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The Hummingbird

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About The Hummingbird

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    Penguin Overlord

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

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  1. The Hummingbird

    Books on the mind

    Perhaps some of you have watched The Handmaid's Tale, but have you read it? Full of broken emotion and poetic styling, this dystopian novel is truly a prize to pick up and read.
  2. Some shine because they must. Others, because they can.

    1. Twitterpated


      Some because they greasy. 😂 

  3. The Hummingbird

    Ataraxy Learns/ Tries to Draw

    Nevermind then. Sorry for wasting your time.
  4. The Hummingbird

    Ataraxy Learns/ Tries to Draw

    Hey man, you've got a great start. Your hands are running slightly small though. I draw a little,and found this was worth the whopping 15 bucks: https://www.udemy.com/character-art-school-complete-character-drawing/ It has a lot of great pointers and many other classes as well.
  5. The Hummingbird

    Buried 'Neath The Ashes

    Whatever he was, Zenahriel was not a stranger to humor, and his lips curved as Rou doubled over in laughter to his minor joke. What she said next did not diminish the smile and only made it grow; it was true – he did admire the human Zacharias for his strength of body and mind, for his will that made him fight the losing battle against the marauders as well as seeing him surrender his life to Zenahriel. He finished the blood orange and, spurred on by the sight of Rou’s “divine cake,” proceeded on to a fine fruit tart decorated with slices of peaches, kiwis, and a mélange of various fresh berries atop a layer of rich cream. It was delightful to say the least, and Zenahriel could not recall when last he had such a meal. Recent transpiring events had wiped away his appetite, which he now found was returning with a vengeance. Was that a result of the taste of this dessert, or his new company? Zenahriel’s dark eyes steadied on Rou as she returned to the subject of the Black Queen. A brief nod of acknowledgement coupled with a nonchalant shrug assured that Rou would not spoil his mood talking of Gabriela. While the Black Queen had been the cause of much pain and the catalyst of a great change in his view of life, he still harbored a strong love for her. One that was, fortunately, no longer mere infatuation, but a passion tempered with respect. Now here rose the predicament. To which did he owe the most service – the Black Queen of Orisia or Empress of Umbra? Zenahriel munched a bite of the fruit tart thoughtfully. He didn’t like making hasty decisions. He studied Rou carefully, weighing her words and promises. They all rang with an honesty he appreciated, and at last decided to repay her in kind. “I will see to it that no harm touches my Queen of Orisia,” he said dutifully, “as well as to see that no reckless action reaches you, my Empress of Umbra. Send me the details to my private quarters, and… I look forward to our departure, my Lady.” There was no more to be said. Politely finished the fruit tart, he excused himself, bidding Rou a good evening. There was much to be done, after all.
  6. The Hummingbird

    General chat thread

    Today the Christmas music on endless repeat begins. "LAST CHRISTMAS, I GAVE YOU MY HEART, BUT THE VERY NEXT DAY, YOU GAVE IT AWAY..." Look, I like some holiday tunes as well as the next person, but I'd rather listen to Trans Siberian Orchestra or something.
  7. The Hummingbird

