Month: December 2016

Natural Tranquility

“There is peace in silence…”

Rushing water pours down on my head. It has the strength to bring any man down to their knees, but I have trained myself to endure and withstand its power. My body is unwavering and motionless as the waves slide down around me, continuing its journey to the stream below.

“Silence is nature’s remedy for stress…”

Emptiness fills my mental walls, allowing me to forget anything and everything that would normally plague my train of thought. With a clear mind, I only focus on my natural surroundings; the water crashing on my head, the boulder that I perched myself on top of, and the light breezes that blows through the forest brush.

“Stress only blocks the path to true calmness and tranquility…”

I take in a deep breath and hold it in, letting the cool all flow through my warm lungs and back out. I repeat this process over and over until my body feels lighter than air itself. I may not be able to see it, but I can feel a small smile of relaxation appearing on my face. It’s a rare occurrence that I am able to complete an entire session of meditation in complete solitude, so this is more pleasing than usual.

As I’m sitting on the boulder, I can feel that my posture is slightly off, so I take a moment to adjust the alignment in my back; my new posture makes it even easier for the water to pour around me. The simple sound of rushing water is the main thing I hear, accompanied by a few chirping birds every so often. If I choose to, I could even hear the sound of individual water droplets as they fall into the stream.

Finding the perfect state of calmness makes even the most insignificant of things seem like the key to winning an ever-lasting war. Nothing could possibly ruin this moment for me.

“Hey, Sensei!”

Damn.

Perhaps reaching this state of calmness is starting to play tricks on my senses; I could have sworn I just heard a voice other than my own. However, I decide to ignore it and continue with my meditation.

“Sensei! Sensei, I know you can hear me so just give it up!”

That squeaky, girlish voice speaks again. I can even feel a disturbance in floating around in the stream below. My mind is not deceiving me; my prodigy is calling out to me. I let out a loud sigh and open my eyes so I can get a look at her swimming around.

“What is it, young one?” I ask in a light tone.

Rich Noir of the City

Holding a small glass of whiskey on the rocks, Richard looks down at the city nightlife from his living room. He leans on the glass a bit to get a better look at the sidewalk below him.

“What determines the worth of a man? The knowledge they ascertained through life, their morals and values that shape their views and lifestyle? The items that they surround themselves with?”

Richard takes a sip from his glass and looks back into the living room. Luxurious furnishings, all of which are covered in ivory white, expensive paintings and sculptures decorate the marble tile floors, a large flat screen television set up with full entertainment station; the living room of a wealthy man.

Richard walks over to one of his couches and sits back, placing his glass on the coffee table in front of him. He puts his feet up on it and goes back to his personal discussion.

“If a man follows a code of conduct, or some kind of code of honor to go about his life, does that make them a valuable person to others? Does that increase their actual worth, how much it would cost you to obtain their services?”

Letting everything goes to his head, Richard gets a small migraine and rubs his eyes for a moment, “Damn it, I’m starting to sound like a philosophy major student.”

“Well, some people find philosophy not only to be sophisticated, but also attractive.”

A womanly voice gently speaks from behind Richard, followed by the sound of wet footsteps. When she approaches Richard from behind, she reaches over the back of the couch and wraps her water soaked arms around his neck.

“Personally, I find it boring and tiresome at time.”

“Then why do you have all of those books about Hobbes and Machiavelli in your personal study?”

“I read them to help me fall asleep sometimes. A girl does need her beauty sleep after all and what better way to fall asleep than to read about a guy rambling on about ‘human nature this’ and ‘human nature that?’”

Richard looks up and sees a blonde haired woman looking at him with a sarcastic smile on her face. Even though he’s seen her dozens of times, he always likes to take a moment to carefully look over every small detail of her peach, blemish-free face.

With a chuckle, Richard replies, “It’s hard to tell if all of that sleep is helping. You still have some bags under your eyes.”

“You ass,” the woman snares back. Although she gave an angry reaction, all she does is lightly pluck Richard on his nose and climbs over the couch, sitting next to him. “You’re lucky I care about you, or else I would have ripped you a new one.”

Snow Negotiations

“Daddy, I don’t wanna go outside.”

Shena stands right in front of the door, throwing a tantrum. She put on her winter clothes, grabbed her jacket, and was ready to leave out that door. She even sat down to put on her snow boots, and now she says she doesn’t want to go out.

