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The Hummingbird

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The Hummingbird last won the day on April 28 2018

The Hummingbird had the most liked content!

About The Hummingbird

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    Penguin Overlord

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    Writing, drawing, reading, sleeping
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    Expert Charcoal Wielder, Conte Crayon Adept, Surveyor of Acrylics

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  1. Wing is the first anime I ever watched. Despite many flaws, it has always maintained a special place in my heart. I don't think Heero fits the Gary Stu bill. Just because he has certain abilities doesn't make him one. The anime never really gets into how he is what he is, though; it's mostly left to the conclusions and imagination of the viewer. Same with Trowa.
  2. With a jaunty step, Balith led Iris down a hallway lit with a dim, blue light. There were doors, many of them, one after the other on each side in deep mahogany wood. They were all engraved with intricate designs – birds, flowers, trees, and mythical beasts – along with alternating numbers and letters. There was no sound to be heard as Balith led Iris deeper into the hall like a well-trained dog. Once in a while, he would look behind him and smile at her charmingly, his eyes sparkling happily… hungrily. After less than five minutes of leisurely walking, Balith stopped before a door. 12B, it said, with a phoenix curving in and out the number and letter. Reaching into his fine silk coat, Balith retrieved a black card and slid it into a slot located on the phoenix’s throat. It slipped in easily. Something beeped, and the door opened to reveal Balith’s private suite. It was as luxurious as the clothes he wore. There were low oak chairs with soft leather cushions arranged at an ebony coffee table topped with a glass vase. There was a fireplace, at the moment dead, with a mantel decorated with porcelain valuables. There were abstract paintings on the light blue walls, statues of nymphs garbed in flowing robes, and, way in the back, a door open to reveal a bed all draped in layered, red silk and satin and velvet pillows. It was to this bed that Balith led Iris. He had her sit on the edge, and looked down at her with eyes that glittered in the dark. “I bet you’re hungry,” he said in a near-whisper. “So am I. Shall we fix that? What do you say, little girl?”
  3. I don't use Facebook or Twitter. I tried, but I just don't give a damn. I also don't care about TV shows GoT or The Walking Dead. I do read the GoT books though.
  4. It's so awesome when the world starts spinning like a disco ball.

    1. Die Shize

      Die Shize

      I believe that’s called a concussion.

