Wednesday, 31 July 2013

Castle in the air

She's keeping it all together,
Tied so tight,
She's about to burst,
The skin taut against her,
Burgeoning memories,
Of yesterdays and twilight regrets,
Things she should have done,
Would have done,
That wrong someone,
The nights she spent,
Scarring her arms,
And stealing the life out of herself,
With endless baths,
And midnight drinking,
In the soapy water filled with lavender,
That never helped to settle her,
Trying to drown,
But never really getting there,
Smoking in rings,
That never quite settle,
The crumbling bricks,
With which she built,
Her castle in the air.

~Rei Shiori

Tuesday, 30 July 2013

The truth

In the quiet,
She rubs a weary hand,
Across dusty eyes,
Dry lips,
Scorched with speaking,
The truth that burned her,
And everything she knew,
To dust and ashes,
But she remains standing,
In the midst of the desert,
That was once her life.

~Rei Shiori

Monday, 29 July 2013

Not tonight

She sinks a little lower than before,
A little closer,
To the underground trapdoor,
Fling away her dignity,
And all else besides,
Her clothes lie,
In crumpled heaps,
As on the bed,
She reclines,
Not alone,
Not tonight.

~Rei Shiori

Sunday, 28 July 2013


I await your touch,
When has it become,
So superficial,
This meeting of us?

~Rei Shiori

Saturday, 27 July 2013

The girl playing dominoes

Her eyes flit by,
A single,
Shuttered glance,
In an instant,
The sunlight,
Streaming in,
Picking out highlights,
In her ebony hair,
The shiny lustre,
Like the back of a crow's wing,
She smiles,
And I fall,
Like the dominoes,
Beneath the manicured perfection,
Of her slim fingered hands.

~Rei Shiori

Friday, 26 July 2013

Distorted truth

Endless words,
Inked black and blue,
Run through my veins,
They came from you,
I press the memory,
A gentle nudge,
The flow subsides,
But to stop the time,
It's impossible,
My shoulders hunch,
Beneath the weight,
Of your many lies,
Cut my wrists,
They bleed the lines,
Like bad poetry,
Running in endless loops,
I play with them repeatedly,
The letters run,
Like miniature troops,
Scattering across the blank sheets,
As I remember you,
And begin to write,
The distorted truth.

~Rei Shiori

Thursday, 25 July 2013

Keep breathing

Some dreams come true,
When you're not even looking,
So breathe,
The shadows don't last,
You'll find love one day,
And this time it will really be 'us',
No more excuses,
No more broken trust,
Fairytales start with bitter beginnings,
But only the strong make it to the story's ending,
Our happy ever afters,
Will come one day,
If we make it through today,
Keep breathing,
He's going to love your smile,
More than the other ever did,
And he'll hold you closer,
Protect you with every heart beat,
Sure he won't be on a white charger,
Not even a car,
But who cares,
As long as he's not another,
Like the ones before,
Chin up,
Keep living,
Keep your dreams alive,
Fight for what you believe in,
One day he'll fall in love,
Not with a damsel in distress,
Not another girl bound to just be a mistress,
He'll fall for your heart,
And the passion you hold,
He'll fall for you,
And when he comes,
You'll know.

~Rei Shiori

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

Happy ever after?

She lifts away the mask,
Layer after layer,
After layer,
Her soul once bright,
Now caked with dust,
The colour of night,
Too dry to weep,
Too tired to sleep,
Away the days,
That used to draw her into the laughter,
Where was her happy ever after?

~Rei Shiori

Tuesday, 23 July 2013


She stands in the back yard,
Her face to the setting sun,
I come up behind her,
We embrace,
And are one,
For the moment,
We forget,
The world around us.

~Rei Shiori

Monday, 22 July 2013

Reminiscing your life....and death

Letters strewn,
Across the dusty table,
Satin bows,
That used,
To hold our hearts together,
The dusky pinks,
And baby blues,
That marked our conversations,
With pretty bows,
And precious words,
The scent of you still lingers,
Here in the creased sheets,
Of yellowed papers,
I look back on our life,
And the portrait of you,
On the side of the bed,
Where you used to be.