I lean down on one knee so I can get down to eye level with her, “Shena, you said you wanted to go play in the snow. Now you don’t want to?”

“Nope.”

“Why don’t you want to go outside?”

“Because I don’t wanna go outside!”

But she was the one who wanted to go outside in the first place… I swear, I don’t understand this kid sometimes.

Acknowledging the situation now, I let out a sigh, drop my head forward, and gently pat my daughter on the head. I take a moment to collect my thoughts before beginning negotiations with this little girl, “We can’t have you cooped up here all day. The snow isn’t high at all and it’s fun to play it. Let’s just go out for a little while to go place, okay?”

She folds her little arms and turns her back to me, shouting out “NO!”

Time to pull out my game changer tactic.

“I’ll give you chocolate milk when we come back into the house.”

Shena instantly turns back around and gives me the most serious face her seven year old face could possibly make, “How much?”

“One mug worth.”

“Two. And I want a vanilla creme cookie to dunk with it.”

“One mug and one cookie. And I’ll throw in a few mini marshmallows in the milk.”

She squints and I squint back at her. She points at me and I point back: our negotiations are reaching its end. I slowly extend my hand out, “So? We got a deal?”

“Don’t go back on your word, ‘Mister.’”

We shake and our agreement is sealed. All that’s left is to put everything into motion and endure the snow. I unlock the front door and slowly open it, giving way to a pure white scenery on our front lawn.

Everything from the curb of the street right up to the bottom of the small three steps that lead into the house is covered in fresh, untouched snow; it looks like somebody put a new silk blanket across the world.

Shena takes a deep breath and clenches her fists, taking the first ground-breaking step into our winter wonderland. She stops for a moment and turns back to me.

“Daddy.”

“What is it?”

“I’m done playing outside. I’m ready for cocoa milk now.”

“All you did was take a step outside!”

“Yeah, my foot had fun taking that step in the snow and I’m ready to go back inside.”

She turns right back around and walks past me into the house as if nothing happened, which nothing did happen. Taking just one step outside doesn’t count as playtime. And I know how to make sure everything goes my way.

“This doesn’t count as playtime. If you sit on that couch, you won’t get any chocolate milk and cookies.”

As soon as I finish that sentence, Shena comes sprinting out of the house and jumps face first into our snowy lawn. Next thing you know, she’s making snow angels like there’s no tomorrow all across the lawn, yelling out Christmas carols and songs during the entire thing.

“JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE ALL THE WAY!”

Now that’s playtime.

Laughter fills my lungs I try to catch my breath as I watch Shena rushing her body to try and have fun just for chocolate milk. But I did say that both of us would play, so I run back into the house to grab my coat before I join her in the snow angel madness.

Sorceress of the Dead

Hiding around the corner, the last remaining sorceress could only look forward, keeping her eyes on the narrow hallway, I can’t go out like this! I’ve come so far and there’s no way I’m letting myself go out like this!

A place that was once the pinnacle of magical development and research, is now the last remaining line of defense from the infected that roam the city streets. The sorceress came to this building in search for the forbidden spell that could reverse all this, but It all seemed to be in vain; all she found throughout her search were just the bodies of once proud masters of all things mystical, now rotten corpses wandering the hallways.

The sorceress turns around and looks at the wall, running her hands along it in a frantic search, “C’mon, there has to be an invisible switch here! Hell, even a fake brick in the wall would be just fine, too!”

As her hands feel around for some kind of clue to being a fake wall, her fingers feel a faint breeze coming through from between two of the bricks. She tries to push the bricks in, and even tries to remove them, but they don’t budge.

“Come on, come on. There’s got to be something there. I can’t see it, but I know something has to be back there! In a fit of anger, she punches at the wall and takes a few steps back to get a better look of the entire wall from top to bottom. As her eyes scan the wall, something suddenly comes to thought.

“This is a magical building… What if I wasn’t suppose to see it with my natural sight…?”

She approaches the wall again and places her hand over where the breeze is coming from. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, uttering the words “Gaze of Light.” Upon opening her right eye, a small, purple aura floods out, enveloping her entire eye. Temporarily losing her natural eye sight, everything is outlined in a bright pink border. However, just on the other side of the wall, there’s a small, square shaped blue object resting on a podium.

“What is that? More importantly, how do I get it out? I don’t know any spells strong enough to blow this down.”

