Teh Kail

… he won’t let me.

Cook is smoking on the porch, looking at a city that bustles with life, acting like the horrors of a killer robot or sadistic cult is something still kept beyond the veil. She’s wearing a shirt that obviously doesn’t belong to her in size; it’s big enough to cloak her naked form, silhouetted under the white blouse. Standing at the balcony corner, smoking, a distant figure can be seen about as big as a dot in the air.

 

Shirt hem billowing away from Cook’s ass which is silhouetted under it. (A SHAMELESS ASS SHOT YES)

 

 

Cook:

Looking down from up here. It can make man feel like God.

 

The cigarette pulled out for an exhale, showing only city lights in the background. Shot of mostly lips/breast and some face.

 

Cook:

Not here here. Just anywhere above the rest. Where it turns people into ants.

 

Cook’s full shirted figure revealed on a windy balcony, at night, over the city lights. She’s looking towards a dot of a male figure.

Cook:

But what if it’s those looking up that see a God? Hypocrites that expect sweat and blood without straining their own.

 

Looking away again so she can exhale smoke, as the shadow of a male figure coats over her much smaller frame.

When he lands, you see his face and star emblem chest, as he’s standing behind Cook, who’s face is now also revealed.

 

Bill:

They say every puff takes a year off your life, Miss Cook. You should really consider dropping the habit.

 

Cook:

 So you keep reminding me.

 

Cook snubs out her cigarette then flicks it off the side.

 

Cook:

Welcome home.

 

The cigarette is tumbling down with city lights flickering passed it in blurs.

 

Cook:

 

Bill reaches out and pulls her back up against his chest for an embrace. He holds her with desperation like it’s the only reason to keep standing.

The cigarette is tumbling down with city lights flickering passed it in blurs.

 

Cook:

 

She turns around in his arms before lips pressed brush over the emblem star as her fingers do the same.

The cigarette is tumbling down with city lights flickering passed it in blurs.

 

Cook:

 

Silouette figures enter through the open balcony door. Arms are seen held over Cook’s head, who’s now laying on her back on the bed.

The cigarette is tumbling down with city lights flickering passed it in blurs.

 

Cook:

 

The blouse she wore is seen as it’s torn from her body, buttons still done up though the fabric is now in ruins. Bill’s belt has already been done, falling off on his leg and the top of the spandex outfit pulled up so his muscular back is beginning to be seen.

The cigarette is tumbling down with city lights flickering passed it in blurs.

 

Cook:

…between his selfless sacrifices and unwaving/unsatable passion I can see my own salvation from my sins. Just as long as I stay focused on him.

 

The bed leg is shown breaking, and there’s two eye shaped red dots in pure darkness.

The cigarette is tumbling down with city lights flickering passed it in blurs.

 

Cook:

 And I don’t dare look away, but even if I wanted to…

 

A full body show of both shows them in the very mist of their love making, where Cook is on the bottom but propped up by the large hand circled around her neck. Bill stares down at her as his eyes are flaring red. Muscles are strained not from force by from restraint, as he tries to stay as gentle as he can remember to be. Despite what pain he must be feeling, evident in curled toes and gripping fingers, her face is of attentive interest as she stares back. (Smaller panel of his hand?)

 

Cook: Internal Dialog: … he won’t let me.

I like you a lot.

“I think it’s because you like me a little.” I said. 

Snatching off her sun glasses she hits me with bedroom eyes and a million dollar smile to match. While I recovered, two long fingers trotted up along my jacket before taking the knot of my tie hostage.  

“We both know I don’t like anyone ‘a little’. Besides… I like you a lot.”

OC Hero.

Often mistaken for mythological creatures, observers from Neptune were able to study its neighbouring planet, Earth, as mermaids and merman. Though now that earth has little relevance for the Europains, it is rare to find them.

Except, of course, for Mermah.

An anthropologist of her people, she travelled back to earth in hopes of finding old elements of their technology. Instead, she found a more curious case of a human male whose genes had been affected by the crystals mined from Triton, and used to power their technologies.

I’m obsessed!

She gathered her hair up with both hands, strands of gold tenticles falling from the collection on her head. She stops when she feels my eyes peeling back the shadows that hide her naked figure.
“Keep staring like that, hun, and you’ll make a girl nervous.”
She wasn’t nervous. The way her back curved, and chest stuck itself out wasn’t in the fashion of a nervous girl.

Instead a Goddess was sitting on my bed, wearing the moonlight like a silk robe. I forgot about the regret I’d feared before, and just let myself give into what I’d done.

At lest adulty wasn’t as bad a crime as murder.

With a little help.

a detached smile

a jaded laugh

a well appraising gaze

an exquisite urbanity smile, well rehearsed and executed like the queens wave

bitterness crept into her features

she either held an intellect cunning enough to divert all thoughts from its design, or she was simple an imbecile

flames of scarlet crept across her features. Expression (softening/hardening) in its wake

inquiry seemed to dwell in her gaze (, but she refused to humour it)

an infectious smile, bright and vivid, that could urge even a statue’s sculpted face into submission

her glassy expression of inattention gave her disinterest away

the demeanor produced a charming air of vigor and vitality

a demeanor that hinted towards a sagacious mind

sarcastic words ruffled her anger

the first, faint, trace of irritation

fascinating tomes to beguile the tedious hours

was her most prevalent characteristic at the time being

words held a faint accent of reproach

a great pang gripped her heart like an iron hand

a grim and morbid fascination

a half-breathless murmur

a murmur/small sound of complacency

a brief lapse from the expected decencies of civilization

Goat Eye

Dreamt of a goat eye haunting a young girl. Her Nanny, a foreigner whose culture often evolves around occult practicing, fights to protect the girl from the evil eyes gaze. They live in a converted light house that often attracted cats, who the young girl had taken as her own. Sadly, knowing of the girls connection, the goat eye infected an eye of ever cat and uses them like vessels to watch the nanny and attack the girl. Lighting red protective candles, burning sage, collecting crystals and draw ing spiritual symbols - the nanny attempts to ward off the malicious presence and save the girl. Eventually a priest is called in, discovering that the nanny herself is an unknowing vessel - having been dead by the power of the goat’s eye since it’s suspicious arrival.

