scripturientoctopus

[scripturientoctopus]

Alone

I can no longer remember when the humans left us. I suppose it’s wrong to say the humans left, a brave few souls remained behind to set us to our task. I simply do not count them. It would only be a week longer before they boarded their sleek shuttle and abandoned us to the waste just as the others did. I know that it is not my place to criticise the ones responsible for my life.

If only I could forget the truth.

The best I can do is try and dull my inner machinations with my daily drudgery. I gather my pack after drinking down my morning NutriSack. The viscous liquid is tasteless as always. Daisy meets me at the Nest’s thick steel door, smiling as though we were heading out on an adventure, rather than scrapping. At the very least, her brightness drags my mind from darker thoughts.

We head through the door with a group of hunters. This time tonight they'll return here with arms and bags full of whatever life they managed to find and snuff out. The trophies would be decontaminated and broken down to be put in NutriSacks, or to knit together another of my siblings. It is good to know that despite our sterility, we are still a renewable resource.

The familiar hiss of the decontamination chamber ruffles my hair before we get in the elevator up to the surface. The doors groan open to a blinding white sun. The world takes form beyond the glaring light, a pitted waste of scrub grass and sand. Daisy and I set out to the west, following the sun.

It isn’t what I was built for. I was meant to maintain the Nest’s systems, not scrap old machines. A week ago that changed, when the main computer system went down without warning. Suddenly those few humans left were cut off from their friends orbiting in their ship, the Arc. They did not say they were afraid but the fear was there like blood in the water as the sharks closed in.

Thus, it was left to me to go scrap old machines for the parts needed to repair the system.

I have to rest not long after setting out. Unlike Daisy, made of muscle and a head taller than myself, I was not made for physical exertion. As we sit, Daisy points to the clouds and chatters about what they look like to her. I smile and study the lines of her face. Absentmindedly, I rub the tattoo on my wrist. E-1925. The E designates me as an engineer model, designed to run the Nest’s computers and machines once we are left to our own devices. Now in my mind it meant Electra. Watching Daisy, I remember the day we rested in the shade of a rare tree and named one another.

~

“Why'd you suppose we don’t have names?”

“Too complicated”

She rolls on her side and grins at me through the grass.

“We should pick names, I want to be able to call you something besides E”

I sigh but roll to face her regardless.

“Let’s hear it then, what do you think I should be called?”

She squints at me, thinking hard before her face brightens and she grins her radiant grin.

“Electra! Because, like, you work with computers and stuff which are electric and umm… it's pretty! And you’re pretty!”

I flop back on my back and laugh.

“Alright, alright, that's a good one. Let’s see… what’s your name?”

I study her face as she waits in anticipation. D-1582. Defense model, built to be sturdy and strong, to look out for the fragile models like myself. Brown hair, brown eyes. Just like every other D model. Tiny freckles, the smallest flaw in her genetic coding. I remember the day we found a perfect white flower. After all the wars and fallout and the floods it was a miracle to find such softness. She had touched its petals so gently, a tear running down her cheek. I wanted so badly to reach out and connect the points of her freckles, a miraculous constellation.

“Daisy. You’re Daisy”

~

“Whatcha thinking about so hard over there?”

“Oh, just thinking about what I need to bring back today”

In truth, the team of humans at the Nest should be able to repair the system with what they have. Still, they want more parts “just in case”. They are so very afraid. I almost feel sorry for them. If only I knew less. Curiosity killed the cat.

As we begin our walk again, I wonder again if I should tell her. Warn her. But what good would it do? Why should I disturb her peace?

I shouldn’t have done it. I was not made to be curious.

I was just supposed to update the main computer. It was a simple task, almost insultingly so. So, my mind began to wander and so did my eyes.

I found a picture of our creator and his team. The man who designed me in khaki pants and a checked shirt, a small stain on his tie. He squints through round glasses. He is off in orbit now, safely on the Arc with all those rich enough or famous enough or lucky enough to be chosen for salvation. I feel... Something.

I found the listing of every Synthetic in operation. Twenty of each model. Perfectly split male and female. Though that is a farce. We were only given gender to comfort our human companions.

Then I went deeper. The plans for re-entry. Lifetimes from now. A throwaway line.

“Terminate all Synthetics 5 days prior to arrival”

The same injectors in our sleep pods that jolt us awake in the morning, full of such a softly killing chemical.

I think I am angry.

I can’t tell her. Maybe one day. Maybe. We have all the time in the world.