She knocks on the wall just to make sure it’s solid brick. She blinks and the purple aura around her eye fades. She runs through all of the spells in her mind that she can do without an issue, but none of them are really destructive in nature. At least, nothing that could make an explosion. As she’s going through her spells, a loud groaning sounds behind her.

She quickly turns around and sees the deceased corpse staggering down the hallway. All of the physical attributes that identifies a person, such as their hair and eye color, are nonexistent on the corpse; all that remains are shredded clothing and dead skin falling off as it moves.

“Damn it,” she says as she snaps her fingers. Each of her finger tips start glowing a bright blue. Shaping her fingers like a fake gun, she takes aim at the corpse, “Bang.”

As soon as she finished speaking, a flash of white lightning shoots out from her finger and hits the corpse straight in its head; it explodes upon contact.

When the corpse falls to the ground, the sorceress walks up to it and starts checking its pockets for anything useful. All she found was a wallet with a Photo I.D and a few cut out coupons. She throws it aside and kicks the corpse, “Nothing I can use.”

She looks back at the wall and can sense a strong energy coming from behind it, most likely originating from whatever is waiting behind it. She lets out a sigh and goes around the corner, “I’ll have to come back later. Maybe there’s a spell book lying around somewhere with a spell I can use to blow up this wall. Whatever is behind that wall… it must be something dangerous if it’s hidden like this.”

— via Daily Prompt: Mystical Mystical

Alex & Sam’s Daily Life – You Said Anything with A Clock

Sam still can’t grasp the concept of Daylight Saving correctly and it’s starting to effect her. Luckily, she has Alex to help her make sure everything is set right, even though it’s a simple problem. Or at least, it should be.

“Alex, I need help!”

“What is it, Sam?”

“Can you come downstairs? I’m trying to figure something out about how to set the time on one of the clocks.”

Knight in Not-So-Shiny Armor

“As you can see, I am quite the collector.”

Taking a peaceful stroll through a massive corridor, decorated with stained glass windows and finely crafted curved ceilings from one end to the other, a pair of gentlemen have a somewhat casual conversation with one another.

The elder of the two is Sir Reginald Clay, an aristocrat of the modern era. Although he is clearly the older one among the two gentlemen, his natural looks hide his true age. Around this point in a person’s life, gray streaks would be prominent in their hair, but for Sir Clay, his hair is still in its prime, shining in a honey brown tone in his normal combed back style. His skin is still a bright peach color with a few red blush spots.

As for his physical build, it rivals that of even the muscular build of fit men in their early twenties. He’s dressed in a refined and hand stitched black suit with a white button up shirt underneath; the shape of his toned arms gently show in the seams of the shirt and suit.

His voice clear and deep, he adjusts the collar of his suit as he continues talking, “I’ve spend decades in search of such a collection of armors and helms. Each one with a story of its own and how I went about acquiring it. He stops in front of a decorated armor set and looks directly at the young man following his, “When I know the whereabouts of something I want, I always find a way of obtaining it.”

Unlike Sir Clay, the young man isn’t as arrogant as his elder. Standing at Reginald Clay’s side is Cain Ashe, a young man born into a noble and wealthy family. Sporting a dark blue blazer jacket with a black undershirt, Cain fixes his jet black hair, parting it into two even sides. When he approaches the set of armor Sir Clay pointed out, Cain puts his hands in his jack pockets and focuses intently on the armor.

“Let’s see… Emblem in its chest plate, thick metal body from head to toe and a shogunate’s helm with one of the branches broken.” Cain inches just a bit closer to get a look behind the armor, “It’s katana is sheathed on its back and seems to be just under five feet in length from hilt to tip. This is an elite guard’s armor during the Edo period of Japan.”

Sir Clay puts on a surprised look, keeping his eye on Cain, “I’m impressed. You were able to figure that out just from getting a glimpse at it.”

“When I was home-schooled, I asked my tutor to give me extra lesson in Asian history. I’ve always had an interest in Edo Japanese warfare.”

“I take it your tutor had a lot of different images of armors and plates?”

“Too many that I’ve lost count. But seeing it with my own two eyes, it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. It’s amazing!”

Sensing the amazement from young Cain, a big grin slowly creeps up on Sir Clay’s face, “I bet you’ve never seen such an a vast panoply of armor sets from various time periods? I’m honored.”