I feel much better.
Aug. 3rd, 2005 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ithikaAnd yet slightly compelled to write bad, clich'ed fantasy stories about haunted unicorns and corrupt maidens. Or re-write.
You know, some of my writing is quite bad. Quite bad.
I think I might write something now though. Warning: It will be unedited and probably quite bad.
I think this story will also be silly.
"I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, Mikey, the stock market runs in cycles!" Craig animatedly prodded the unoffending air with his West Australian, a gesture totally lost on poor, longsuffering Mikey, who was making contact with Craig only through a small black mobile phone.
Lowering his newspaper, the man sighed. "Look. Just don't sell until I give the say-so, alright? No matter how low those prices get." Protest could be heard from the phone's speaker - evidently Mikey had some kind of cash riding on these shares as well. "Look. How much money do I have?" Craig irritatedly hung up and went on his merry way, tie flapping irritatingly in the cheerful morning wind tunnel of St George's Terrace.
Across the way, a young Big Issue seller was staring, slackjawed, at the peak of the Bankwest tower. She rather looked to Craig like she would be screaming her innards out if she could only draw breath. Her newspapers, and morning's earnings, lay forgotten at her feet.
For no reason other than to find out if the girl was simple, Craig glanced carelessly up at the familiar tower. Red. He shrugged, walked five paces, dropped his newspaper and briefcase (contents spilling loudly on the floor), and span on his heel to stare at the Red on top of the [normally quite blue] tower.
There sat, eyeing the inhabitants of the Terrace (more and more of whom were now standing in silent, petrified awe), an immense, clearly amused, red, terrifyingly immense, dragon.
Aglarixe smirked lazily at the pompous little man-creature that had just noticed her, and reset her tail, which rasped loudly against the windows of the tower. Such was her size that her immense and glorious body, nose to tail, wrapped twice around the tower, a precarious position at best, but a suitably impressive one. Using her glorious wings to balance her, Aglarixe thought she was rather the most interesting thing to happen to this city.
"I see you are struck dumb by my resplendant beauty, puny human creature." Her deep, resonant purr ensured that any who had not yet noticed the Great Wyrm coiled about the tallest tower in the city now stopped whatever it was they were doing and turned to stare in paraplegic surprise at her towering visage.
Craig, utterly aware that the unimaginably, ridiculously huge dragon, [with fangs easily as long as he were tall] was in fact talking to him, opened his mouth like a large, hooked carp. Had he been a fish, he would have flopped around pathetically, but being a man, he simply began to disbelieve what he was seeing.
A very unwise decision.
Aglarixe raised her great frill in irritation masked with curiosity.
"Well. How rude you tiny creatures are! How unfitting is your welcome for the great Aglarixe! For this, I will destroy your city." She flipped her frill in a way that suggested flippant finality, in much the same way that a judge will say "that will do" whenever they feel like asserting a bit of their well-wielded power.
With that, she uncoiled herself from the tower, and descended to the street below.
Finding it alltogether too narrow for her liking, the great dragon let out the loudest roar she could muster, and was pleased when all the humans she could se e threw themselves to the ground in terror, and several car alarms went off.
To begin the destruction, she plucked Craig from his pitiful hiding-place [an old doorway] and tossed him into her great maw without so much as a blink.
A bit dissapointed, she then ingested a fleeing Nissan Skyline, which was much more to her liking.
With alltogether too much effort, she returned herself to the sky, and began with the carnage.
Months later, she would assert herself as God, and declare UWA her temple. Taking a liking to the funny little humans that learnt there, she made it a punishable offence to harm them, and displayed strange and lavish affection for the students, who at first treated her with terror, then slowly, with a deep and grudging respect.
In but a year, a huge granite statue of her impressive figure, wings spread, reared and roaring, would be erected in the middle of the swan river.
Perth would be invaded in coming years by all kinds of military threatery, all of which were destroyed [and sometimes ingested] by the massive [and apparantly immortal] Great Red Wyrm.