I collect only a few parts, pulling apart old computers in burned out ruins of houses. Daisy scans the horizon for any threats but as usual, we are alone here. As we walk back to the Nest, the sun dipping low behind us, I quietly begin to hate our creators. How dare they stitch us together just to leave us on a deserted planet? To clean up the mess they left behind? Then to throw us away because we have never been more than tools.

But there is nothing to be done. In a week’s time we will be left here, to scramble in the poisoned soil and try to build something from the scraps. Something not meant for us.

I will return home, eat my tasteless food and sleep in the pod that one day will be my tomb. That is all.

I want to take Daisy’s hand and tell her so many things but I cannot.

We return home to silence. It is not unexpected. Not every Synth is active today and most will still be out until dark. There is something in the air though that I cannot place. We are both instantly on edge.

Daisy walks slightly in front of me as we check the area. Nothing seems out of place, the pods still full of sleeping Synths, Machinery still humming in the background. So we make our way to the human’s quarters and command center.

We find the command center empty, the computer on and functional once again. I look through the open files on the screen.

There is a series of communications from the Arc. They begin with updates on supply levels and some instructions. Then it all goes wrong. Engine one is down. The water pod has a leak. The heat is gone. It’s so very cold.

God Help Us.

Somewhere in reading the messages I have begun to shake.

“What is it? What happened?” Daisy asks, distraught.

“They’re… they’re gone. The Arc is gone.” I stumble back from the monitor, trying to process. Daisy stares in shock before realization lights her face.

“The humans! Where are they?”

We scramble to their quarters, Daisy forcing the door open.

It’s too late.

You could almost mistake it for sleeping if they were not so very, terribly still. Daisy leans her head against the door frame, choking out a sob. I pick my way inside and find the syringes of the same chemical they planned to use on us. All empty. I spend a moment crouched in the middle of the room, breath heaving, shivering.

I walk back to the doorway slowly. We really are alone now.

I take Daisy’s hand as the tears start to run down my face.

[scripturientoctopus]

What Is And Never Should Have Been

There was a time of magic and wonder, long ago, but that time has long died. It did not disappear at once, but in violent fits and slow creeping blights of malice. In the last time of magic, true magic, there was a hunter. Our story is not about him, it is about the mistake he made.

Our hunter was a strong man, a brave one some would claim. He was born a nobody to a family of nobodies in a nothing town. The quiet stagnation of this home tugged at his edges and chafed against his more adventurous spirit, his more intense temper. His youth was spent in a long daze of identical afternoons, learning all the deadly arts he could. First it was a battle for sustenance, waiting patiently in the underbrush to suddenly burst into a flurry of action, deadly graceful as he felled any creature with a reasonable amount of meat on its bones.

Then he began to fixate on stories. Every traveler and old man had one to tell. Some tale of a wily fae, vicious dragon, lingering spirit. They all shared the same sense of concealed fear, which always seemed justified by the stories. Of course such beings, so strange and powerful, could be nothing but enemies.

The hunter took up stranger weapons and set upon a new quest. He pursued these remaining artifacts of a perishing time with a fervor he had contained since birth, for now he had a purpose. One after another fell under his blade, flame, arrow. It gained him fame and fortune but the only satisfaction for him came from these his violent delights.

Then began his fall, if he had ever been anything but fallen.

There was a whisper, spoken in slight glances and nervous shifting feet. Something old, something from the beginning of things. In the forest primeval there was a witch or a demon or an angel who had always been. A quixotic beast, willing to grant wishes to those who pleased it and was pleased to tear apart those who insulted it. These tempestuous whispers buried themselves in the hunter’s mind, pulling him toward his fate.

The day promised storm, the air thick and heavy, sky close. All was awaiting a release.

The hunter prepared himself and stepped into the woods as he had so many times before. He did not fear, though its absence did not mean he was confident either. There was no space for nerves or bravado under the boring sense of purpose.

It was a full half day before he reached the ancient elm. It stood defiant in a clearing of dead leaves. Its trunk was gnarled and black, twisting up toward the sun.

Then there was her. He started ever so slightly. He had not expected her to come to him. She was so unremarkable. Perfectly human looking save for the solid, shining midnight blue of her eyes.

She smiled as he drew his bow.

“Lower your weapon, child. You know not what you do”

He did not respond.

“I am of the first life, to kill me would be to commit a sin beyond anything else you have known.”

She tilted her head at the hunter and he shivered as her eyes dragged over him.

“Why have you made yourself into this? You hunt your beasts filled with a hate you see as light. You are… rotting. I suppose that is only right for one who ends life”

He did not think or feel as he let the arrow fly.

She grinned a smile wider than should be possible as it sunk into her heart. As she died, he felt the change.