~Rei Shiori

Sunday, 21 July 2013

Loss of love

How many hearts break tonight,
Living alone,
A hollow in time,
Where memories of them used to be,
That empty coldness,
Next to you in bed,
The quiet tears,
That drip through the fabric,
Of a torn heart,
Freezing pain,
Into a soul,
That mourns the loss,
Of love.

~Rei Shiori

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Ice princess

Icy fingers tingling,
Up and down,
Bare hollows,
And curved sculptured bones,
Between your shoulders,
And that arch of your hips,
Your lips,
Misting as we touch,
Fingers to your smile,
Breaths coming,
In mists,
As they kiss,
Skin to skin,
The blood flowing back to,
My frozen heart,
You break these cold walls,
That have set me apart,
You hold within your hands,
An ice princess' heart.

~Rei Shiori

Friday, 19 July 2013

In the forest

There are some stories,
I cannot speak,
Eyes wide open,
I dream,
The echoes of your feet,
That traipse across time,
Into the mind,
That is mine,
So many I still cannot release,
Forgive me this once,
My soul heads for the never ending forests,
Respite in the dark shadows of the trees.

~Rei Shiori

Thursday, 18 July 2013

Hidden memories

Cheek to cheek,
Your breath misting,
Hot on my skin,
My hair on your shoulder,
A black silken sweep,
I watch you as you sleep,
And wonder if your dreams tonight,
Take you beyond my reach,
Into the dimming twilight,
Of memories,
That you hidden,

~Rei Shiori

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

The Red Room Revisited - Part 4

Her skin was a beautiful smooth mocha colour that contrasted with her flaming waves of hair. Flashy, for a pyromage but it suited her perfectly. She eyed me warily as she nursed a thigh wound. Several other gashes bled freely, the trickles of blood running down runners legs that were slim and shapely from years of assassin training. 

Felice knelt before her and murmured a word I could not hear before pressing her palms flat on both the assassin’s thighs. The mocha-skinned girl hissed through her teeth, her amethyst eyes slitting in pain. When she was done, Felice stood and walked to the pitcher that stood nearby and poured a glass of amber liquid. Herbs, from the smell of it as it wafted past me. Chamomile, honey, rose and a few others to help her heal and sleep. There would be poppy seeds as well, I knew. 

Finally she turned to face me, her eyes hardened to a blue that reminded me of shards of ice. Not just pretty; deadly. Normally I would have retreated under that sort of glare but past altercations with my mother had taught me better. You don't run from a barking dog. At least not till the fangs come out.

“See what happens to my best assassin when I meddle in your Timekeeper affairs?” she demanded. 

I did not flinch. “I will pay.” I replied smoothly.

Let her think me heartless, but I had to get to the bottom of this mess before my mother did and dug up half the city looking for a killer she did not know. There were many things I wish I had not waited for her to make a decision for. Many actions she had taken that I had despised but had no choice. I have had people hate me for the orders I carried out. No longer would I bear the brunt of the consequences of her selfish actions. I had my hunch and told her. She ignored me. Now others have paid the price. I was no longer a child, nor was I her pet. She had long decided that the tall, stately Ixora from the neighbouring city would make a better heir of her citadel. I had given up hope of pleasing her with obedience. A flash of Imelda’s tears made my heart squeeze for a moment before I settled my emotions. I still had obligations. 

Felice continued glaring at me as if I would go up in flames from the heat of her stare alone. I had no doubt I would if she lost control, but that was the problem of dealing with pyromages. You never know when you might be playing with fire. 

“What familiar does your ‘father’ possess that he can damage my top assassins?” she asked indignantly. 

I realized her pride had been hurt more than her assassin had been. The girl continued trying to staunch the now-drying trickle of blood and ignored my gaze. 

“A gryphon.” I replied without looking at Felice. 

“My father is a warlock and he owns a gryphon.” 

The curse that rebounded off the walls of the private chamber made me glad it was away from the general populace of Undergrounders who would probably have taken a huge offense and started a riot.

~Rei Shiori

Tuesday, 16 July 2013

Unwanted heart

I would never be the perfect lover,
Insecure and bitter,
The short decades,
Had eaten away at my heart,
And the pieces that remained,
Were always scattered,
Too far apart,
That nobody wanted to retrieve them,
Nobody wanted something so damaged,
So nobody knew where to start,
I was left alone,
With my fragments and shards,
I was just another unwanted heart.