  5. All things evil dwell within the dark… …but sometimes, the dark dwells within the light. This age-old proverb echoed through Kaige’s mind as he walked the halls of the building. He had left his rope hanging at the trench within the ground, leaving the warm sunlight and vivid greenery of the forest in favor of this dank, dark place. Through its weathered markings and runes, it reeked of ancient power, a dismal evil of a vile stench that excited his senses, tensing his entire body. It was for this that he had come here, drawn inexorably to his prey as any prey is drawn to the feast. His footsteps echoed along the stone walkway. It was uneven and cracked with age, and even a cat’s eyes would have found it hard to pierce the thick shadows. But Kaige’s bright green eyes saw through it all with ease, scanning the walls, the decrepit ceiling and secretive passages. He paused as he came to a dead end and turned, his light leather jerkin creaking as he returned and entered into an adjoining hallway. He saw first the light, touching the disturbed earth, signaling an entrance he had missed. He was disappointed only briefly, however, for he saw the shape of something great and beastly, silhouetted in the combination of shadows and light. His hands gripped the leather wrapped, metal haft of his spear tightly, a long weapon with a wicked blade and eager thirst. He brought it up to point at the wolf, daring it to proceed further. Normally Kaige would have attacked without hesitation, slaying the creature whose prey undoubtedly consisted of harmless rabbits and reckless deer. But his sharp instincts told him to stay his hand, at least for the moment, as this was no ordinary wolf. Just as this building was no mere ruin with nothing to offer, so too this wolf was not just an animal with canine shape.
  6. Hesitantly Landon took Akni’s hand, following as she led the way behind Arkanalandaro. Most would have been thrilled at the idea of riding a dragon, but Landon didn’t entirely trust Ani’s grandfather quite yet. To be entirely truthful, the idea of being so high up in the sky was just a tad overwhelming; he had spent nearly his entire life underground. The first time he had ventured up and out to visit Akni in Last Chance, he had shuddered at the sky, so open and wide. Fortunately, he liked the idea of being stuck in this forsaken desert even less. The journey upwards was hard but entertaining as Ark told them stories of dragons and interesting anomalies of the desert. Even so, Landon was exhausted by the time they stepped out into the desert. Typical of such landscapes, it was viciously cold at night, and he shivered. He hated this place. Ark, on the other hand, seemed delighted. He breathed in the cold air and chuckled. “Aaah… how long has it been since I have last seen the sky, Aslashar?” “Many, many, many years, master!” Aslashar piped. “Indeed.” Ark raised his arms, his wings spreading. Air suddenly rose and rushed around him in a wild zephyr, nearly pushing Akni and Landon back down into the earth. Slowly, then faster and faster, red scales grew over Arks’ smooth human skin. He grew in size, horns growing from his face and back. His wings, enormous now, beat against the ground as his tail thrashed as if it was a great serpent with its own life. Ark threw back his head and roared, his jaws revealing fangs longer than the greatest of swords. The sky seemed to shudder even after his call faded and the transformation from man to dragon was complete. After Akni managed to force Landon onto Ark’s massive back, the dragon wasted no time. His wings spread and with a single beat they were off the ground. He wheeled in the air, smiling as Landon groaned at the feeling of leaving his stomach behind him, and took off to the east. In moments, villages and small towns were passing below them, and the denizens of them were screaming and shouting in panic. Amused, Ark did let loose a blast of fire into the sky once or twice, blotting out the stars for a moment or two, which didn’t help calm the citizens. Ark set a pace that would have been excruciatingly grueling for Akni, but for him, it simply refreshing. It was still a while before the Cold Mountains came into view, and Ark flew in increasingly smaller circle. Landon clutched tightly at Akni when Ark finally landed in the depths of the mountains, sinking into the cold, fresh snow that covered the jagged rocks. He swung his head around, fire blasting from his mouth, turning the snow into rushing water that would freeze again in great waves around them. There, crouched against the side of a hill, was a pile of dragon bones.
  7. I write exclusively on my desktop. The laptop I find a little hard to type on, and forget about using a phone. I might write a sentence or two on chat, but that's it. I had a friend who I once wrote with who sometimes had to use her phone to post; when she used her phone, her posts were disappointingly short (she usually wrote long, satisfying posts) and had more grammatical errors than I cared to count. Knowing it'd be the same with me, I never pull out my phone to write. The thread won't disappear overnight, so it can wait till I sit my ass down in my computer chair.
  8. Beyond the borders of his donned guise, Zenahriel stared out over the great throngs of people. Of every race and lands they had come, droves of men and women – even children! – to celebrate the crowning of King Milorian. In respect and reverence, most everyone had dressed in their finest attire; velvet and satin gowns studded with diamonds, silk tunics chased with gold and silver seams, extravagant jewelry of the most precious metals and rare stones, and of course the masks. No one’s face was laid bare here; whether by plaster, plastic or paint or molded metal, all came disguised and unknown. There were foxes and wolves here, mingling among the faces of grand angels and fearsome demons. There were even stranger faces too, some covering the entire face with permanent smiles or a frown with a teardrop painted below the eyehole. Zenahriel too had chosen carefully for this event. He had chosen a metallic blue suit that shone and glimmered slightly when he moved. The waist, collar, and custom tie were embossed