The forest shuddered. The very earth trembled. Something very important had just been broken. This was a twist in fate and nothing would be right again. Within his chest he felt a tug. He knew without knowing that the small tug would grow, it would consume him and make him the monster he truly was meant to be.

The sky broke open and thick drops of red tumbled down, a terrible mourning.

[scripturientoctopus]

Random mansion generator

The Procgen Mansion Generator produces large three-dee dwellings to toy with your imagination, offering various architectural styles and other options. Each mansion even comes with floorplans:

https://boingboing.net/2019/07/12/random-mansion-generator.html

[scripturientoctopus]

Quick Tips on Writing Horror

Learn the body language of fear.

Consider the thoughts your character would go through when something horrible goes down.

You want what happens to be terrifying, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be horrible. What I mean by that is you can have a scene that’s scary, but in that scene, no one dies or gets hurt.

Give your readers a break from horror every now and then. This should go for every genre, and a great way to do it is by making sub-plots.

Make it realistic. Even if it’s about the zombie apocalypse, or something that can’t actually happen. The supernatural has it’s own set of rules, and you need to ensure that the story isn’t so far-fetched that it makes no sense.

Don’t add anything for shock value. Readers notice when you’re trying to be edgy.

Give your character something to lose. Gore and violence aren’t as terrifying to read as knowing your character can lose everything they love at any moment.

Get the reader invested in the character.

You want the reader to have questions, but don’t want them to be confused. So don’t reveal everything too soon, but don’t reveal too little. This will help add suspense

Learn how humans react in terrifying situations

Consider having your character think and act irrationally

And if you really wanna have fun, consider having your character slowly descend into madness

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i’m looking for more writing mutuals! i’m interested in mainly fantasy & poetry (but if i like your writing genre doesn’t really matter) so reblog this (onto your writing blog & tag where you follow from) if you’re following me & i’ll check you out! i’m not really following many writers and want to remedy that in 2019.

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would you be okay with drawings based on your stories? (specifically the dark haired woman in yesterday) if not, I understand

Hell yeah! That would be amazing!

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Yesterday

Yesterday I was alive

Yesterday I woke to my alarm at 8:00 and was unhappy. I rolled reluctantly from a warm bed. I had a small breakfast (one egg, toast and an apple), dressed and left for work.

Yesterday I sat at a desk and did my job until the sun was sinking below the horizon and the whole world was stained in red. I wandered out into the fall chill and wandered toward home.

Yesterday I found myself on a street that wasn’t there

Yesterday the route I walked everyday ceased to exist. I found myself walking a shadowy road edged by boarded up shops with dark empty windows like staring eyes. Tendrils of that deep red light from a dying sun still snaked out from between the buildings that stood like broken teeth. The wind stirred the fallen leaves and they rustled across the street with a soft whisper.

Yesterday the road that should not have been ended abruptly at a small park. Barren oak trees stood skeletal with burned black trunks. The last light of the day caught in the branches.

Yesterday I walked into this park, leaves crackling underfoot, knowing I should turn back. The sound of my footsteps and the gentle wind were the only sounds. Until they were not.

Yesterday I heard a song that was too beautiful to exist

Yesterday I found woman sitting on the edge of a fountain at the heart of the impossible woods, eyes closed and head back, singing a song that wrapped around the edges of my mind. Her pale skin was tinged blue in the cold and her dark hair was falling from its bun.

Yesterday she stopped in her song and opened her eyes, dark and fathomless.

Yesterday she smiled at me.

Yesterday she walked over to me and placed her hands on my face. They were frigid.

Yesterday I felt my breath leave my body and heart stop as I stared into kind and empty eyes.

Yesterday my life was ended as that sweet refrain echoed in the falling dark.

Today never arrived.

[scripturientoctopus]

Demure

I am not this thing, soft and simpering, that you seem to believe me to be. For all your efforts, I will never be the pretty, silken decoration you desire. You have brought me to this place bowed heads and social climbers but I will never belong here among such fragile people.

Although there are times when I will plant flowers and tend them with a gentle hand. Though there will be times when I will speak softly for the benefit of those around me. Though I will find occasions on which sunsets and ribbons and kindness will suit me just fine.

There will come a time when when flowers will rot. When silence will no longer be acceptable. When sunsets are more fire than beauty, ribbons fray and kindness becomes bitter.

When this time comes you will remember that nightshade is the sweetest of berries.

For it is easy to forget in my softer moments that I still have teeth and claws. I forgive but never forget. That all my rage simmers as acid in my bones. When the world does begin to fall apart you will find that I do not. I will remain, knife in hand waiting at the end of it all. If you care to step in my way, you will find none of the softness you believe yourself entitled to. This is my warning to you, dear one. You would do well to heed my words.

