[Ansteorra] Story Time: Dawn's Crisp Wind

[Pukhta 'Pooky' Lovtsevich]

SET THE SCENE: {Pooky adrift, alone, in a small lifeboat somewhere on
Ansteorra's waters}

Even before dawn cast it's hellfire into my raw flesh I could tell by the
crimson color and the crisp wind, today was going to be a different day.
Usually the sun rises to test the very will of my life, as any
languishing hankered of drying flesh would be, and torments me by
pounding my desire
to the bottom of the sea, Or an even worse fate the sun does not rise;
instead it stays as
fearful as I of the DOOM that blackens the sky as the sentient beast
that cast me to this curse.

This dawn though is like no other for beyond the stench of my own
decay the air smells clean and it comes from somewhere I am not.
I new when I woke still alive, feeling the chill, seeing the color of the sky a
change to my torment would I permit this day. It would be calming, it would be
soothing, it would even refresh my very soul just to quietly role off of this
little launch and be embraced by the enveloping comfort of my mother's womb...
the sea.
I have listened to her sweet rhythmic song lapping against this dingy
throughout my entire cast of memories. She knows me all too well. When my mind
dreams of things that take my thoughts away from her my mothers voice would
scold me and repeat here pounding in my ears for days upon days. When I think of
only floating content upon her belly and touching the freckles of her sky, she
soothes me to sleep with the song of her beating heart.

If the salt of her blood was sugar, God's Love would not be as sweet.

[SSsTtttRRrrRRrEeeEEeTtttCccCChHhH]

What is it about this morning; I don't remember this morning, before?
The sky is as red as the blood that would flow from me before I became this
dried up breathing husk of a long-pig. That wind is nice though that's new. I
remember when there was a time things would change... what were they??? what'd
they become??? ahh well nothing to do but be here now {...splash splashsplash
splash splash...} FEELINGS!! yes! feeling can change! hmm Maybe that was it...
haha the wind has changed it's cool and crisp huh... this used to be a good
wind. What would it bring, where would I go??? 'We needed the wind' ... What
would it do???

"Ah Lord, you promised if I didn't think I'd keep me dry" but why did you
promise I'd want to be dry... if I think. Think think THINK! 'Yes, there is much
to do on a boat'. Orders of the day: YES! Scratch the boat/find my tooth.
where's my tooth?! Ever, busken morning it's the same thing! no... this is the
only different morning. haheyha maybe this wind took my tooth and got it wet.
[panic] NOooooooooo! Not my tooth in the wet! Cripspon!... I'll never here my
tooth again. Hear my tooth?!? Right! <--- {Digs tooth out of left ear}

"hello me toOothe, muah!" Scratch boat "What say that makes yer'
days?" | | \ | |
| | | | | | \ | | | | / / | | | | | | | / | | \ \ | \ | | / | / / | | | | | | |
/ \ \ | | | | | / / | / | | | | | | | | \ \ | | / | / | | | | | | | / | | | | |
| / \ | | | / |

Count the beats drummer " What say that makes your days!?! " ... " ....Since me
mother born me up from her sea.... " Hmm H' HmmhmmHMMmm

{softly humming as the mind wanders away from the memories of blackened gloom
and the crack of lightning beating the flesh red and wide open as
though the mind itself was
strapped to the yardarm ready for memories to rip and rend away from
it's comfortable skull}

Hmm H' HmmhmmHMMmm

"GoOod bye me toOothe see you tomorrow morn, muah. Right?" --->{Stuffs
tooth in left ear}

"From the heavens it is. IT Rained!" Orders: Drink the boat dry. A full belly
and Mothersea has no room for her sweetness in or for me by nightfall.
Rain and my rot
taste better then death this morn!

BurRrp!!!...

"I see you sky rats... My words are marked! I'll catch one of you by sun high
this day."

Dead flesh is the easiest of ways to ruse. All I must do is be as I am ... and
still ... and silent ...

I feel your shadows soar between heaven's fire and my rotting corps.
Oh come down timid sky rats... seek your high day feast, have at my eyes ...
Be brave birds of the damned. A corps can not blink and a living man must.
You see foul rats I am dead. There is no life in these eyes, have at my juicy
orbs winged goblins... Yes! brave bird... Walk right up and see if these windows
are your dinner. You approach as though the eyes of man are not an uncommon
feast, winged serpent.... Bravado from a creature of the world.

God should feel shame for giving you choice or for telling us we were the only
ones given to choose...

Closer my friend ... see what I have for you. Pluck out my eyes or be my meal.

Your play foul creature of the damned, is your piercing stab into my eye faster
then the grab of this dead man...

We seek to consume each others soft flesh... may God have mercy on us both...
...

...

...


...

YOURTONGUEISBLUE!!! (wompwomp) YOURTONGUEISBLUE!!! YOURTONGUEISBLUE!!!
YOURMISERABLE!TONGUEISBLUE!!! (WOMP) thank GOD, my eyes saw your
tongue is blue...
(gnashing ripping shredding-flesh)

MmmMmmmMmMmmm, Mothersea wholly this is a new day! but nothing has changed...
To never know anything other than the familiar is the most comforting curse.
If I awake this day and smell this fresh new wind... I will finally
let you comfort my body and my
soul in the depths of your wet pit.

"This is the life of the damned.
There is nothing but your salty brine.
Your bosoms nourish in my hand.
Your blood shall release my mind."

If this air of change be here when I wake, I shall slip this raft and kiss
your lips at the bottom of the sea...

Good night mother,... sing your boy to sleep...


~laplap~ ~wobblewobble~ ~lap~ ~wobble~


~laplap~ ~wobblewobble~ ~lap~ ~wobble~


~laplap~ ~wobblewobble~ ~lap~ ~wobble~