[Jun]

:: REPOSITORY ::

Whatever naming dreams and Totoma naming stories I've actually bothered to do over the years
(spoiler: other than the Totoma names, they're pretty much all from the first few years),
in chronological order of making (and then subsequently posting) them.

This thread is pretty much just here so I can link to dreams/stories from my actual Kin journal,
so please go there instead of here, 'cos a lot of these are really old and embarrassing. Q_Q

how the heart bends :: Kin Journal with in-depth RP information

[Jun]

night pushes: the centre cannot hold -
he sleeps where the sky fell in, it leaves nothing;
wide wings torn, leaving nothing.

[Jun]

each step leaves frost: she
walks, always; frost like ashes
on the distant moon.

[Jun]

she slips into the swamp with saddened eyes,
but she is not sad.

[Jun]

In the oysterpearl moon,
Where the Motherfather shakes, and swells
The night with shining sons,
Then, satisfied, reclines resplendent,
To watch them rise, beneath
The cloak of fireflies She blesses
Their first founderings with,
Cranes circle, owls whisper warning as
They fumble towards birth.

Soft stumbled steps, then - run:
In two, always, hence always apart;
She strikes the way, black-rent,
Away from lights, her trail shadow-path'd
Through thorns, through tearing teeth,
Towards tenebrous depths. Blind, into
The murk of choking earth
She toils; ceaselessly, she leads them both
In utter dark, to death.

And why not fly to death?
Dark is a way and light is a place:
I struggle, shadow-sheathed,
And always he shines, beaming solace.
We end our long voyage,
I dream, in a place of light: one heart
In the Swamp's bright embrace;
Fight no more through night, no more apart -
But dark is a long way.

[Jun]

going once
going twice

going
going

gone.

[Jun]

White feathers fall as you move, ever-falling.
They vanish just before they touch the ground - or perhaps merely melt into the down that already covers all as far as your eye can see.
Plume-rings - each contracting circle made of those smaller than the last, infallibly. They make it hard to move, but you move, always.

Until you draw near the centre, where the feathers are smallest, the light brightest. There she sits, all white, save for where she isn't.

"Are you," her voice lilts, but is curiously detached, blinding blue eyes fixing you, ever-falling, "my trouble?"

[Jun]

[Jun]

"He loves me, she loves me not,
she loves me, he loves me not,
he loves me, she - oh, blast!"

The heavy crash of waves against the bluff perfectly accompanies the kick and stamp, the stem of the denuded flower splintered viciously into the ground.

"It's all so silly, anyway...
It's all so silly, anyway! There is so much more to think about - so much more to do;
so much out there, so much to see, to taste, hear, touch -
I'll get out there -
I'll leave the sea - the infinite vista awaits, exotic, exciting, alive to my eager step, the  dense, spongy give of dark moss, the wet slap of dead leaves, the solid tap of wizened mangrove roots; the rapt, tireless tenacity of sucking mud, the sweet, steady serenity of cool, still lakes -
The nameless flowers, the fruits, that I will name, and taste, some delightful, that I will laugh, and taste again, again, until it is vanished and I will start on another, some bitter, that I will twist my tongue, and scrape it against rough bark until the memory fades; some yet that I will regret, stumbling, tumbling, till fever dreams have run their course and I find sweet fruit again -
The nameless creatures that I will name, that will run, startled and in fear, from me, that I must run, swiftly and in fright, from; that will perhaps instead turn backwards thrice, steal to my hoof, cautious and curious, till temptation overcomes and it rounds my sure limb, plucking daintily the morsel proffered from my lip and evermore become a companion, sure-limbed, beside me -
The songs, the stories, the songs that I will learn - all the stories, the songs, till I reach the ones that do not yet exist, and then they will, for I will sing them, tell them, sing them; all shall know these joys, and also the sorrows, for there will be sorrows, but I will tell them, sing them, that they shall know the sorrows and revel in the joys, sing them, tell them, dance them, sing them - all!"

- and munches up the plucked petals in a dazzling show of defiance.

Below, the waves continue to break, a blazing sun scattering diamonds across an endless sea. Seabirds call, wheeling across the open sky; stranger birds call beyond them, behind them. Surveying all that is familiar and home, vibrating finely with an illimitable energy, the kimeti asks: "So, what now?"

"So, let's go!" the kimeti replied.

[Jun]

round the branches winds the vine,
wraps, unwinds, and then re-winds:
'neath the vine, she waits alone
time after time; he never comes.

[Jun]

[Jun]

In the beginning there was nothing
And then there was black.
In the black there were...voices.
Many voices. All voices.
All voices, at once,
and that - was chaos.
Black could not abide -
coalesced, pinpointed into form;
light flooded space, and in the light -
more forms. Many forms. All forms.
All forms, at once, all their voices.
All forms, all voices, in all spaces.
Black heaved: an onyx hoof,
a shot from the dark - green tore
through dark, through light, all spaces;
that thunder stamp: the call to quiet.
All voices hushed.
Black paused, single-hooved.
Silence pleased; enough?
But it was not yet complete.
A hoof, alternate: to cue the queue.
That stamp burned flame.
Blazed - through green, through light,
all spaces, burned eyes into black,
and rang: the most terrible sound -
no sound at all.
All forms fell, as one, in line,
and that - was order.
The black, shot green, burned flame,
now hooved, now eyed, thus rooted,
smiled.
"You - the first: state your case."

[Jun]

[Jun]

[Jun]