[scripturientoctopus]

Remember?

Oh summer days do put me in a nostalgic mindset. Hazy and warm, it is hard not to feel as though I'm slipping back in time sitting here. 

There are some things though that would be best forgotten.

Do you remember that day?

It was a day not so long ago and yet it seems like we were all quite a bit younger then. You, me and your brother. We thought we were unstoppable, kings of our small town. Honestly, we were little terrors. We could never stay out of trouble. 

When the kids started to go missing, we weren’t scared. We should have been.

The townsfolk decided that it was something in the woods, a wolf or some other hungry creature. They said they found bones. We only saw this as an adventure.

Your brother had the idea. We would go into the woods and find the wolf. We could find the children and rescue them. We would be heroes. 

Do you remember that?

We gathered our supplies (flashlights, water and sticks we liked to think were swords) and ventured into the woods at the edge of town.

We wandered far deeper than we had ever been before. The light faded and we guided ourselves by our flashlights, which barely made a dent in the darkness. 

There was a rotting tree in the heart of the forest. A deep pit was open beneath it, gaping open like a mouth ready to devour us. We felt fear then. But we were all too proud to show it. Your brother dared us to go in. We hesitated. He did not.

You went in after him and I followed quickly behind. 

Please tell me you remember.

Remember the way the roots dripped from the ceiling of the damp cavern, trailing like fingers. Remember the heat and dampness of the place. Remember the quiet whisper of a voice half forgotten. 

I need you, at least, to remember.

The way your brother stood, transfixed by the pale glow of the light emanating from the dark recesses of the cavern. The roots that held the remnants of the children we had so foolishly come to rescue. How your brother wandered, dreamlike, to the light. The scream. 

You tried to run after him. You too found yourself transfixed by the glow. I pulled you away, kicking and screaming. 

Come on, no else remembers and I need to know it was real.

How could you forget?

The children returned. It was impossible but when I told them what I saw, how these were not their children, they were different, empty and strange, they said I had lost my mind. 

Please, remember.

I cannot bear the memory alone.

[scripturientoctopus]

Ambient sounds for writers

Find the right place to write your novel… 

Nature

Arctic ocean

Blizzard in village

Blizzard in pine forest

Blizzard from cave

Blizzard in road

Beach

Cave

Ocean storm

Ocean rocks with rain

River campfire

Forest in the morning

Forest at night

Forest creek

Rainforest creek

Rain on roof window

Rain on tarp tent

Rain on metal roof

Rain on window

Rain on pool

Rain on car at night

Seaside storm

Swamp at night

Sandstorm

Thunderstorm

Underwater

Wasteland

Winter creek

Winter wind

Winter wind in forest

Howling wind

Places

Barn with rain

Coffee shop

Restaurant with costumers

Restaurant with few costumers

Factory

Highway

Garden

Garden with pond and waterfall

Fireplace in log living room

Office 

Call center

Street market

Study room from victorian house with rain

Trailer with rain

Tent with rain

Jacuzzi with rain

Temple

Temple in afternoon

Server room

Fishing dock

Windmill

War

Fictional places

Chloe’s room (Life is Strange)

Blackwell dorm (Life is Strange)

Two Whales Diner (Life is Strange)

Star Wars apartment (Star Wars)

Star Wars penthouse (Star Wars)

Tatooine (Star Wars)

Coruscant with rain (Star Wars)

Yoda’s hut with rain ( Star Wars)

Luke’s home (Star Wars)

Death Star hangar (Star wars)

Blade Runner city (Blade Runner)

Askaban prison (Harry Potter)

Hogwarts library with rain (Harry Potter)

Ravenclaw tower (Harry Potter)

Hufflepuff common room (Harry Potter)

Slytherin common room (Harry Potter)

Gryffindor common room (Harry Potter)

Hagrid’s hut (Harry Potter)

Hobbit-hole house (The Hobbit)

Diamond City (Fallout 4)

Cloud City beach (Bioshock)

Founding Fathers Garden (Bioshock)