~Rei Shiori

Monday, 15 July 2013

June and July from my little fishbowl view

June and July have been pretty good to me in almost every way. So here's a list of the wonderful things that have been going on in my hectic life for these 2 short months (July isn't really over yet, I know). Might be boring, but hey:

It's my blog and I can post if I want to,
Post if I want to, post if I want to,
You would post to if it happened to you.
~sung to the tune of Lesley Gore's "It's my party"
So let's start off with all the events and things I have to be thankful for. Drumroll please.....
  • I've met new friends and gotten to know new (Ok, maybe not so new) neighbours.
  • Went out for many hang out sessions with old buddies.

  • Shopped to my heart's content and gotten everything at a lower price than usual (Yay for sales and thrift shops!) and managed to get some of the things that have been on my wardrobe basics list for ages. (cat shirts, garnet cardigan, vintage long skirts in denim and some flowy material I have yet to figure out but love to bits, pale lemon yellow skorts, a midnight blue short skirt that reminds me of anime Japanese uniforms, Cotton On faux snakeskin belt and a neon orange belt, tie-front summer blouses in 4 colours, a new black and faux leather backpack, denim vest, birdie earrings in black and white, some other pieces of random jewellery, coloured faux hair clip on thingies in garnet and amethyst)

  • Received a parcel from a dear friend (Still don't have the heart to use them, they're so pretty) who bonded over writing and this very blog I'm posting in. There was a bunch of goodies inside (awesome vintage notebook, bookmarks, bookworm loves) but the best part about the whole thing was actually the letter, which although short, is very very much appreciated.

  • Finished all my midterm exams and managed to get a wee bit of rest.
  • Also managed to spend some time with my love although that was really limited considering we have such a horribly heavy workload, but hey, I'm not complaining. Time together is time together, every second still counts.

Unfortunately, June and July have had their fair share of sad events.

  • One of which being my dear, trusty old handphone being lost on the 24th of June.
  • Secondly, a dear pair of (Yeah, it's dear because of who bought it for me *Hi, Mummy!* and the price) socks that went missing in the laundry and never resurfaced (so far, fingers crossed it will) yet.
  • Third would probably be my fridge going MIA on me. Don't ask, I'm still pissed about the whole issue and the idiots who caused it.

It's been good in June so here's to an even better July! Cheers!
Hope everyone is doing great. Feel free to drop a comment if anyone wants to share any good news (or bad, it's good to let it all out sometimes).

Sunday, 14 July 2013

The Courtyard - Part 3

July showers,
Dreary grey skies,
Another life passes on,
Another piece of memory,
And time,

Chaos takes another step closer.

The courtyard was exceptionally frigid that morning. But it was to be expected, I thought as I walked with my head down and hood covering most of my features. After all, the weather was supposed to be in mourning for Imelda’s father and since it was under the control of the Timekeepers it only made sense that everything followed their moods and whims. A puddle reflected a person who was not actually there. His gaunt face shimmered as the raindrops hit the surface of the murky water. 

“Sir Esmond, greetings beyond time.” I nodded at the general direction of the puddle. 

The reflection smiled, albeit grimly, as a whispery voice, like the rustle of parchment crept into my mind. 

“My condolences on your untimely death.” I replied to his greeting. 

Even beyond the veil of death, Timekeepers were a strictly polite lot I thought to myself with a morbid laugh. Esmond’s reflection shimmered again just before I managed to ask who his murderer was and he was gone in a scattered spray of raindrops.

Coincidence? I hoped so, considering that even the weather was controlled by the Timekeepers. An inkling of doubt about the innocence of my fellow Timekeepers was quickly banished as the storm began to pick up speed and whirl about my head, whipping my cloak open and thoroughly drenching me. Perhaps they could sense traitorous thoughts. I was not taking any chances.

The journey to Felice’s underground room was short and uneventful. I supposed I should have been thankful for that, but for some reason unknown to me, I had a premonition that the news she had for me would not be very pleasant. 