    Buried 'Neath The Ashes

    For all the four hours that passed, Zenahriel’s eyes never left her, this new rising Empress of Umbra. They remained focused, thinking, pondering over each and every word she spoke, absorbing her story in careful silence. Not once did his attention ever waver; he was an avid and respectful listener to a passionate tale of sorrow and loss. The only time he diverted a portion of his attention was when he bent forward to refill her glass of wine, though even this he stopped when he deemed she’d had enough. Even the hardiest of drinkers could fall ill to too much. When she finished, Zenahriel said nothing at first, one set of fingers unweaving themselves from the other hand to tap pensively against the table. Rou Ji’s life had been hard, and would have broken or at the very least killed any other woman, whatever powers she held… fire or other abilities notwithstanding. Yet here she was, whole. Scarred, but unbroken. At last he nodded. He did not offer any of the useless words a normal man might procure, words of being sorry for her, words of pity – things she didn’t need. He merely smiled in gratitude. “Never in my life had I heard such a story. You have been through many hardships, Rou Ji,” he said softly, “truly I see why my King has chosen you.” He waved a hand. “Bored? Nay, anything but that.” He looked over his shoulder, out the window to a waxing crescent moon that just begun its long nightly journey into the deep blue sky. What time had passed! He turned back to her and tilted his head. “My turn, is it not?” he finally said. “Well, Rou, my tale is not so fascinating as yours, I’m afraid.” Bracing his arms against the table he stood, wandering over to the window, staring out at the night, listening for a moment to the quiet sounds of the evening – an owl’s call, crickets chirping, the sounds of low conversation held in other buildings, other rooms in a city risen by stalwart ambition. “My name, they say, is Zenahriel Zacharias Darkness. But it is more than just a name. It is what I am. I was not born. I was created by gods even I am not privy to know.” Zenahriel was no spirit, no soul, not an object given sentience. He was a force, a source of energy drawn up from the night and shadows and all things that drew power from what the sun had abandoned long ago. That force had been cast down to the material plane, and it was then animalistic instinct told him he could not live there, not without a body that world was meant to sustain. “I found him, lying in the mud, in a lonely wood. A father had built a house for his wife and daughter, so they might live in peace, away from the corruption of great cities and the squalor of village ghettos.” Zenahriel’s eyes glowed dimly in the moonlight shining through the window. The peace had not lasted. Marauders, men without conscience, men of greed and killer instinct, had hunted them, and sought to destroy the house and its three inhabitants. The father had taken up his only spear, and sought to defend his family. But the men were too much and too many. “They took him out back, stabbed him ten times, and left him there. He was going to die, he was meant to die.” Zenahriel took in a sharp breath. “So strong…! He refused to die. Even with his body bleeding out, he meant to crawl to his house, to somehow defend his family. I decided, then, to speak to him, to show him not all was lost.” The man’s name was Zacharias. The deal the force offered was simple. Zacharias would dwell silent in his own mind, his soul resting in the depths of sleep, and give his body over to the force to do was he wished. In return, the force would save his family, watch over his descendants, and see that his blood would spread across the world. “He agreed. What else could he do? So I took his body, merged what I am with what he was. I killed the marauders, saw his family safe, and left.” The force then chose a name for himself. Zenahriel. Zenahriel looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists. “Of course, there are consequences, and there was a consequence for me for taking a body that still lived.” Had the body been dead, there would have been nothing to be concerned about. As it was, all the emotions, the feelings, the memories and desires and sensations Zacharias had been enjoyed (and sometimes mourned), now belonged to Zenahriel, the being who claimed his body. Anger. Joy. Sadness. Love. “This ability to feel has given me such misery and gladness over the time I have been alive.” Zenahriel’s gaze grew distant. “At one time… misery outweighed all else. The Black Queen of Orisia, she is good at unrequited love, you know? I intended to sleep, for eons perhaps, when she wouldn’t return what I unwittingly felt. But your King woke me. I drank of his blood, and now, as his mate, I am given purpose I have never known before.” He turned back to Rou, grinning. “I love life, Rou. This body has lasted me… for so long. Zacharias was not only strong in spirit, but in body too. He is able to contain the force that I am and still live. Someday, this body will finally decay and die, and I will have to find another, but so far this body has shown no signs of wear. And…” he laughed, “he Is rather handsome, don’t you agree?” He returned to the table, sat down, and picked up a blood orange, peeling its skin back. “I don’t have to eat,” he said. “Or drink, or sleep. But it is enjoyable, and I like to take care of this body so it may last me even longer. Some may call me a parasite, Rou, but… it is pact we have, Zacharias and I.” “There is just one thing,” he added as he discarded the skin of the orange to an empty saucer. “In other lands, my power wanes. Only in Genesaris, here especially, is my power at its absolute potential. In Orisia and other lands – Terrenus, Tellus Mater… La’Ruta and their respective magic rules supreme, not I, though I still have some power. So I do not yet know what you have to ask of me, but I am not sure what use I would be.” He bit into the orange, chewed and swallowed. It was well ripe, tart-sweet. “But I have decided, Rou Ji. You are most worthy of being Empress.”
  8. The Hummingbird

    Ataraxy's Movie, TV, & Book Talk Hub!

    Overlord was a very solid movie. I actually forgot about the zombie/horror movie genre part for most of it. Good acting, some good music, good pacing for a simple-to-grasp storyline.. Just an awesome ride throughout. It's not the best of the best, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Definitely not for the faint of heart, or even for those hoping for a lot of mindless zombie-slaying. It's almost a horror-drama, and you just don't see many of those these days.
  9. The Hummingbird