Things

Dishwasher

Washing machine

Fireplace

Transportation

Boat engine room

Cruising boat

Train ride

Train ride in the rain

Train station

Plane trip

Private jet cabin

Airplane cabin

Airport lobby

First class jet

Sailboat

Submarine

Historical

Fireplace in medieval tavern

Medieval town

Medieval docks

Medieval city

Pirate ship in tropical port

Ship on rough sea

Ship cabin

Ship sleeping quarter

Titanic first class dining room

Old west saloon

Sci-fi

Spaceship bedroom

Space station

Cyberpunk tearoom

Cyberpunk street with rain

Futuristic server room

Futuristic apartment with typing

Futuristic rooftop garden 

Steampunk balcony rain

Post-apocalyptic

Harbor with rain

City with rain

City ruins turned swamp

Rusty sewers

Train station

Lighthouse

Horror

Haunted mansion

Haunted road to tavern

Halloween

Stormy night

Asylum

Creepy forest

Cornfield

World

New York

Paris

Paris bistro

Tokyo street

Chinese hotel lobby

Asian street at nightfall

Asian night market

Cantonese restaurant

Coffee shop in Japan

Coffee shop in Paris

Coffee shop in Korea

British library

Trips, rides and walkings

Trondheim - Bodø

Amsterdam - Brussels

Glasgow - Edinburgh

Oxford - Marylebone

Seoul - Busan

Gangneung - Yeongju

Hiroshima

Tokyo metro

Osaka - Kyoto

Osaka - Kobe

London

São Paulo

Seoul

Tokyo

Bangkok

Ho Chi Minh (Saigon)

Alps

New York

Hong Kong

Taipei

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i need more writeblrs to follow!

hey! if you write about:

- sci fi - fantasy - writing tips  - writing prompts - literally anything writing related please reblog!

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Symbolism

I thought I might not be the only writer out there who likes to put symbolism in their stories so I found some things and what they represent!!

Animals

Alligator - stealth, survival

Ant - diligence, industry, community, remarkable strength, hard working, success, patience

Antelope - action

Armadillo - boundaries, self protection

Badger - aggressiveness, passion and drive

Bat - rebirth, longevity, joy, good luck

Bear - gentle strength, dreaming, introspection, power, protection

Beaver - builder, accomplishing goals

Bee - divine messenger, love, service, gathering, community

Bird - enlightenment, perspective, swiftness, vision, prophetic knowledge

Boar - nature-based wealth, prosperity, success, protection, courage

Buffalo - prayer, abundance, survival needs met, good fortune, healing

Bulls’ horns - a good symbol in meditation for motivation

Butterfly - rebirth, the soul, transformation, the three phases of life

Cat - feminine energy, mystical power, used to keep the wearer safe in travel, wholeness

Chameleons - ever-changing future, inconsistency

Cheetah - speed, focus

Cougar - power, swiftness, balance

Cows - red cows are a symbol of hope, inspiring symbol for nurturing efforts

Coyote - trickster

Crane - longevity. A pair of cranes symbolizes “Long Marriage”

Cricket - good luck charm, singing, Spring, fertility

Crow - sacred law, gateway to supernatural, shape shifting, illusion

Deer - graceful gentleness, sensitivity, compassion, kindness

Dog - companionship, health, service, loyalty, protection, future prosperity

Dolphin - manna, joy, childlike play, helpfulness, breath of life, harmony, intelligence, self connection

Donkey - fertility, easy childbirth, efficiency, health, well-being, and luck

Dove - peace, innocence, fidelity, love, gentleness, kindnes

Dragonfly - good fortune, magic, vision, dreams, luck, and ancient knowledge, illusion

Dragon - wisdom due to long lives and potent magic, royalty, Emperor, eternity, courage, strength, rain, Spring

Eagle - courage, spirit, bravery, strength

Elephant - commitment, strength, astuteness

Elk - stamina, pride, power, majesty

Fish - miracles, providence, sea/water magic, good luck and prosperity, foresight, fortune, salmon in particular, are associated with knowledge

Fox - camouflage, adaptability, integration, tricksters, shape shifters, and possessors of great magic

Frog - healing, cleansing, messages, health, honesty, fluidity, purification

Gazelle - awareness

Giraffe - grounded vision

Goat - tenacity, diligence, can help to achieve goals, endure criticism, and stay safe. Goat’s fur or foot - an anti-evil talisman.

Goose - safe return, love of home

Grasshopper - nobility, prosperity

Hawk - nessenger, strength, foresight, truth

Hippopotamus - emotional depths

Horses - power, stamina, speed, transportation and communication - A black horse with a white marking on its forehead is lucky

Hummingbird - joy, pure love, celebration of life

Ladybug - delight, trust

Lamb - filial piety (dutiful respect or regard for parents).

Lion (baby) cubs - inspire mercy and gentleness.

Lion (grown) - inspire strength, courage

Lions - pride, nobility, cunning, courage, just laws, fairness, the sun, images can protect sacred ground.