I weaved my way between the Undergrounders grinding in a fairy drug-induced euphoric haze and stopped before the quieter area of the club. The mahogany wood door to her private chamber was painted over the edges in silver melted and dripped in pretty trails reminiscent of raindrops. Or if I were to give in to my more morbid side: drops of blood dripping down the wood. 

They were not entirely ornamental since werewolves were known to get a little too frisky around the club and Felice was rather pretty for a pyromage. Most pyromages were old and had the nastiest tempers out of the whole lot of us magic users. 

Before I could raise my fist to knock on the wood, the door swung open and Felice stood on the threshold clad in nothing but a thin red silk kimono nightgown that floated about her in a gust of desert wind. Her hair remained in the same wavy style with the flame clip, except that now garnets and fire opals decorated the edges of the flame. Her eyes were a brilliant indigo-blue today and my suspicions were confirmed; she was in a terrible mood. 

“Tell me, Ren. Is it a family thing to be immune to assassins?” she almost hissed at me before grabbing my forearm in a pinching grip and dragging me inside. 

The door to my safe, drowsy morning closed with a bang that I swear could be heard all the way to the Upperground.

~Rei Shiori

Saturday, 13 July 2013

I am the wanderer

I am the wanderer,
I travel in light,
In darkness,
My shadows,
Stretch out,
Left and right,
I walk through the darkness,
The valley of fear,
I walk through waters that sparkle,
And mire that,
To my legs still smear,
I am the wanderer,
There is no road I will fear.

~Rei Shiori

Friday, 12 July 2013

Writing pain

Writing in quiet,
She begins her own journey,
Deep within,
The heart she,
Never knew she had,
And the mind,
That was always,
Constantly sad,
As her tears fall,
To the bleached white sheets,
Her memories stir,
The frozen heart beats,
She cries for a past long gone,
Cries for herself,
Too long being so strong,
The tears bleed,
Black floods of ink,
She cries and she cries,
But the words,
They don't stop coming,
The men she loved,
The places she's been,
The friends she's lost,
The people who made her,
Into the ice queen,
Relentless the rain beats,
At the window panes,
Heaven is crying she writes,
With faltering hand,
Guided by all the saints,
Intent on letting her pain,
Drip away into,
The lines between her pain,
Put into writing.

~Rei Shiori

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Hold my hand

Hold my hand,
While you still can,
Day by day,
I fade away,
Into the trickling snow,
Fading into,
Heaven's teardrops,
Going down in rivulets,
On the cold panes,
Of your window,
I close my eyes,
With these sinner's hands,
And weep,
For the times I've spent.

~Rei Shiori

Wednesday, 10 July 2013

Ripple Effect ( a Beginning continuation)

