HOME | DD

Description
who is ready for some mediocre writing
First up is the Note, written by Queerly
Arges.

It is a soft exhale, a rumbling undertone. It is a greeting. It is Ignacio.

You are terrified, and you cannot move.

Attend me, child. You will hear my voice, and you will receive my blessing.

The god rumbles, and though his presence isn't visually distinct it is felt, as surely as the prickle climbing your spine.

His presence looks at you, and in the same instant he sees right through you, whatever walls you have built stripped bare

to expose the vulnerable soul beneath.

You have cast aside my flame, but is the fire and my heat that gives you life,

that is my great gift to you who stumbles in the darkness. My sun keeps your belly fed, and

my light shines through the ore of your veins. You will know me as I have come to know you.

You will witness the power of fire. And with it, you shall rise.

And indeed, something does burn in your chest. A twinge of pain, a give, a release - an awakening. For only a moment, your mind connects to the transmundane, and you understand the great burden of immortality. You see with clarity all that is and was and ever will be as you reach further across this vast and endless starscape, into oblivion. You blink, and the moment is gone. You can't quite recall what you knew or saw, but lingering in your breast is a warmth, the weight of a gift granted - and unwanted.

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

lol now me

Yellow eyes looked into the gemstones of the Argus statue. As he stared,
the warmth in his chest grew unbearable and made him choke.

No.

His face became a grimace as he sucked in the cold temple air,
trying to cool the burning feeling around his heart.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

No!

Once again he shouted at the statue, the desperate scream echoing through the empty temple
like a lost ghost.

He turned around and swiftly exited the temple, scorched hoof marks trailing his every step.

Slinking through the tunnels Arges hid his eyes from the few he passed.
The hissing of whispers partnered up with the burned dirt and stone beneath his hooves.
They were noticing, and they were watching him.

Arges entered the home of the family with which he lived. Nobody was home.
Hurrying to his room and locking the door, Arges found a moment to stand still.

The burning in his chest. The weight of a lingering presence he could not name on his neck.
He felt alone. More alone than ever before. The time spent in his cousin’s barn seemed comforting.

Running away from the chiding of older colts and into the wheat field seemed like a playful game of chase in a tiny box.

He opened a drawer and from the back rolled an old candle. A candle he hadn’t seen in many years.
The last place the candle had been lit was in a small family home on the surface.
It was the only thing left from the home that burned, an act he had blamed on Ignacio.

Placing the candle on the desk, he lit it with an equally old match. He stared into the tiny flame.

The longer he stared into the flame, the more gentle the heat in his chest grew.
It didn’t lick at his heart, but held and caressed it.

Arges’ eyelids drooped with this new and calming feeling. He had let himself grow bitter and to hate.

Arges took in a breath and exhaled warm air.

I hear you.

Shout-out to Queerly for some HECKIN COOL CONTENT I LOVE THIS IT'S MORE THAN I EVER DREAMED TO GET
I'm contractually obligated to reply to these with art and whatever horrid writing I can muster up.

+4 Shaded Fullbody
+2 Full Background
Total +6 AP to Arges
this piece gave me claw hand
it took a lot of hand stretches to be able to type any of this after finishing it

Description
who is ready for some mediocre writing
First up is the Note, written by Queerly
Arges.

It is a soft exhale, a rumbling undertone. It is a greeting. It is Ignacio.

You are terrified, and you cannot move.

Attend me, child. You will hear my voice, and you will receive my blessing.

The god rumbles, and though his presence isn't visually distinct it is felt, as surely as the prickle climbing your spine.

His presence looks at you, and in the same instant he sees right through you, whatever walls you have built stripped bare

to expose the vulnerable soul beneath.

You have cast aside my flame, but is the fire and my heat that gives you life,

that is my great gift to you who stumbles in the darkness. My sun keeps your belly fed, and

my light shines through the ore of your veins. You will know me as I have come to know you.

You will witness the power of fire. And with it, you shall rise.

And indeed, something does burn in your chest. A twinge of pain, a give, a release - an awakening. For only a moment, your mind connects to the transmundane, and you understand the great burden of immortality. You see with clarity all that is and was and ever will be as you reach further across this vast and endless starscape, into oblivion. You blink, and the moment is gone. You can't quite recall what you knew or saw, but lingering in your breast is a warmth, the weight of a gift granted - and unwanted.

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

lol now me

Yellow eyes looked into the gemstones of the Argus statue. As he stared,
the warmth in his chest grew unbearable and made him choke.

No.

His face became a grimace as he sucked in the cold temple air,
trying to cool the burning feeling around his heart.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

No!

Once again he shouted at the statue, the desperate scream echoing through the empty temple
like a lost ghost.

He turned around and swiftly exited the temple, scorched hoof marks trailing his every step.

Slinking through the tunnels Arges hid his eyes from the few he passed.
The hissing of whispers partnered up with the burned dirt and stone beneath his hooves.
They were noticing, and they were watching him.

Arges entered the home of the family with which he lived. Nobody was home.
Hurrying to his room and locking the door, Arges found a moment to stand still.

The burning in his chest. The weight of a lingering presence he could not name on his neck.
He felt alone. More alone than ever before. The time spent in his cousin’s barn seemed comforting.

Running away from the chiding of older colts and into the wheat field seemed like a playful game of chase in a tiny box.

He opened a drawer and from the back rolled an old candle. A candle he hadn’t seen in many years.
The last place the candle had been lit was in a small family home on the surface.
It was the only thing left from the home that burned, an act he had blamed on Ignacio.

Placing the candle on the desk, he lit it with an equally old match. He stared into the tiny flame.

The longer he stared into the flame, the more gentle the heat in his chest grew.
It didn’t lick at his heart, but held and caressed it.

Arges’ eyelids drooped with this new and calming feeling. He had let himself grow bitter and to hate.

Arges took in a breath and exhaled warm air.

I hear you.

Shout-out to Queerly for some HECKIN COOL CONTENT I LOVE THIS IT'S MORE THAN I EVER DREAMED TO GET
I'm contractually obligated to reply to these with art and whatever horrid writing I can muster up.

+4 Shaded Fullbody
+2 Full Background
Total +6 AP to Arges
this piece gave me claw hand
it took a lot of hand stretches to be able to type any of this after finishing it