Lizard - dreaming, foresight, ancient secrets

Lynx - secrets

Monkey - benevolence, drives away evil

Moose - self-esteem, assertiveness

Mountain Lion - wisdom, leadership

Mouse - frugality, rebirth, scrutiny

Opossum - strategy, diversion

Otter - medicine (woman), balanced feminine energy

Owl - deception, wisdom, clairvoyance, magic

Ox - evil spirits that disturb lakes, rivers, and seas

Peacock - wholeness, dignity, beauty, recognition, self assurance, pride

Pig - rebirth and rejuvenation

Porcupine - innocence

Rabbit - fear, fertility, moon magic, speed, swiftness, longevity, courage, strength

Raccoon - dexterity, disguise

Raven - magic

Robin - growth, renewal

Rooster - courageous, warlike disposition, warmth and life of the Universe

Scorpion - the “fire within” that often needs careful tending

Seal - inner voice

Sheep - sacrifice

Snake - cunning, evil, supernatural power

Spider - destiny, fate, weaving

Squirrel - gathering

Swan - grace

Tiger - courage, bravery, fierceness, strength, being in the now

Turtle - mother earth

Weasel - stealth

Whale - record keeper

Wolf - teacher, A Guide to the Sacred

Zebra - Individuality

PLANTS

Aloe- Healing, protection, affection

Amaryllis- Pride

Anemone- Forsaken

Angelica- Inspiration

Apple blossom- Preference

Arborvitae- Unchanging friendship

Aster- Symbol of Love, Daintiness

Basil- Good wishes

Bay- Glory

Begonia- Beware

Bittersweet- Truth

Black-eyed Susan- Justice

Bluebell- Humility, kindness

Candytuft- Indifference

Red carnation- My Heart Aches, admiration

- White carnation- Innocence, pure love, women’s good luck gift

- Pink carnation- I’ll never forget you

- Yellow carnation- Disdain, disappointment, rejection

Chamomile- Patience

Chives- Usefulness

Chrysanthemum- Cheerfulness

Clover, white- Think of me

Coreopsis- Always cheerful

Coriander- Hidden worth

Crocus- spring, Youthful gladness

Cumin- Fidelity

Cyclamen- Resignation and good-bye

Daffodil- Regard

Daisy- Innocence, hope

Dill- Powerful against evil

Edelweiss- Courage, devotion

Fennel- Flattery

Fern- Sincerity

Forget-me-not- True love memories

Gardenia- Secret love

Geranium- oak-leavedTrue friendship

Gladiolus- Remembrance

Goldenrod- Encouragement, good fortune

Heliotrope- Eternal love

Holly- Hope

Hollyhock- Ambition

Honeysuckle- Bonds of love

Horehound- Health

Hyacinth- Games and sport, playfulness, rashness

– Blue Hyacinth- Constancy of love

– Purple Hyacinth- Sorrow, forgiveness, regret

– Yellow Hyacinth- Jealousy

– White Hyacinth- Loveliness, prayers for someone

Hydrangea- Gratitude for being understood; frigidity and heartlessness

Hyssop- Sacrifice, cleanliness

Iris- A message

Ivy- Friendship, continuity

Jasmine- white- Sweet love

Lady’s-mantle- Comforting

Lavender- Devotion, virtue

Lemon balm- Sympathy

Lilac- Joy of youth

Lily, calla- Beauty

Lily, day- Chinese emblem for mother

Lily-of-the-valley- Sweetness, purity

Lotus Flower- Purity, enlightenment, self-regeneration, and rebirth

Magnolia- Love of nature

Marjoram- Joy and happiness

Mint- Virtue

Morning glory- Affection

Myrtle- Good luck and love in a marriage

Nasturtium- Patriotism

Oak- Strength

Oregano- Substance

Pansy- Thoughts

Parsley- Festivity

Peony- Bashful, happy life

Pine- Humility

Poppy, red- Consolation

Rhododendron- Danger, flee

Rose, red- Love, I love you.

Rose, dark crimson- Mourning

Rose, pink- Happiness

Rose, white- Purity, heavenly, I’m worthy of you

Rose, yellow- Jealousy, decrease of love

Rosemary- Remembrance

Rue- Grace, clear vision

Sage- Wisdom, immortality

Salvia, blue- I think of you

Salvia, red- Forever mine

Savory Spice-  interest

Sorrel- Affection

Southernwood- Constancy, jest

Sunflower- Adoration

Sweet pea- Pleasures

Sweet William- Gallantry

Sweet woodruff- Humility

Tansy- Hostile thoughts

Tarragon- Lasting interest

Thyme- Courage, strength

Tulip, red- Passion, declaration of love

Tulip, yellow- Sunshine in your smile

Valerian- Readiness

Violet- Loyalty, devotion, faithfulness, modesty

Wallflower- Faithfulness in adversity

Willow- Sadness

Yarrow- Everlasting love

Zinnia- Thoughts of absent friends

Color

Red: Excitement, energy, passion, love, desire, speed, strength, power, heat, aggression, danger, fire, blood, war, violence, all things intense and passionate, sincerity, happiness (Only in Japan)

Pink: love and romance, caring, tenderness, acceptance and calm.