with silver designs of elegant vines. Nothing overly flamboyant or eye-catching, but becoming beside those who had chosen the garish over a more discerning style. His wings were hidden away, for he did not wish to be known or garner attention here, when such belonged only to the King himself. Beside him, Rou might have preferred paint, but Zenahriel had tied his hair back and donned a mask of carefully carved metal. It was done in a filigree style with red rubies adorning the black frame. While it truly did well to concealed his face, at the same time it accentuated his fine features. And there was no other mask like it; like his clothes, it had been custom-made and designed solely for him. The famous jeweler who had drawn the designs and set the stones was only too happy to provide for the High Lord when Zenahriel approached him with the request. He looked down at his partner, made beautiful to ravishingly gorgeous in her flattering green gown and golden accessories. There were many unidentified ears here, and that made any place dangerous, and so he whispered more than spoke his words. “Even he knows better than to strike me.” Zenahriel shook his head as she adjusted the tie. “He is fickle and violent, but he is not stupid.” They moved into the foyer, where music echoed throughout the chamber and light shot across in slender beams. Tiny rainbows danced across the ceiling and walls as crystal chandeliers refracted the rays. Zenahriel sighed in contentment before shooting a glare at Rou. Yes, she had made her choice, but he still though it foolish. Even so, he did not broach an argument, for it was useless to try to change the mind of a woman such as Rou Ji. “Keep your voice down,” he chided her. “There are too many ears here…” A woman, sporting long rabbit ears, brushed by. “… With some keener than others,” Zenahriel finished wryly. With his arm hooked around Rou’s, he suddenly pulled her close, leaning over her like a man caught in sudden lust for his wife. “Hmm, a bold move? Maybe. But who could resist taking you to this event?” He pulled back and smiled rather wickedly. “Don’t get too close to other men, my dear. Their thoughts are often impure.” He straightened and looked around, spotting the bar. Enormous in its initial state, the bar had been generously expanded and stocked to the brim with food and drink to accommodate all the guests. He didn’t wait for his lovely partner to begin; he started toward it, leading the way. “I don’t doubt you could do some heavy damage. Try not to get us in trouble,” he warned playfully. “Shall I order for us? Perhaps they have some Orisian house wine, a favorite of yours, yes?” he grinned. @Narcissa
  9. Chains jostled and clattered as one girl was made to step forward. She was perhaps ten or eleven, with black hair and dark, frightened eyes. Her fear radiated from her, so thick it was almost tangible. The crowd felt her fear, and fed on it as a predator feeds on the meat of its prey. Amongst themselves the men and women commented on her form and weight, on the condition of her skin and her pretty face. It was like they were judging the condition of a horse. Longrivers elaborated on her age and gender, describing her as if he were describing a wine cabinet. He snapped the whip again, and voices raised. “Fifty gold!” A man yelled. “Seventy-five!” “One hundred!” “Two hundred!” a female voice shouted. Silence. “Sold!” Longrivers cried. A few cheers and few grumbles as a slender woman with cruel eyes stepped onto the stage. Longrivers turned and, taking from the woman another chain, exchanged locks and leashes. The girl was led away in tears as the cruel-eyed woman disappeared back into the crowd. One after the other the slaves were led forward, betted on and sold. Some, the older ones, Heth among them, failed to sell, of course, and were let back in line, but the terror in their eyes said that perhaps being sold was even better than what would become of them later. Then, “We have a special product tonight, ladies and gentlemen!” Longrivers announced. He yanked hard on the chain, and Iris was pulled forward. Impressed murmurs rippled through the crowd as Longrivers traced the handle of the whip down her body. “A very, very special treat!” Tyferi said, his voice cajoling. “Perhaps… ten? Who cares? Look at this body. Look at this beautiful hair and eyes. A true, rare exotic treat, my friends. Imagine holding her in your hands. Look at her glowing skin. Who wants her? Anyone? Have you ever seen anyone like her before? No! Limited supply, my friends!” The crowd was silent. Then, like a sudden explosion, erupted. “Two hundred!” “Three!” “Four!” “Five!” “Seven! Seven hundred!” Silence. Then, “One thousand!” The crowd stilled. “Sold! Congratulations, Balith,” Longrivers purred. A tall man stood up from the crowd. He was handsome, more striking than Longrivers, perhaps in his thirties. His smile lit up his fine features, reaching up to his bright green eyes flecked with gold, standing out against a thick, black mane. He walked up to the stage and smiled at his new product as chains were switched and leashes exchanged. “Come, little girl,” he whispered, his voice sugary-sweet. “You’re mine now. I’ll show you to my private suite.” He pulled on the leash gently, leading her to the back of the room, opened a door and led Iris into the dark hallway beyond. The door shut quietly. Central Forge, reactivated, the interface read.
