|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Cracks in the Crystal BallCracks in a Crystal Ball.
The tubes running to and fro across her son's face as he lay limply on the seemingly oversize hotel bed distantly reminded her of the cracks in a crystal ball. It was ironic really, as the cause of the extended hospital stay had been a eerily swirling gas- much like what one always imagined to fill the inside of a crystal ball. His breathing was shallow, but at least it was steady. The first hours after the ambulance team found him had been touch and go as he periodically stopped breathing. They had later determined that it was because of the damage that the poisonous gas had already caused within his lungs- collapsing some cells as they exploded while utterly burning out others at the same time.
No one knew where the gas had originated from, or who had made it, but she could not make herself care right now. Her young son had now missed nearly a week's worth of school, and still had not woken from the induced coma, nor could he be r
Clock SmithClock Smith
It was only a matter of time, they insisted on telling him after each visit to his comatose daughter. It had been two weeks since the grandfather clock had fallen from it's shelf and knocked her to the floor, leaving her in a state of unconsciousness. Despite all that they said, he knew that he had not imagined their whisperings behind his back, blaming him for not being careful enough; and in the process, only adding to the layers of guilt that he, as a father already had heaped onto himself.
While his wife took over his job at the clock shop, he remained at home, watching over his only daughter with a diligent perseverance, if only to prevent himself from thinking about the incident. He could not return to the shop. To do so- to return to the work that he had once loved, would be to stir up the memories and the guilt that nearly crushed him when he allowed himself to think of it. Days passed, and the broken- nearly shattered- grandfather clock was
The Rat CatcherThe rat catcher. It was all he had ever been, and all that he ever planned to be. It was more t hen just a name for him though, he personified the title- he knew rats, where they they lived, and he understood their perspective of life. He knew the dirt, the smell of dirty air, and the sound of the busy streets. He knew when it was safe to be out, and when it was not- just as the rats and rodents of the streets did. He knew which streets where safe. He knew which faces were friendly, and which ones where to avoid at the cost of his life. He, the rat catcher, would always be the rat catcher, even when the tides of change slowly ebbed away from the facts of history and closer to the myths and dreams of legends instead. He would be there, humbly pointed a finger to redirect the sightseer's attention back the times they had turned their backs on.
Perfect RoadThe road was lined with low underbrush and strong trees in the summer, the air laced with the heady scents of unseen flowers. In the autumn, the forest was quiet, the crisp leaves crunching underfoot and whispering in the still warm breeze. In the winter, all fell into a deep slumber, and only the pine branches murmured in the cold wind. It was never a bitter, painful cold, but cold enough to be clear that it was indeed winter. Only the occasional bird could be heard in the distance, and all else was still. This is the path that lurks in the depths of my mind- sometimes in the back, and more often then not, vying for my immediate attention. And you wonder why I have a hard time staying in the 'right' century when adventure, full length dresses and my own characters linger so close?
Monetary FoolsMonetary Fools
I'm sorry that I ever doubted you. I'm sorry that I underestimated your intelligence. I'm sorry that it came down to this being my fault. Sorry never cuts it though, does it? I'm sorry that it had to be that way. I never should have laughed at your ships- pieces of shipwrecked junk that they appeared to be. That was my first mistake. The second was calling you a fool because of it. Now, I really wonder- how much *did* you spend on them? They certainly proved themselves to be more then what they appeared, that's for sure. I know this, and I know it was that that undermined us. We underestimated you because of their outwardly appearance, and we fell for the trap that you so cleverly created for us. You lured us into a sense of safety, and I felt no need to be worried- just as you wanted. It was my fault that we were unprepared for the attacks on the planet. A piece of floating space junk didn't seem all that harmless, nor did any of the t
Trouble Falls Around YouTrouble Falls Around You
"All seems to be normal," Thristal said, reading through the scanner's assessment of the latest scan.
"Aside from the fact that he hasn't woken yet," Gravor said dryly. "Neither he nor Zimot, for that matter."
Like so many other times, Caravi had left on a private mission, leaving the majority of the team behind to be his home-base as he fondly refereed to them. For once, they had managed to convince Caravi to take someone along. After a surprisingly short conversation- a questionably short one at that in hindsight- Caravi had folded, and agreed to take Zimot along. He had said that Zimot could use the opportunity to engross himself in another language, but something had seemed off with that statement. It was not one of the usual offers that Caravi made for one thing, and for another.. well, it mattered little now. Both were back, albeit deeply unaware of their surroundings.
"Why, Caravi?" Thristal murmured, brushing a finger across the ancient being
A Little Too LateA Little Too Late
Caravi, in his anger and frustration, seethed. Flinging various objects and pieces of furniture across the room simply wasn't enough. The torrential amount of emotions that were welling up in his breast would not be contained. He had been too late. It was not just that he had been too late, but that he had been a little too late. A matter of minutes. It was something that he could have prevented, simply by changing one little element over a century ago. Why was it that when the greatest events were on the line, they were always not on the continuum? There was no way that he could go back in time and change it. Not even the slightest bit. That thought set him off again, as he felt the volcano inside him heave and explode yet again, sending him hurtling against the walls once more. An entire solar system- populated with some of the most hospitable and innocent citizens to this day had been blown to smithereens, and locked forevermore outside of the
Only for Today"Only For Today"
"It's just for today, I swear." Caravi said distractedly, his back to them as he threw the last of his oddly shaped weapons and supplies into a haphazard pile near the bag he had just found. It was a convenient thing, he thought, that they could not see his face. They would have known in an instant that his words were a complete lie. There would be no returning from this war, unless a miracle happened; something he had no hope of trusting in. Miracles simply didn't happen any more. Not when he needed them the most- that was for sure. There was, of course, no need for the team to know that he'd not be returning. Caravi was certain of that. If they knew, there was a good chance that they would not let him go, or even worse, insist on coming along. They had to remain, unknowing, until it was over- that way there was someone who knew what to do when he did not return. It was the only way for the plan to really succeed in his absence.
"You're sure of that?" Zimot
Far Beyond, GoneIt took all that they had, just to tear their gazes away from the now-black screens. A sense of profound shock filled the communications room as the after-images of the planet's death and the maelstrom of destruction lingered. There was no way that anyone or any creature could have survived that blast, and no way to contact anyone on the fringes who might have survived. All communication methods were completely- and apparently, irrevocably- down. The visuals had been the last to go, and in some ways, that had made it even worse. Caravi had long been out of reach- just as he had hinted- but to see the explosion, as he had seen his own death, that was something entirely different. No one dared to say anything, and no one made a move to leave- as if they would somehow, miraculously suddenly regain inter-stellar communication. It was a fact that no one could bring themselves to admit. Caravi, and the entirety of the Avarkeen solar system were as good as gone; completely blown out of space
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More