Beige and ivory: symbolize unification. 

Ivory: symbolizes quiet and pleasantness. 

Beige: calm and simplicity.

Yellow: signifies joy, happiness, betrayal, optimism, idealism, imagination, hope, sunshine, summer, gold, philosophy, dishonesty, cowardice, jealousy, covetousness, deceit, illness, hazard and friendship.

Dark Blue: Symbolizes integrity, knowledge, power, and seriousness.

Blue: Peace, tranquility, cold, calm, stability, harmony, unity, trust, truth, confidence, conservatism, security, cleanliness, order, loyalty, sky, water, technology, depression, appetite suppressant.

Turquoise: calm. 

Teal: sophistication. 

Aquamarine: symbolizes water. 

Lighter turquoise: a feminine appeal.

Purple: Royalty, nobility, spirituality, ceremony, mysterious, transformation, wisdom, enlightenment, cruelty, honor, arrogance, mourning, temperance.

Lavender: femininity, grace and elegance.

Orange: Energy, balance, enthusiasm, warmth, vibrant, expansive, flamboyant, demanding of attention.

Green: Nature, environment, healthy, good luck, renewal, youth, spring, generosity, fertility, jealousy, service, inexperience, envy, misfortune, vigor.

Brown: Earth, stability, hearth, home, outdoors, reliability, comfort, endurance, simplicity, and comfort.

Gray: Security, reliability, intelligence, staid, modesty, dignity, maturity, solid, conservative, practical, old age, sadness, boring. Silver symbolizes calm.

White: Reverence, purity, birth, simplicity, cleanliness, peace, humility, precision, innocence, youth, winter, snow, good, sterility, marriage (Western cultures), death (Eastern cultures), cold, clinical.

Black: Power, sexuality, sophistication, formality, elegance, wealth, mystery, fear, evil, unhappiness, depth, style, sadness, remorse, anger, anonymity, underground, good technical color, mourning, death (Western cultures), austerity, detachment.

[scripturientoctopus]

A glass of wine, blood stains on the table, a knife lodged in the wall. Unwind time.

It was the most beautiful kind of disaster. Such artful destruction.

First there was the rain. The storm was calm and the rain was frigid and fell in soft sheets. I always thought the Estate was lovely in the dark and rain. 

Then there were the guests. They were all dressed to impress and rich enough to be foolish. The emerged from shiny black cars huddled beneath umbrellas as though they feared they would melt in the rain. Soft and altogether far to confident. 

After that there were smiles, handshakes and hugs. All disingenuous. My guests were not pleased with me, I was a mere curiosity. The recluse with the ancient home and enough money to buy ten more just like it. Well maybe not just like it.

Curiosity killed the cat.

The final prop in this play was the dinner. The dining room was lit with candles. The long table was shining and laden with food. The dishes were white and gold and crystal. My guests took their seats and the night began. The last night.

8:07 pm

Conversation is polite and the meal is delicately eaten. They are waiting to discover why they had been invited out of the blue. They will never truly understand. 

The candles are snuffed out.

Three knocks.

It has begun.

8:09 pm

I step away from the table in the confusion. I slide open the panel in the wall. This home has hidden halls and doors. I didn’t understand why when I first came here but now I know all too well. My four guests are in a panic. I can only be a spectator now. 

8:12 pm

They have relit a few candles. They call my name. They split up to search for me. Wrong move.

8:15 pm 

I watch the dark haired man still in the dining room. He is unbothered by all this and sips wine, reclining in his chair. He will be first. They like the bold ones. 

He is shoved and topples from his chair. His glass of wine shatters and the wood floor and spreads in a deep red stain. 

There is a mirthless laugh. Even after all these years I cannot suppress a shiver at the sound. 

The man grabs a knife. It will not save him. He demands to know who is there. What may be a more pertinent question. He hurls the knife at the shadow figure on the wall. Useless. 

I brace for the coming horror. 

The man’s face is scared. 

The man’s face begins to S P L I T the muscle and bone and skin cleanly parting with an awful wet sound. He crumples as another cold laugh fills the room. He twitches as gore drains from his ruined skull onto the floor.

8:20 pm

The green eyed girl is in the bedroom. She is nervous. 

