Fallen Honor
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Re: Fallen Honor
The First thing that he picked up upon was the silence as they marched down the road. The long and painful echoing silence that seemed to want to swallow them all alive. It was the most obvious silence, hollow made by the lack of things. For if their was cheering for the Empress or even yelling protest the clamoring voices would of filled the void. If the grey skies opened above them then the rain would come and drown the silence in a sea of drip, drop, drip drop. But of course their was no rain, if a wind had stirred it would brush the trees and make the branches sway making the old oaks creak in protest but not even a gust was present to take the silence away with it down the Gold Road and into the distance. If any of these things had existed then well the silence would have been lifted but their were none of those things.
The Silence had other functions other pieces to its puzzle that were harder to detect more subtle compared to the vast emptiness and loneliness that composed that major part of the silence. If you listened for a while you might start to slowly feel the signs of it's shadowy presence you could feel it in the eyes and hearts of the watchers. You could maybe catch it laughing and ghosting away from your reach in the flashes of the cold dead metal. It was present in the hard set faces of the guards of the empress and in the Empresses curt waving motion. It was alive in the air and loomed, like a faint whisper or a distant memory.
And this silence though silent and shy was the overbearing one it was the one that hung upon him the most, like a sack that he had to burden the weight nonexistent but still there. It was as endless and vast as the open sea, it was as heavy as the guilt of a murderer, it was patient and it haunted him never less. He was the prey and it was the hunter in a never ending chase.
The man was stuck atop his horse in this never unyielding sea of silence, attuned to it and bothered by how it seemed to never be able to leave him. He was of a slender build and slight frame the smallest of the bunch and the youngest as well though his gaunt and appearance would suggest otherwise. His hair was white, white as the fresh winter snow falling to his eyes shaggy and untamed yet at the same time having an odd uniform like order to it. His eyes dark and distant some would describe them to that as haunted as if they were searching for something hundreds of miles away in the distance. It was as if something was absent, not the overwhelming rage of an angry man or the firestorm that brought but a sad knowing that something is not right that something was not present.
The party was moving along slowly at a speed at which moss might begin to grow on them. The silence roaring around them as the stares of hundreds looked back at them from behind the steel barricades. They generated their own silence as well an uneasy silence one that would be akin to a hurt animal snapping against anyone and anything, it was as sharp enough to cut through flesh, it flowed and smashed against the other like the waves crashing against the shore. He closed his eyes trying best not to be roped into the silence to not accept it, to try and not be swallowed by it, his lone candle in the darkness of a raging windstorm trying to stay alight.
The Silence had other functions other pieces to its puzzle that were harder to detect more subtle compared to the vast emptiness and loneliness that composed that major part of the silence. If you listened for a while you might start to slowly feel the signs of it's shadowy presence you could feel it in the eyes and hearts of the watchers. You could maybe catch it laughing and ghosting away from your reach in the flashes of the cold dead metal. It was present in the hard set faces of the guards of the empress and in the Empresses curt waving motion. It was alive in the air and loomed, like a faint whisper or a distant memory.
And this silence though silent and shy was the overbearing one it was the one that hung upon him the most, like a sack that he had to burden the weight nonexistent but still there. It was as endless and vast as the open sea, it was as heavy as the guilt of a murderer, it was patient and it haunted him never less. He was the prey and it was the hunter in a never ending chase.
The man was stuck atop his horse in this never unyielding sea of silence, attuned to it and bothered by how it seemed to never be able to leave him. He was of a slender build and slight frame the smallest of the bunch and the youngest as well though his gaunt and appearance would suggest otherwise. His hair was white, white as the fresh winter snow falling to his eyes shaggy and untamed yet at the same time having an odd uniform like order to it. His eyes dark and distant some would describe them to that as haunted as if they were searching for something hundreds of miles away in the distance. It was as if something was absent, not the overwhelming rage of an angry man or the firestorm that brought but a sad knowing that something is not right that something was not present.
The party was moving along slowly at a speed at which moss might begin to grow on them. The silence roaring around them as the stares of hundreds looked back at them from behind the steel barricades. They generated their own silence as well an uneasy silence one that would be akin to a hurt animal snapping against anyone and anything, it was as sharp enough to cut through flesh, it flowed and smashed against the other like the waves crashing against the shore. He closed his eyes trying best not to be roped into the silence to not accept it, to try and not be swallowed by it, his lone candle in the darkness of a raging windstorm trying to stay alight.
Zero ~change of soul~- The New Kid
- Posts : 3
Join date : 2013-04-08
Location : Getting Shot
Re: Fallen Honor
A new sound was added into the silence one that was and odd contrast to the solemn and cut throat silence. It was not rough like the beating drum nor was it as emotionless as a cold winter breeze. It was as light as the songs of the summer birds, the warmth of an open flame, the seductive welcoming of the warm summer sun, and the soft embrace of the first spring breeze.
It was a rare old sound that was as elusive, that would very much as well come out and give you a glimpse before retreating back into the mist laughing as you are left stumbling after it tripping its wake. Tis was the mountain tune of a time long past, a old ballad that song of lonesome peasants, burning villages, grand calls to adventure, large battles of the age gentlemen and heroes ones filled with glory and excitement, love and romance and daring deeds of bravery and heroic sacrifices and all the lot.
It was all very chipper and upbeat and stood out even more do to the fact that instead of the traditional haunting baritone that accompanied such a tune it was instead being whistled. In a light airy tone that seemed to playfully dance across the wind teasing and welcoming.
This odd sound was coming from another one of the men on the horses, another one of the odd four man band that was in charge of the safety of the empress. His black hair cut shorter then that of his more serious and younger companion. His face showed signs of age, lines and scars and dark brown eyes that when they looked at you, they just seemed to be able to pick you apart and put you back together in the order he wanted, and a look of a man that could pull of the warmest and most sincere smile ever while telling you that he just butchered your entire family.
As the procession continued they marched the whistling melody followed and accompanied as an eerily fucked up soundtrack, not going along with the procession at all. It instead contrasted and was discontinuous, it felt wrong and twisted. It was a kin to having the background track of the preschooler being Rap music. But it happened and nobody was crazy enough to ask the man to stop and so the whistling continued.
It was a rare old sound that was as elusive, that would very much as well come out and give you a glimpse before retreating back into the mist laughing as you are left stumbling after it tripping its wake. Tis was the mountain tune of a time long past, a old ballad that song of lonesome peasants, burning villages, grand calls to adventure, large battles of the age gentlemen and heroes ones filled with glory and excitement, love and romance and daring deeds of bravery and heroic sacrifices and all the lot.
It was all very chipper and upbeat and stood out even more do to the fact that instead of the traditional haunting baritone that accompanied such a tune it was instead being whistled. In a light airy tone that seemed to playfully dance across the wind teasing and welcoming.
This odd sound was coming from another one of the men on the horses, another one of the odd four man band that was in charge of the safety of the empress. His black hair cut shorter then that of his more serious and younger companion. His face showed signs of age, lines and scars and dark brown eyes that when they looked at you, they just seemed to be able to pick you apart and put you back together in the order he wanted, and a look of a man that could pull of the warmest and most sincere smile ever while telling you that he just butchered your entire family.
As the procession continued they marched the whistling melody followed and accompanied as an eerily fucked up soundtrack, not going along with the procession at all. It instead contrasted and was discontinuous, it felt wrong and twisted. It was a kin to having the background track of the preschooler being Rap music. But it happened and nobody was crazy enough to ask the man to stop and so the whistling continued.
Anpuu- The New Kid
- Posts : 4
Join date : 2013-04-08
Location : LAND OF TAILRAPE!
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