Present Day in Scorpio
 Arianna stretched lazily on the chaise lounge as her best friend Velaria went through the sea of dresses in front of them hoping to find one to wear to the upcoming Massacre Ball. If Velaria hadn’t forcefully woken her up that morning, she wouldn’t be in an over-priced boutique finding a gown that no one would notice her in and attending a ball she had no interest in whatsoever. She had nothing against the ball in general. The main point of having the ball was to remind Nocturnes of the war that had nearly wiped out their existence almost eight hundred years ago. But the ball wasn’t something she felt comfortable attending.
Some of the people attending were nice enough through her experience but others had ulterior motives to attend the ball. Motives like trying to meet people with high status just to close a business deal. She couldn’t blame them; the business world was a cruel and cut-throat one, from what she observed from her father’s work. She felt that her father’s job was a tiring and lonely one that forced him to maintain a fa├žade in front of his rivals and never be generous with his trust. However, she could see the joy carved onto his face when a business deal went his way or when he stood at the grand opening of his latest building. Three years ago she would have had a choice of attending or passing by the event but since her twin Gabriel passed away, she had to appear alongside her family for public functions such as the Massacre Ball to show others that they were still strong as a family in  light of Gabriel’s death. Or so her grandfather said.
‘Ari, did you listen to a word I said?’ Velaria’s hand paused on the dresses she was browsing through to look at her childhood friend. When it was obvious by the blank look that covered her face that Arianna had not, she discarded her previous thread of conversation and cunningly switched the topic. The one of many that she knew Arianna dreaded when it came to the ball. ‘Ari, who’s escorting you to the ball?’ The muscle in Arianna’s jaw tensed for a moment and her eyes shifted away from her friend’s face. Velaria knew her well enough to know what those little gestures meant. In this case, it meant she hadn’t bothered finding one.
‘I knew you would be like this.’ Velaria exclaimed with a huff. ‘I told you before Ari, you need a date or an escort for the ball. You can’t just show up alone with no one by your side.’ she argued.
Arianna didn’t bother to shift her gaze as she addressed Velaria, ’Why not? There are other guests who show up by themselves without any escort and I don’t see anyone ridiculing them.’
'Well, they’re not ridiculed but people will label them as defective, unattractive, pathetic. The Nocturne society can be pretty cruel at times.’ Velaria voiced the last part with empathy. When her uncle had a financial crisis which subsequently affected her entire family, the people who she once called friends avoided her like the plague. 
She spent an entire year in high school sneaking her lunch into the library to avoid the outright looks of prejudice and snide remarks from her peers. The only person who stood by her through thick and thin was Arianna. Despite what others thought of her, Arianna was the only one who didn’t abandon her to a life of solitude. Thankfully, the next year her father managed to restore their family to its former glory although some still thought them lower. And what do you know, people started to approach her claiming to be friends and saying that they hadn’t meant to shun her the year before. The most common excuse was ‘the majority of the student body did it, so we just followed them’. That just pushed her anger meter to the limit. Didn’t they have their own will? Or could they not think for themselves? Were their brains so impossibly pea-sized that they hadn’t thought past the ranks and status of an individual to see their true self?
Since then, Velaria had become more cautious of the people around her and who she considered to be true friends.  Experience had thought her that it was always wise to be wary, even of sweet words and seemingly good intentions. Here in the Nocturne society, sweet words were often poison coated with honey, sweet but deadly.  She mentally shook herself and tried to blank out the bitter memory and instead, focus on the matter at hand.
‘Do you want me to find you a date, as well?’ Velaria offered. Arianna’s face totally drained of any of any colour as she remembered the last time she had allowed her dear friend set her up on a blind date. Velaria had known that she would never have agreed to the idea of a blind date in the first place, and so the ever crafty Velaria came up with a tried and tested plan to lure her into the trap.
 Velaria had told her that they would meet up for dinner at a posh restaurant just around the corner. However, all was not as Arianna had imagined when she reached the restaurant. Instead of a slim-figured brunette, she was greeted by a sturdy gentleman with blond hair.He had the most charming smile that somehow still managed to make her skin crawl at the sight of it and impeccable manners right out of a fairytale. She dismissed the creepy feeling he gave her as nerves and truly tried to make it a wonderful experience despite silently cursing Velaria and promising to make her pay for setting up the trap. However by the end of the dinner date, she was so bored by his conversations and monotonous, droning voice that she very nearly felt like pulling out strands and eventually chunks of her hair just to pass time. She would have gladly pulled out all of her gloriously lush mane just to be rid of her date.
‘I think I’ll pass on the offer but thanks anyway.’ Arianna swiftly replied with a shudder as she came back to the present with Velaria glaring almost impatiently at her. She wouldn’t dare risk another episode of the disaster date. However, she would need to find a date soon if she was going to get Velaria off her back. She was nothing if not persistent. ‘Ari, the ball is two weeks away. Most of the guests would have already picked their dates by now. And would you show some enthusiasm towards the ball? Your family is hosting it this year after all. At least come look for a gown.’ Velaria sighed as she continued combing through the dresses feverishly.
‘You act as if you are unaware of my hatred for these frivolous things. Shopping for dresses is just so…so… troublesome to say the least. I think I’ll just let you choose my dress this year.’ Arianna sighed and slumped back against the chair while wriggling her shoulders deeper into the plush seat.
by S.Dawn & R.Shiori

This time

Our song's playing on the loop,
While we're lying here,
Just making silly faces,
Me enjoying my time with you,
Does it matter that you'll never look,
Perfectly alright?
Am I supposed to let society,
Make my choices,
Who I love,
Who stays by my side?
Because if it's you,
I don't want to be right,
I know it sounds so cliche,
But this time,
I swear I'm going to try,
Not to screw it up,
This time.