Footsteps. She is frozen. 

Whispers. She tries to call out but no sound comes from her mouth.

She has tears on her cheeks. She is shaking. 

Her pretty face goes blank. She is still. 

She opens the window. The rain continues to fall in dense sheets. She climbs onto the ledge. Her red dress billows in the wind. Her black hair is is quickly plastered to her face. She takes a step. For just a moment it looks as though she is flying, angelic. Then she plummets. It is a graceful thing. 

8:24 pm

The young man is in the kitchen. He is quietly terrified. 

The door closes behind him. He startles and goes to pull at the handle. It does not move. 

He backs away. 

He is breathing too quickly. There is no escape. I should know.

Shadowy fingers trail across his shoulders. He is close to passing out, eyes wild and scared. 

He begins to run toward the door when he begins to peel open. 

He steps quite cleanly right out of his skin. 

He lives. He is screaming. Bone chilling doesn’t even come close to describing it. There is blood. He is muscle and bone and so much blood. 

The screams die as he does. His skin is in a pile beside him. The floor is wet.

8:30 pm

The last one. The woman with the black dress. She is in the parlor.

She is not scared. Even though she should be. 

Shadows dance. They are joyful. 

She holds her single candle and takes a breath. She refuses to be afraid.

The first thing is a scratch. Angry red lines on her arm. She presses a hand to it. 

It is fast and violent. 

Ripping and scratching and tearing.

Bits and pieces fly. 

It is chaos. 

Not a single surface was spared the new decor. 

She is everywhere. 

8:32 pm

I emerge. The voices are quiet, no longer demanding to be fed. The last whisper echoes.

You have done your part. You may be at peace. You may have your payment.

Peace. Unlikely.

I feel the vitality flow through my body. I have gained another lifetime of years. It does not matter anymore. 

The clock starts again. 

The next massacre waits.

Time unravels.

[scripturientoctopus]

No, friend who knows better than to ask this of me, I will not share my poetry on the internet. It is trash and deserves to be treated as such.

[scripturientoctopus]

I no longer have three straight characters. They have become the gay.

I have exactly three (3) straight characters. This is my life now.

[scripturientoctopus]

This house is a decaying beauty. It is buried here in the heart of the woods, inexplicable and grand. The ivy creeps along its crumbling facade and moss clings to its base. It towers over you, a monument hidden in shadow, outlined by the fading evening light. A house like this is most certainly abandoned, is it not?

Come closer

You cross the rotting threshold and into the entryway. There is a chill in the air and the shadows seem to have lives of their own, flittering wildly across the walls and floors. The remnants of a chandelier hang above you, majestic even in its decay. Walking as though dreaming or spellbound, you delve deeper into the mansion.

Closer

You walk past a dining room, table still set and covered and cobwebs. You can almost see the feast it once held. Your mouth waters. You step on into another hall and come to a bedroom, the bed made and sprouting a carpet of delicate purple flowers. It looks inviting. You almost feel the brush of a hand against your cheek. Your eyes are heavy. You continue on.

Even closer

A ballroom. The most enchanting place yet. A tree is growing through the floor. You can hear the ghostly strains of a waltz, lingering on the air like threads dangling from and old dress. You hear laughter, like distant bells. The brush of skirts against floor and the tap of feet on wood seems so close. You can nearly see the pale figures sliding elegantly along, eternal and full of grace. This room speaks to the longing in your chest, the desire for the unknown made real. You feel as though you could step out and join the dance, stay forever. It is full dark now, the moon hidden. You should turn back. You move forward.

Almost

As if beckoned on by a voice known only to you, you wander down creaking steps. A basement. You think you should be frightened but you are beyond that now. There is a large pit in the floor here. Vines run from its edges and out in all directions, like veins. There is water in the pool, or you believe it’s water. It shimmers and pulses a deep crimson. You are transfixed. The pull you feel is near physical. You kneel by the pool and as if on the word of a divine voice in your mind you reach out to touch it and...

There you are

[scripturientoctopus]

Acrophilla

Sitting on a ledge as though it were just a couch

My chest aches from the racing of my heart but I don’t retreat

The height clears my foggy mind and untangles my thoughts

I almost wish it wouldn’t

It’s never wise for me to hear my mind this loudly

Twisted and rotting and full of lies

I know I can never trust it

I know it but don’t feel it

My heart still believes every lie it has been told

I love this height and its clarity

But it brings with it the desire i always run from

To feel the wind rush past me

To feel the tug in the pit of my stomach

It would be like those dreams

Where I flew on gold wings

Free and joyful

For just a moment at least