a stray creeper walking in that opening I couldn't quite plug up.
Overjoyed with my collection of Pickaxes and Shovels.

For I...
I am a Mole.

We moles do not break surface unless it is a need.
Do we need wood?
Yes?
Fine. I'll go up.
I'll do it.
But eventually...
We find excuses not to leave.
Trees?
Trees need sun, you say?
My three stacks of bonemeal say they don't.
You want water?
Grab a bucket, over there, third chest from the left.
Yes, there.
Now come over here and get some from that two-by-two water grid next to my crops.
See? I don't need to leave.
What, me?
Run out of bone meal?
You're joking. I found a Skeleton dungeon a week ago.
Kept the spawner going.
Easy arrows and bones.

Hah, defense?
Kid, you seen my place?
Huge.
Can't be beaten.
I can't even find my own way around, and I BUILT this...

What is it?
What name can I bestow?
I can't call it a house, for that, it is not.
I can't call it a dwelling, even, or a cave...

But it is a labyrinth.

My Labyrinthine Dwelling.
I like it.
That's what this is.
My Labyrinthine Dwelling.
Dare ye enter?

I live here, deep below the earth and yet just under the surface,
layers of tunnels crossing and crisscrossing each other.
Rooms one next to and above the other,
Treasuries side by side yet connected by ladders and stairs.

What!? They found me? No.
NO.

The place?
Unusable.
I can't live in this.
My months of hard work, gone.
Because some kid didn't like it.

Oh, I could get them back.
But it ain't worth it. I'll just rebuild...

Torch, dig, dig, dig, dig...
Torch, dig, dig, turn, dig dig, Torch...
Room, Torch, Torch, Torch, Torch, dig, dig...

And thus the routine began again.

I restarted my home, I rebuilt, I relived.
The boy tried the same approach.
He was infuriated, see.
Infuriated that I could live on and not retaliate.
He'd planned to trap me, it seems.
I'd had a heads up - He hadn't counted on that.
Obvious, see.

So now he tries the selfsame assault on my home, only I was ready.
He didn't get a heads up, because I live alone.
Nobody to tell! Ha.
Walked in, proud and arrogant, blade at the ready.
Snowball full to the face.
Arrow.
Blade.
Fall.
Death.
I won.
He tried again.
I did it again.
He gave up.
I rejoiced, and went back to digging.

This is the tale of a Molecrafter.
It is my tale, and mine alone.
Certainly, I exaggerated.
Sure, I uh..added a few things.
But tales are always more interesting like that, lad, you know it to be true.
I thank ye for listening, for listeners of mine oft leave midtelling, complaining of boredom and other such nonsense.
Bah.


-------------------------------

"I can sense my lost time;
almost like rage, but not quite.
It's got no heat, not like rage...
No shadow of heart, unlike fear.
What it has is the coldness of tears.
The grip that you feel, when in pain,
the lung-locking sting, of an acid rain."

"I lost my identity, to something.
I can feel the pieces, those emptied slates.
I can touch the parts, of memories gone,
The feel is infuriating,
it leaves me irate.
It's a cold emptiness,
A blank nonexistence,
Ravaged of all feeling,
In my own mind.
How do you cope,
with your inner eye blind?"

"The pain I have suffered,
beyond repair.
The yearning I still feel,
beyond my grasp.
The sadness,
it gnaws.
The anger,
is raw.
The fear,
so real.
And yet I?
I can hardly feel."

-----------------------------------

"I prayed, for IDOLA, during her phase of Distortion.
I cried, for IDOLA, in her form of Holiness.
Neither action was enough to save her from the Shadow of Falz.
So I battled IDOLA, the supposed Goddess of Creation...
And I won.

She returned, weeks later, to challenge me again,
With new form and new weapon.
She wielded the Divine Blade.

I defeated the one foe that should not be one of mortal life...
A goddess.
A goddess wielding the only blade to exist since Day Dawned for the first time.

It was not so easy, however,
For she also had another item of interest.
The goddess IDOLA held the Immortal Feather.
She arose in a terrible new form,
And unleashed a tirade of fury in my direction.

Beams of energy, raining from the sky...
Waves of force and light, threatening to crush...
I survived and triumphed again.

Through my trials, I have proven myself
to feel compassion for the mutilated;
to feel sorrow for those bound to Holy duties;
to be able to conquer the unconquerable;
to be able to defeat the undefeatable,
kill the unkillable,
to make mortal the immortal.

In short, I can triumph over a goddess in wit and in battle.

And yet still I must fight.
Still I must prove.
My struggle is eternal.

It is a Song for Eternal Story."

------------------------------

There...That's..everything I still have. It's half of what was. My only sorrow is that I may never be able to recover them.

I hope you enjoy these. All who read them. Perhaps sympathize with the sorrow where it may be found, and know the joy where it be described as showing.

-Galax