Uploaded on July 19, 2009
Feminists who get upset when women don’t identify as feminists:
madchangeling said: Im sorry =__=
(~No no, it’s fine. I just hate wondering on the what ifs, and then I don’t wanna bother you about a reply. I know it comes when you feel it’s best.. both for mun and muse. Just lately, especially with all this stress in real life, I don’t want to hold off on something that won’t be done. I don’t want to stay up late at night hoping for a reply even though I know it’ll be rare. I push myself to hope too much.
It’s just things I need to vent and deal with. It’s just an issue I have.
So, don’t be sorry.)
(~I feel weird because part of me wants to drop certain RPs that aren’t active anymore and I don’t want to lose interest.. but it just feels like it’ll never get done. @__@ )
i can not and will not be the only one to think that this abandoned clown train looks like a final boss in a video game
//This is one of the best things I’ve ever seen, oh my goddddd.
All The Right Moves // OneRepublic
The light flickered beneath her hands like a faint flame of a candle that was trying desperately to die. It dimmed, shined bright again for a second moments later, only to dim again. It was almost as if something was preventing the light from shining brighter. Or worse…trying to snuff it out. However this only lasted for a breath or two. With a little extra coaxing the light shined brightly, as if it were good as new. A moment of triumph.
But with a loud bang the light exploded violently, sending sparks and glass and metal in all directions. The explosion of the one bulb set off a brilliant display of explosions within the area. Every light within eyesight of the one stubborn bulb exploded with it with vivid displays of sparks and electricity.
As the dark of the night swallowed the block, a chorus of laughter crept forth. No source seemed to be in sight…at least not one. Dozens…no maybe even hundreds of laughing mouths jeered from dark crevices all around. A mocking symphony at her attempts…but now more so at her helplessness.
If the laughter alone wasn’t enough to send chills down the spine of the bravest of men, what revealed itself next could stop hearts mid beat.
Twisted faces were staring forth from every dark corner. Faces twisted in an endless look of crazed agony that stared out with blank, dead eyes. They writhed and reached out from the dark with limbs made of living shadow, either in a sinister coveting for the poor girl, or perhaps a plea to end whatever pain the creatures much be enduring. It wasn’t clear, as their spindly hands and fingers were just as twisted in agony as their grotesque and deformed faces.
But a new laugh joined in the chorus. A louder, deep laugh echoed from the dark. It circled, never staying in one spot for long, creeping closer and closer until the breath of the owner of the voice might have even brushed against her skin. But no breath was there. Only a cold that chilled the very soul.
A single word, so simple, held enough of a sinister air to it from an obvious ill intent to immediately abandon any hope of the simple question to harbor any hope for aid.
Clearly, this was all his game, and she was now caught right in the middle of it now.
The blonde paused, her brow lowering as she tried to keep the light up. Each time that it seemed to fight back, she pushed harder. The dimming began to make her mad, which made is more difficult since she didn’t understand why the streetlight was doing so. It wasn’t until the noise of the first crack that she stopped dead in her tracks. Her hands raised up just as the bulb exploded. She attempted to cover her face, only to feel a slight sting of glass brush her upper cheek. Hissing, she forced herself to float feet away from the light. An index finger reached over, feeling bubbles of blood reach the surface of the small cut. The smell of iron rushed into her nose. She huffed, shaking her head in confusion. This wasn’t her doing. Couldn’t be.
From the corner of her eyes, she could see the other lights fade and falter to nothing. Raising her arms, she lowered herself to the ground and kept moving. Small steps, but something. Anything. She did not like this. Darkness that was coming as such made her stomach turn. Butterflies were sent up from her stomach to throat with the sounds that came from the shadows. Her thumbs and index fingers rubbed together, another bit of light forming in her hands. These were kept close, hugged against her palm. They kept the shine ranging down and around her body and feet. It brought some comfort, but not enough as the faces from the shadow began to come forth. Wretched things, like ones only told in scary stories, peered out. She found herself unintentionally moving backwards to the wooden pole that had scattered, broken glass along the concrete. Her boots scuffed against the sounds of glass, and that was easily ignored with the newer sound. Everything was too unexpected. Back and forth, her eyes followed the sounds and tried to lock on. Every time she seemed to find it, it moved.
Lowering her hands, she expected the ones in the shadows to move closer. Instead, she felt a brush of something colder than ice touch her. It ran through her body. Goosebumps rose to her arms and down her back. Instead of constantly trying to find the source, she stopped. The position her body held kept the stance if she need to attack or move, but her eyes stayed fixed on the darkness in front of her. It didn’t matter where the main voice came from. Panicking was not good. She knew better than this. Her breaths tried to fix as she breathed through her mouth. She didn’t want to deal with the smell of iron going to her stomach and making the situation worse. Her eyes widened.
The one word said from the strange voice made her stop in mid breath, catching up quickly with the next. What crap. She was being toyed with. Then again, the darkness made her feel this way. The only remaining hope on her side was the light she could create. It was the same hope that would keep it lasting. It held the same brightness. In the same, her bright light would create shadows around her. She was too focused on everything in front of her that she forgot her backside. It didn’t strike up a concern in her mind, but with the creatures in front of her… Did it matter?
Estelle decided to, finally, speak. Her voice was still soft, yet shaken. Like the nightmare around her hit too close without knowing. As if she had lost herself in what was going on. Too sudden. Not normal. Something she was never warned about. “And what does it matter to you if I was?” She questioned, swallowing immediately afterwards.