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CERAMIC D.M. (not the current one, a year old)
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<blockquote data-quote="Sniktch" data-source="post: 847390" data-attributes="member: 7704"><p><strong>Sniktch vs Speaker, rd 1</strong></p><p></p><p>“Winter’s Breath”</p><p></p><p>Cold, so cold. Numb, can’t move, just laying here, sinking deeper... sweet darkness... warm now, so warm...</p><p></p><p>It is morning; I am laughing. The horses snort and stamp their hooves impatiently, but it is morning and I am enjoying Svetlana’s company too much to be rushed. She says something else; I do not hear the words but I can tell by her tone that she is telling another joke, so I laugh again. Then the horses are ready and we are mounted and riding through the gate...</p><p></p><p>It is spring in Irkutsk. Thus, it is freezing, still weeks away from the brief summer thaw. But it is a good day to ride, to feel the icy wind whip through your hair, to have the sun overhead and the promise of warmer days ahead. We go to see the great bears; they are awake again and their mating rituals are in full swing. The horses sense our excitement and prance across the snowy fields, churning up a cloud of swirling frost in our wake. </p><p></p><p>The world flashes and spins before my eyes, moving forward in a blur of images... we are walking now, the horses left behind... the bears are ahead. I stop, awestruck. (pic 2) Two majestic males rear on hind legs, locked in an embrace, twisting, pulling, swatting and raking with their claws, their jaws fastened to one another’s throats. The female sits in the background, watching. The two rivals dance beautifully and gracefully for her, circling round and round, but neither is able to gain the upper hand.</p><p></p><p>They take too long. Svetlana laughs and points, calling my attention to a newcomer, another male who sneaks in craftily while the fight continues. He finds the female agreeable to his advances, bored by the long fight, and soon the pair wander off together. Eventually the wrestlers notice and stop, looking around in confusion for the object of their affection. Finding her gone, they take a last couple of half-hearted swipes at each other before slinking away dejectedly.</p><p></p><p>We cannot help it; we laugh and laugh at the defeated suitors. I turn to murmur a clever remark and freeze. Svetlana is there, the sun reflecting off of her armor and hair, a crooked little smile on her lips (pic 1). The air is strangely distorted behind her; I see strange, ominous shapes moving behind her and flashing colors, colors like I have never seen, and then a bright, blinding light...</p><p></p><p>I open my mouth to scream, but I hear nothing. Svetlana seems frozen, but a dark change seems to come over her. The color drains from her face and hair and her armor grows dull and pitted, no longer reflecting the sun. I try to turn and stagger away but I am falling, falling into the snow, wracked with pain, unable to move, slowly feeling the cold creep over me...</p><p></p><p>I wake without a sound, relief flooding me; it was a dream. Then I look around - I am lying in snow in brush beneath a tree, my armor rimed with frost. I feel numb; the only feeling left is the stiffness of my joints. I sit up and look through a gap in the brush (pic 4); stretched before me is a breathtaking landscape of forest, still buried beneath ice and snow, and shrouded in mist. I feel nothing as I take in the view; it was not a dream. And somehow I know where I must go, what I must do...</p><p></p><p>The horses are gone when I return to the place we left them. It is a long journey by foot but I trudge steadily toward my goal. The feeling does not return, and I grow neither weary nor footsore nor hungry. I march right through the change of seasons, and the snow and ice give way to greenery and an explosion of wildflowers. I wonder at my strength, for surely many days have passed and I have not rested nor eaten since my journey began, but then I shrug and continue walking. I am close; I can feel it...</p><p></p><p>I am standing before a great old palace with towering archways and columns. It looks abandoned now, falling into disrepair, the stone weathered and cracked and the flowers and vines growing rampant on the building and the grounds. (pic 3) I see her, down in front of the building, as if waiting. She is wearing a sable gown with a hood, woven with an elaborate design of white ruffles and lace. A silver crown rests upon her brow, and it looks like she is wearing a mask - it must be a mask. </p><p></p><p>It does not matter - I know her. And as I approach, I can see from her reaction that she knows me. I stop very close to her and call out, “Fiend! I will destroy us all before I let you have her!” My voice is cracked and broken from misuse and my words are slurred..</p><p></p><p>She replies mockingly, confidently, “And what can you hope to do about it? Look at yourself; you are already dead. Lie down and accept it.”</p><p></p><p>I start to reply angrily but then stop, suddenly frightened. I look down at my arms, my hands; sweet Lord, she is right - the flesh is rotted and falling away, the bone shows through. As the truth slowly dawns upon me I start to feel myself slip away; a light begins to grow in the distance. I look back up and she is laughing silently and pointing at me.</p><p></p><p>My momentary fear melts away, replaced by rage. I lunge forward, surprising her with my quickness, grasping her around the throat and squeezing, bearing her down to the floor, all my will, all my being focused on one crushing desire before the light takes me away...