♥Fearless♥ wrote:♥Fearless♥ wrote:Future Champion wrote:"Um excuse me. Would any of you lovely ladies want to practice with me?" He asked softly.
((Tori and Victoria are the same people. It's just Victoria's nickname.))
"Sure!" Alex said excitedly and looked over at her sister. "What about you?" She asked her.
"I don't know, but I'll come anyway" Victoria said.
"Should we get our horses?" Alex asked the guy, looking up at him on his horse. He's cute! She thought to herself.
"Al! Stop drooling!" Victoria said and slapped her sister on the arm.
"Ow! What the heck was that for?" Alex said, glaring at her sister.
"Stop staring!" Victoria whispered.
((Lol, just had to do that! And why do I keep on calling Alex Ally!?))
(Re-posting this))
(Hey fearless. Can I make a son for Hades? Being crowded with three daughters is a pain, but I wouldn't know that, I'd have to ask my dad cause he has three kids and all of us are girls.)
"Thats cool with me, if anyone would like to train on horse back then I'm game for it." Bryce said with a small smile. He looked at all three girls and then patted Legendary Fire on the neck. Legendary Fire threw his head up as if he said he was up for some training as well. Bryce looked at Alex and smiled. His eyes sparkled in the sun. The sun had just hit them right. Bright baby blue eyes with a bit of light green in them. 'Alex is really cute. What do I do if I say something stupid?' He grunted and then got off of Legendary FIre and walked over to the other and then said "I'm Bryce Carson and its a B-r-y-c-e."
____________
Stormy looked up and then walked to the stables and grabbed Butterfly and placed all of her tack on her. She looked around and then got on Butterfly and then swiftly rode her out of the stables. She stopped at her cabin only to get on thing. She ran into her cabin quickly and grabbed her sword and one of her fathers poems he had writen. She read others many times, but she had never read this one. It was differnet than the other and yet she loved it, like she loved her father, even though she had never knew him. So she read:
Insufficient
To look upon the face of a god,
that is the great mystery,
to fall into such a vision…
to be fixed by the immortal gaze…
Were it that I could paint as I wanted,
I could show you the god who wields
a bow of fire to rain down razor-arrows
from the heavens,
whose touch burns as it heals and whose
sight is second to none.
Whose voice is menacing silk
to the ears of his follower,
uttering terrible prophecy and tossing out
impossible riddles as casually as one
might mention the weather.
And I could show you a god who shines, blinding,
and smolders darkly at once:
The ancient face of youth, perfected and placed on a pedestal
Who grieves as though the world were to end
and meets petty insults with death.
I could show you the god of gold
who dwells in a temple of crystal
perched precariously on a mountain of ice
high above the world.
The wolf and the swan, both,
heed when he speaks- he is one of them
their forms are his forms too.
And there are his eyes, a color you cannot see to name,
whose gaze you cannot meet- or cannot remember meeting-
shadows behind the light,
in the eyes which cannot be met, here he holds all the secrets,
the answers to all questions never asked.
If I could paint as I want,
I could show you every flippant proclamation,
every blatant riddle,
each death, and life preserved,
each wound healed;
the blinding darkness, the obscured light,
the burning touch of his flame-covered hands.
But I cannot paint in blood or fire,
cannot draw with crystal or death.
No canvas vast enough exists
to contain such beauty and terror
and rage and grief, such feeling, as his.
So this will have to do.
I must apologize:
it will never suffice.
"Thats cool with me, if anyone would like to train on horse back then I'm game for it." Bryce said with a small smile. He looked at all three girls and then patted Legendary Fire on the neck. Legendary Fire threw his head up as if he said he was up for some training as well. Bryce looked at Alex and smiled. His eyes sparkled in the sun. The sun had just hit them right. Bright baby blue eyes with a bit of light green in them. 'Alex is really cute. What do I do if I say something stupid?' He grunted and then got off of Legendary FIre and walked over to the other and then said "I'm Bryce Carson and its a B-r-y-c-e."
____________
Stormy looked up and then walked to the stables and grabbed Butterfly and placed all of her tack on her. She looked around and then got on Butterfly and then swiftly rode her out of the stables. She stopped at her cabin only to get on thing. She ran into her cabin quickly and grabbed her sword and one of her fathers poems he had writen. She read others many times, but she had never read this one. It was differnet than the other and yet she loved it, like she loved her father, even though she had never knew him. So she read:
Insufficient
To look upon the face of a god,
that is the great mystery,
to fall into such a vision…
to be fixed by the immortal gaze…
Were it that I could paint as I wanted,
I could show you the god who wields
a bow of fire to rain down razor-arrows
from the heavens,
whose touch burns as it heals and whose
sight is second to none.
Whose voice is menacing silk
to the ears of his follower,
uttering terrible prophecy and tossing out
impossible riddles as casually as one
might mention the weather.
And I could show you a god who shines, blinding,
and smolders darkly at once:
The ancient face of youth, perfected and placed on a pedestal
Who grieves as though the world were to end
and meets petty insults with death.
I could show you the god of gold
who dwells in a temple of crystal
perched precariously on a mountain of ice
high above the world.
The wolf and the swan, both,
heed when he speaks- he is one of them
their forms are his forms too.
And there are his eyes, a color you cannot see to name,
whose gaze you cannot meet- or cannot remember meeting-
shadows behind the light,
in the eyes which cannot be met, here he holds all the secrets,
the answers to all questions never asked.
If I could paint as I want,
I could show you every flippant proclamation,
every blatant riddle,
each death, and life preserved,
each wound healed;
the blinding darkness, the obscured light,
the burning touch of his flame-covered hands.
But I cannot paint in blood or fire,
cannot draw with crystal or death.
No canvas vast enough exists
to contain such beauty and terror
and rage and grief, such feeling, as his.
So this will have to do.
I must apologize:
it will never suffice.