The devil makes us sin - but we like spinning in his grip.

And then came a fawn-colored sea, streaked here and there with explosions of deeply coloured orange waves. The waters, which had been building bit by bit, finally broken its glassy surface in a typhoon, a pulse, of pleasurable waves. And as each rose, and fell within it’s short life span, they brought with them a tumultuous rush of sensations piggyback riding on a stream of rhythmic memories. Memories that may of long been forgotten, but still lingered patiently in the back of their minds, memories of things they didn’t realize they knew, memories that were simply old fantasies, old hopes, old dreams long forgotten or outlived. Their essences unwrapped into pigments of a poet’s ideal. Threads coming loose and showing within them how the other’s life would be, could be - had been. And from it, a pattern slowly began to blossom, petals slowly unveiling enlightenment to the very foundation of existence. That which all Gods kept hidden with a bitter sense of pride – for who were we to think we could take from them, the very source of what little power they still had over us. But then, much to the amusement of the same Gods, the sea begins to calm loosing its momentum and it’s fury. Waves of pleasure began to settle into a calm ripple, a shadow of the moment. And as it faded, as the moment of bliss and ecstasy faded, so did everything learned. Details becoming blurred and uncertain – nothing left but a melancholy monotone to linger in the back of the mind with a everlasting sense of ‘deju vu’ at the most random of times.

All of this, in the few seconds of a orgasm’s lifespan.

Creative interruption of Simon’s Necronomicon P.6

Exacting Revenge on an Enemy Sorcerers/Breaking a curse or hex.

A doll is made in the image of the Sorcerer/Sorceress, the Priest sets the doll on fire using conjured flames. As the dolls begin to burn, the Priest begins their chant. Incents must be lit to keep away the Idimmu, dreaded demonlike being attracted to occult operations, so that they may not try to feel off the power that is expended. The priest should summon their Watcher so that It may guard his body and property

“Arise! Great Gods! Hear my wailing!

Obtain Justice in the name of the Covenant sworn between Thee and Race of Men!

I have an image of my Sorcerer/Sorceress.

Of my enchanter/enchantress.

May their mouths be wax, their tongues honey.

The spell that they worked, may it pour away like honey.

Their knot is broken!

Their work destroyed!

It is finished.”

            The victim of the Enemy should feel their curse or hex be forced out of them in a physical manner. The enemy, and target of the Ritual, will feel the result of the ritual (if it’s successful) within three days.

Creative interruption of Simon’s Necronomicon P.5

Conjuring the Fifty Spirits of Marduk, defeater of the Ancient Ones

            A conjuring circle of evocation is drawn with red chalk. The Priest must have the Spirits seal engraved in ancient parchment, or sealed in clay. The sign is centered in a conjuring circle of evocation before performing the chant of the Ritual. Incents must be lit to keep away the Idimmu, dreaded demonlike being attracted to occult operations, so that they may not try to feel off the power that is expended. The priest should summon their Watcher so that It may guard his body and property

“Spirits of Marduk, Remember!

NAME, TITLE, Remember!

In the name of the Covenant sworn between Thee and Race of Men,

I call to Thee! By the word of thy calling! WORD! WORD! WORD!”

            As the Priest begins their chant, the Seal will either glow green (if on a parchment) or fill as though with liquid (if a clay tablet). The Seal will be engraved onto the item or person in a magic light, unseen by unmagic means.

Creative interruption of Simon’s Necronomicon P.4

Traveling into the “Ethereal” Plane. Obtaining an “Ethereal” Form.

            The Priest places twelve crystals at their feet in a circle. Each crystal represents the Zodiacal constellations or ‘fixed stars’. Two feathers are laid, crossing each other, in front of the Priest as they knee. One feather is black, representing the world unseen; the white feather represents the world seen and the power of Shamash. Incents must be lit to keep away the Idimmu, dreaded demonlike being attracted to occult operations, so that they may not try to feel off the power that is expended. The priest should summon their Watcher so that It may guard his body and property- if not, the priest must have trustworthy eyes to watch them.

“I close my eyes in the world we see…

And open my eyes in the world we don’t see.”

Visor evidence of the Ritual being successful will be not only in the fading of the black feather, and the light of the white feather, will not only be in the unmoving turns of the crystal stone, but will also be in the limp collapse of the Priest. Their body will become inhabited as they travel through the Astral world. In this world they may directly affect the physical world, and find those who may hide in it. The Priest is to not be disturbed, attempt to be awoken, or moved for it can bring death to the Priest and whoever may touch them.

Aries – Argu

Taurus - Kakkab U Alap Shame

Gemini – Re’U Kinu Shame U Tu’Ame Rabuti

Cancer – Shittu

Leo – Kalbu Rabu

Virgo – Shiru

Libra – Zibanitum

Scorpio – Akrabu

Sagittarius – Pa-Bil-Sag

Capricorn – Suxur Mash

Aquarius – Gula

Pisces – Dilgan U Riki Nuni