    A New Arrival

    This boy was rather energetic. Zenahriel craned his head to one side to get a better look at the rumpled map. At first he was puzzled; it didn’t look like any land he knew, much less Genesaris. A moment passed. Then he took the map from the boy, and turned it right side up, at which point it made a little more sense, but not much. The landmarks were outdated, some of them plain wrong for modern times, and missing important labels and marks that today’s maps would never miss. Laughing, he handed the map back as the boy gave his name. “Ayan Yurian, of clan Yurian,” he repeated. He had never heard of such a clan with people who could fly as he did, and assumed it must be a race form some land he was not that familiar with. Terrenus perhaps, or Tellus Mater. “Pleasure to meet you… and thank you.” Zenahriel was rather proud of his wings as well, although at the moment, black feathers fell to the ground, a partial molt triggered by recent harsh times. “I am Zenahriel, and clearly you’ve never been here before…” … Otherwise you’d know me. The energy of Ayan, his rather eccentric, erratic behavior, interested Zenahriel, and to be honest it was rather endearing as well. He patted Ayan’s shoulder. “Calm down. It’s the Intermediary. Come, follow me. It’s not far.” He took off walking, leading the way out of the park and into the streets of Umbra. The roads were quieter this time of day, but not by much. Ayan would notice most of the citizens of Umbra had odd features; golden eyes and fangs to name just two of many. There were beast people, and humans, elves as well, and most common of all, vampires now wandered the streets in the comfort of the encroaching night. Umbra had grown in recent times, and the people who called it home had grown as well, in number and variety. “So… Ayan,” Zenahriel said casually as he walked, leading the way to the tavern, “where are you from? You said you are of clan Yurian, yet I do not recognize that name, and what brings you to Umbra, of all cities?”
  10. The Hummingbird

    General chat thread

    And what a lovely post it was ^_^
  11. The Hummingbird

    General chat thread

    I was more impressed by Five Finger Death Punch than Breaking Benjamin. Might've been the mic problems they were having though. Bad Wolves was pretty good, but unfortunately my company and I missed most of From Ashes.
  12. The Hummingbird

    General chat thread

    I loved Rise of the Guardians.
  13. The Hummingbird

    A New Arrival

    Making his daily evening tour above the city, Zenahriel Zacharias reveled in the sensation of flight. The beautiful weightlessness, the cold air across his skin, sliding through his hair and feathers, the feeling of his wings rowing up and down with perfect timing and control – this was all magnificent, but overwhelming even this was the sight. Umbra was a majestic city, with white buildings and marble streets built with nothing less than obsessive care and architectural brilliance. They sparkled in the darkness, and shone with a silver tone in the pale moonlight and glow of the emerging stars. He loved looking at the rounded cityscape, winding around the tall towers of the castle where the highest nobility kept court and slept, enjoying the silence and peace of the capital of the Carmine Dominion. It filled him with a peace only a creature of the silent, chill air could feel. His last inspection of the city was the Ivory Square Garden., and it was there he saw a most curious sight. His keen eyesight, surpassing the sharpness even of a hawk or eagle, took in the shape of a boy, dressed lightly for the temperature of late autumn. This was itself not that interesting; what was, was the white wings that emerged from the youth’s back. Zenahriel usually knew what such limbs meant, yet the boy didn’t give off the aura that most angels flaunted, whatever their age. He was talking to himself, and Zenahriel heard every word. He couldn’t help a small smile. He was obviously, and possibly hopelessly lost. Zenahriel leaned hard to the left, banking in the air, and fell in a sharp descent. He landed hard in front of the boy, his thick, muscular wings sweeping across the ground before folding back, framing his tall body in their tones of midnight purple, blue-black and stygian hues. He wore nothing but slacks, the rest of his body bare and as fit as his wings. He was an intimidating sight and he knew it. Still, he tried his best to exude a less frightening presence, speaking in a gentler tone that what he was used to. “Lost, are we?”
  14. The Hummingbird

    Flying away!

    I decided to support my writing addiction by sticking around for a little longer. Every hummingbird needs nectar, and writing is my nectar.
  15. The Hummingbird

    In the Forests of the Night

    There was no help coming, no help expected. Zenahriel was alone, and truth be told, the only thought in his mind was Gabriela. Even as the ground transformed into a lake of blood, he saw it all, saw her snap her beloved Shade’s neck and the battle of her assassin and the ranger who sought to save her life. Zenahriel prayed that the ranger would win. Nothing else mattered. His limbs were heavy, growing weak. He didn’t have much time. Unable to breathe, Zenahriel reached to touch his neck, feeling the gaping wound the arrow had left. The blood flow was slowing. Please, La’Ruta, let me do just this. He reached deep inside himself, summoned the power afforded to him, pulled on the well of energy within his soul, and called on it with despair and desperation. Whether it was La’Ruta’s mercy or his own strength, he would never know, but inky black tendrils formed around his blood soaked fingers. With weakness, but stalwart determination, they slid into the wound, stopping the flow of blood and closing the opened flesh until all that was left was an oozing, impotent cut. That was that, he could do no more. His hand fell limp. So… useless, he thought as he slipped into darkness.