</p><p>Now I know everything. And nothing.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sniktch, post: 847390, member: 7704"] [b]Sniktch vs Speaker, rd 1[/b] “Winter’s Breath” Cold, so cold. Numb, can’t move, just laying here, sinking deeper... sweet darkness... warm now, so warm... It is morning; I am laughing. The horses snort and stamp their hooves impatiently, but it is morning and I am enjoying Svetlana’s company too much to be rushed. She says something else; I do not hear the words but I can tell by her tone that she is telling another joke, so I laugh again. Then the horses are ready and we are mounted and riding through the gate... It is spring in Irkutsk. Thus, it is freezing, still weeks away from the brief summer thaw. But it is a good day to ride, to feel the icy wind whip through your hair, to have the sun overhead and the promise of warmer days ahead. We go to see the great bears; they are awake again and their mating rituals are in full swing. The horses sense our excitement and prance across the snowy fields, churning up a cloud of swirling frost in our wake. The world flashes and spins before my eyes, moving forward in a blur of images... we are walking now, the horses left behind... the bears are ahead. I stop, awestruck. (pic 2) Two majestic males rear on hind legs, locked in an embrace, twisting, pulling, swatting and raking with their claws, their jaws fastened to one another’s throats. The female sits in the background, watching. The two rivals dance beautifully and gracefully for her, circling round and round, but neither is able to gain the upper hand. They take too long. Svetlana laughs and points, calling my attention to a newcomer, another male who sneaks in craftily while the fight continues. He finds the female agreeable to his advances, bored by the long fight, and soon the pair wander off together. Eventually the wrestlers notice and stop, looking around in confusion for the object of their affection. Finding her gone, they take a last couple of half-hearted swipes at each other before slinking away dejectedly. We cannot help it; we laugh and laugh at the defeated suitors. I turn to murmur a clever remark and freeze. Svetlana is there, the sun reflecting off of her armor and hair, a crooked little smile on her lips (pic 1). The air is strangely distorted behind her; I see strange, ominous shapes moving behind her and flashing colors, colors like I have never seen, and then a bright, blinding light... I open my mouth to scream, but I hear nothing. Svetlana seems frozen, but a dark change seems to come over her. The color drains from her face and hair and her armor grows dull and pitted, no longer reflecting the sun. I try to turn and stagger away but I am falling, falling into the snow, wracked with pain, unable to move, slowly feeling the cold creep over me... I wake without a sound, relief flooding me; it was a dream. Then I look around - I am lying in snow in brush beneath a tree, my armor rimed with frost. I feel numb; the only feeling left is the stiffness of my joints. I sit up and look through a gap in the brush (pic 4); stretched before me is a breathtaking landscape of forest, still buried beneath ice and snow, and shrouded in mist. I feel nothing as I take in the view; it was not a dream. And somehow I know where I must go, what I must do... The horses are gone when I return to the place we left them. It is a long journey by foot but I trudge steadily toward my goal. The feeling does not return, and I grow neither weary nor footsore nor hungry. I march right through the change of seasons, and the snow and ice give way to greenery and an explosion of wildflowers. I wonder at my strength, for surely many days have passed and I have not rested nor eaten since my journey began, but then I shrug and continue walking. I am close; I can feel it... I am standing before a great old palace with towering archways and columns. It looks abandoned now, falling into disrepair, the stone weathered and cracked and the flowers and vines growing rampant on the building and the grounds. (pic 3) I see her, down in front of the building, as if waiting. She is wearing a sable gown with a hood, woven with an elaborate design of white ruffles and lace. A silver crown rests upon her brow, and it looks like she is wearing a mask - it must be a mask. It does not matter - I know her. And as I approach, I can see from her reaction that she knows me. I stop very close to her and call out, “Fiend! I will destroy us all before I let you have her!” My voice is cracked and broken from misuse and my words are slurred.. She replies mockingly, confidently, “And what can you hope to do about it? Look at yourself; you are already dead. Lie down and accept it.” I start to reply angrily but then stop, suddenly frightened. I look down at my arms, my hands; sweet Lord, she is right - the flesh is rotted and falling away, the bone shows through. As the truth slowly dawns upon me I start to feel myself slip away; a light begins to grow in the distance. I look back up and she is laughing silently and pointing at me. My momentary fear melts away, replaced by rage. I lunge forward, surprising her with my quickness, grasping her around the throat and squeezing, bearing her down to the floor, all my will, all my being focused on one crushing desire before the light takes me away... Now I know everything. And nothing. [/QUOTE]
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