  10. With impeccable manners, Zenahriel dined quietly on the soup, taking care not to make a sound. No slurping, no loud swallowing, not even the click of spoon against bowl disturbed Rou’s speech. It was actually quite impressive, especially since his eyes did not once glance at the soup to guide his movements; his gaze remained focused solely on Rou Ji. She said she would be frank, and she was. The explanation and offer was short and guileless, unadorned with pretty words or any needless complexity. Unfortunately, the simplicity did not make any of it more pleasant or endearing, especially not to the Black Queen herself. For all that Rou insisted that Gabriela could only benefit from her position as a ruler of Umbra – a generous offer indeed – the words still seemed to carry within it a veiled threat. This was not what Rou meant, to be sure. Zenahriel could see that, could feel Rou’s sincerity and effort to remain calm and proper. But what was meant and what was heard were two entirely different stories, and he barely covered a pained grimace as Rou finally finished. To say the Black Queen was not receptive was a slight understatement, and every word she returned carried the message that they were to leave without further ado. That they, whoever they were, whatever their station, whatever their message or meaning or past relations, were unwelcome. High Lords did not blush easily, if at all. Nevertheless, Zenahriel felt himself grow uncomfortably hot when the Black Queen voiced the greatest lie he had ever heard. It was then he could not help himself. He had restrained himself thus far, meandering away the time with the soup, now almost gone. He could do no more, and a great deal less… which he did not care for. He stood. The spoon clattered back onto the sides of the bowl. “Your Grace.” Stern, mirthless, horribly respectful and angry at once. “Yes, you have your family. Your son will benefit from your parentage and as such receive the finest of education wherever he is, whatever the place. With blessings given from all who know, he is safe from harm.” His eyes narrowed. “It is improper to leave…your guests… to themselves… but you are welcome to leave. You are Queen, after all.” His voice lowered, almost a growl. “But do not lie to me that you are happy and want for nothing.” He spun around to face Rou. “We are dismissed, Rou Ji.”
  11. Dark and sweet-smelling, the smoke floated around the room for a few moments more before finally fading. Slowly but steadily the temperature returned to normal, warm and comforting after the chill of the magic she had spun. Even so, there was a lingering touch of her sorcery, heavy in the air, an odd feeling of strange origin that would not soon pass. Such was normal with the black arcane; it was not easy to rid all traces of it once used. Kassandra sat easy and serene as she was when she began her soothsaying. Her green eyes, light again, watched Roen as he moved to the window and withdrew the curtains. The moon and starlight washed the floors in a faint veil of silver, followed by a whisper of wind that rustled the boughs of trees outside. It was going to be a cold night. Briefly, Kassandra wondered if Roen would have her leave. The weather, whether aggressive or pleasing, did not often trouble her, but she did prefer sleeping in a bed. Not that any wish of seeing her gone was unwarranted, considering what had just occurred. She smiled as Roen spoke, his words quiet, in the tone of a confession, as one might take when revealing sins to a judging priest. Pushing back a stray lock of auburn hair, she considered only for a moment. “No teasing, my Lord. I think you’ll find out soon enough, but anything you have discovered this night will undoubtedly come true. But, perhaps not in ways you expect. Many tellings of the future are… abstract, shall we say? Not so easily interpreted. Often, when people try to understand the visions they see, they end up disappointed. Some happily, others… not so much,” she chuckled. One hand reached out, taking hold of the bowl still filled with infused water. The blood of a devil… what a wondrous thing. She brought the water close and sniffed it. Yes, there it was. Fire and brimstone, ash and coals, power and hate and grief above all. She had not been mistaken. “Milord Roen, next time someone asks for your blood… do not be so hasty to give it.” She smiled coyly. “Just some harmless advice. For now…” She upended the bowl, sending the water splashing over the fine carpet of the room. It hissed, as if it had been boiling, but when it ceased… the floor was dry, and there was no stain nor spot of moisture to be found. “A courtesy, since I think I might like you.” She stood. The glossy folds of her dress shimmered as she walked to stand next to Roen. She looked out at the evening sky, so of mysteries and secrets. Every second that passed, a person died. Every second that passed, a person was born. The continuation of time, life and its impending doom, it was all so very fascinating. It was that fascination that had turned her into what she was now. “You weren’t too far wrong, Roen,” she said lightly. “How does it feel, to have a witch in your household? I will leave if you wish, and leave you unmolested further, since you’ve proven to be so interesting… but I will say, the magic I wove for you tonight is rather taxing, and perhaps worth more than a simple bed for the night?”
  12. Lost count of how many times I redesigned the handle and the blade. This is for @Malintzin, and I hope she likes it!
  13. When Akni spoke of the totem, Arkanalandaro’s brows lifted, his bright eyes flashing in recognition. He leaned back slowly, then nodded. “This artifact thou speaketh of, yes, I know it.” He sighed and looked off into an unseen distance. “Such a small thing to bring so much harm. Does thou know the story behind it?” He stood and paced around the great cave, wings rustling behind him as he walked. Aslashar followed him diligently, floating around the dragon’s head. “Many dragons died by mankind’s will to gain their power. There were many of us once, though now we are few. But the souls of several of thy draconic race were captured, and sealed into these… totems. ‘Tis a cursed item you seek, granddaughter. Why should thee want such a thing?” He shrugged then, coming to a stop before Akni. “’Tis no matter, I suppose. The totem was here, yes. It is no longer. I took it with me to Arkanalandis’ final resting place and laid it to rest with him, thou father’s last honor. It lies buried in the Cold Mountains, far east of here. Thou would never find it.” Orange-red eyes glittered mischievously. “Without me, of course.” He smiled. “I will bring you to it, my granddaughter, but even with thy power thee would never make the trip. Not to mention the issue of thy mate. Thee and thy mate shall have to ride me.” He turned then and made his way to the entrance of the cave, flying up to the steps and proceeding upwards.
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