The moral of the story: Red Dragons are TEH BADASS!
You know, some of my writing is quite bad. Quite bad.
I think I might write something now though. Warning: It will be unedited and probably quite bad.
I think this story will also be silly.
"I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, Mikey, the stock market runs in cycles!" Craig animatedly prodded the unoffending air with his West Australian, a gesture totally lost on poor, longsuffering Mikey, who was making contact with Craig only through a small black mobile phone.
Lowering his newspaper, the man sighed. "Look. Just don't sell until I give the say-so, alright? No matter how low those prices get." Protest could be heard from the phone's speaker - evidently Mikey had some kind of cash riding on these shares as well. "Look. How much money do I have?" Craig irritatedly hung up and went on his merry way, tie flapping irritatingly in the cheerful morning wind tunnel of St George's Terrace.
Across the way, a young Big Issue seller was staring, slackjawed, at the peak of the Bankwest tower. She rather looked to Craig like she would be screaming her innards out if she could only draw breath. Her newspapers, and morning's earnings, lay forgotten at her feet.
For no reason other than to find out if the girl was simple, Craig glanced carelessly up at the familiar tower. Red. He shrugged, walked five paces, dropped his newspaper and briefcase (contents spilling loudly on the floor), and span on his heel to stare at the Red on top of the [normally quite blue] tower.
There sat, eyeing the inhabitants of the Terrace (more and more of whom were now standing in silent, petrified awe), an immense, clearly amused, red, terrifyingly immense, dragon.
Aglarixe smirked lazily at the pompous little man-creature that had just noticed her, and reset her tail, which rasped loudly against the windows of the tower. Such was her size that her immense and glorious body, nose to tail, wrapped twice around the tower, a precarious position at best, but a suitably impressive one. Using her glorious wings to balance her, Aglarixe thought she was rather the most interesting thing to happen to this city.
"I see you are struck dumb by my resplendant beauty, puny human creature." Her deep, resonant purr ensured that any who had not yet noticed the Great Wyrm coiled about the tallest tower in the city now stopped whatever it was they were doing and turned to stare in paraplegic surprise at her towering visage.
Craig, utterly aware that the unimaginably, ridiculously huge dragon, [with fangs easily as long as he were tall] was in fact talking to him, opened his mouth like a large, hooked carp. Had he been a fish, he would have flopped around pathetically, but being a man, he simply began to disbelieve what he was seeing.
A very unwise decision.
Aglarixe raised her great frill in irritation masked with curiosity.
"Well. How rude you tiny creatures are! How unfitting is your welcome for the great Aglarixe! For this, I will destroy your city." She flipped her frill in a way that suggested flippant finality, in much the same way that a judge will say "that will do" whenever they feel like asserting a bit of their well-wielded power.
With that, she uncoiled herself from the tower, and descended to the street below.
Finding it alltogether too narrow for her liking, the great dragon let out the loudest roar she could muster, and was pleased when all the humans she could se e threw themselves to the ground in terror, and several car alarms went off.
To begin the destruction, she plucked Craig from his pitiful hiding-place [an old doorway] and tossed him into her great maw without so much as a blink.
A bit dissapointed, she then ingested a fleeing Nissan Skyline, which was much more to her liking.
With alltogether too much effort, she returned herself to the sky, and began with the carnage.
Months later, she would assert herself as God, and declare UWA her temple. Taking a liking to the funny little humans that learnt there, she made it a punishable offence to harm them, and displayed strange and lavish affection for the students, who at first treated her with terror, then slowly, with a deep and grudging respect.
In but a year, a huge granite statue of her impressive figure, wings spread, reared and roaring, would be erected in the middle of the swan river.
Perth would be invaded in coming years by all kinds of military threatery, all of which were destroyed [and sometimes ingested] by the massive [and apparantly immortal] Great Red Wyrm.
The moral of the story: Red Dragons are TEH BADASS!