eliayase: (Default)
The egg yolk sun peeks over the horizon, lighting the treetops with an orange morning glow. The forest is still nearly silent, the birds and other fauna still tucked away or resting under the warming sun. The woods' floor is dark and cold from the night, still lying in wait for the later day's hotter rays.
The tree-enclosed village begins to awaken with the morning sun, but one youngling has already left.

Ginger footsteps across dark and moist soil, the soft click-crunch of pine needles sighing on the forest floor. Chipmunks and robins don't scurry away, already aware that the tawny figure is one of them.
The being steps into a trickling river far from the village, the cold currents tickling their legs as they smile down. The sun is reflecting on the surface as it begins to slowly rise, the rest of the woods still dark and damp and sleeping.

The child sits down in the stream, playing with the water as it dances around their fingers. Small fish dart around warily. The cattails and river weeds are motionless, basking in the beginning of light.
The child looks over the horizon, past the twisting black tangle of morning trees on high. Far, far away there are unfamiliar shapes: sharp, square edges on tall, protruding structures. Even the sun dares not bring them to light.

They stare, unmoving, and the river dances in cool ribbons around them. The sun smiles down on their back. The fish zip around at their sides. The trees bend and twist like gentle arms.
But still they are curious. For as strange and beautiful as they think their forest home is,
humans would always be more dangerous and more intriguing.
They did not know it yet, but this curiosity would lead to the loves of their life
and to their downfalls.
eliayase: (Default)
welp, my turn to write about the great tea monster. except it won't be explicit pff

"The Ben Diaries" may become canon just saying

Dear dia-- journal,

Sometimes I think I should give him a second chance.  Rhaego, I mean.

Like, the guy is friendless and literally locked in the basement. Not to mention he needs serious haircare assistance. And a bath. And new clothes. And... okay, I'm not a doting mother.
I can't remember a time we were ever buddies. We haven't talked in weeks. 

Not to mention he worshipped Kai for a while or something like that. I'm pretty sure he would've done anything for him. Plus he has a weird foot obsession? He could've licked Ka-- Okay, yeah, no, maybe we wouldn't get along. I don't like judging people but the guy is freaky.

God, I'm pretty sure I heard him moaning downstairs the other night. Did he drag someone in there with him? Is there a "damsel in distress" we need to save? Do dragons even still do that?

Maybe I kind of pity him. 

In other news, I started listening to some rap stuff. It's okay, I guess? I think the guy's name was Drake. More on that in another entry.

- Ben
eliayase: (Default)
do me a favor and read this in the most HEARTBROKEN VOICE YOU CAN IMAGINE because that's how i heard it as i wrote it

have a blast 🔥

I have a problem.

Multiple problems, really. Lack of fashion sense, no chill, Kai, bad movie obsession... a lot. I won't lie.
Yet there is one you probably wouldn't know about if I don't tell you.

I have a huge fear of fires. Not the tiny one on the stove or the one crowning a candle wick, but the roaring flames of campfires and burning buildings. 
The wisps of bright heat that can whisk away entire cities, entire families, entire forests in the blink of an eye.

We would run. 
We would run from the fires, leaving behind all we had created in search of a new beginning. Our homes, our belongings, everything. Even those too weak to run. The sick, the elderly. 

I've seen people burn to death, their screams of agony unbearable to hear. It's etched into my mind like the horrid carvings on dead trees. 
I can't remember them for the good they did me, only the excruciated looks on their faces as their flesh burned away. It makes me want to hurl.

Yet I can't run from those memories. I can't run from fires in my head. 
They say some people like to watch the world burn.
Those people are sick.


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