~Rei Shiori

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

Thoughts on a baby

Circling ever lower,
I see that thought on your brow,
As always,
When there is something,
A thought,
Perhaps hovering around,
And you turn to me,
With your mouth,
In that curiously shaped 'O',
Then burble and giggle,
Blowing bubbles out of spittle,
Ah babies,
What do they know.

~Rei Shiori

Monday, 8 July 2013


Back and forth,
The terms and numbers go,
Drive us insane,
We seem to be studying,
At a pace far too slow,
Books and numbers,
And files and notes,
Too much to study,
Can't handle the load.

~Rei Shiori

Sunday, 7 July 2013

The Red Room - Part 2

I laughed at the formality. Isolde was my mother’s name. The thought of her brought a bitter taste to my mouth, the coffee’s smoky taste turning to wormwood on my tongue. I wasn’t sure how many people knew about our rocky family relationship but I sure wasn’t going to start a family tree debate right here in the Underground. Information could be easily misused and I hardly knew who to trust anymore.

“I’m Rendell. Just Ren will do.” 

I watched as she nodded and took another sip of her drink, the streaks of colour tinging her face an eerie pale blue. The colour of the drowned. I shuddered and pretended to draw my cloak closer to hide my sudden movement. 

“As I said, what brings you here, Ren?” she asked again. 

I thought about the way we had found the body just this morning, at dawn to be precise. The creepy silence that descended among the members of the Circle of Timekeepers was broken by the single cry from one of us. I would know that voice anywhere. 

Imelda was barely held in check by two other Timekeepers as we discovered the body of her father, my future father-in-law. I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t discover his murderer despite all the efforts to turn back the time in the shadows of that grand hall with its onyx pillars shot through with gold. So here I was, to find help. I looked back at her, the great pyromage, Felice. She raised a dark silver brow at me and cocked her head back as she knocked down the rest of her drink in one shot. “Let’s head to my room. More privacy that way.” she muttered as she slipped off the bar stool in one fluid motion. I followed the train of her dress that emitted tiny sparks of flame as she moved swiftly to the back of the club, the dancers scrambling out of her way to avoid being burned. What had I gotten myself into, I sighed inwardly.

I sat awkwardly on the edge of the plush love seat that mirrored Felice’s seat across the carved mahogany table. I felt rather exposed without my cloak around my shoulders, the soft, worn warmth of its dark folds that normally hid me from the world were temporarily removed and hung from a hook in the shape of a lion with its fangs bared in a growl. The room Felice had led me to resembled a drawing room in the Victorian style that was popular among most Undergrounders. Anywhere else I would have considered it tacky, but here it seemed natural to have walls panelled with dark wood that gleamed in the soft light of numerous candles that lined the walls in a sort of wave pattern that were actually patterns of bloody waves on the wallpaper. Everything in the room was a different warm colour ranging from the palest orange to the darkest, bloodiest red. It was like sitting in the heart of a garnet.

“Tell me everything.” she commanded as she draped her long legs along the velvet footstool that sat near her couch. 

I glanced up at her tone. Timekeepers were generally treated with more respect. We commanded the common folk and not the other way round. Even if Felice were one of the best, she had no right and it would have been punishable by Underground law. But this was no time to be fussy about such formalities and stiff rules. I had a job to perform. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the questions that were sure to come. Felice did not take things lightly.

“I need you to assassinate someone.” I replied levelly. 

Her eyes widened from their normal cat-eyed glance, the pupils enlarging, the black overpowering the ice blue for a moment. 

“Who exactly are we talking about?” she tried to keep her voice casual as she played with a small tongue of flame that constantly shifted from her knuckles to the tips of her fingers.

“My father.”

 ~Rei Shiori

Saturday, 6 July 2013

Welcome to the Underground - Part 1

In midnight hour,
She rings the bell,
Time has reversed itself,
Nothing seems wrong,
But still,
Something is not well,
To find the key,
She goes underground,
To find the key from hell,
Let Chaos begin.
She had wavy silver hair in a tousled bob that just barely brushed the ridge of her bony shoulders and the phrase inked in black stood out between her shoulder blades. I am the architect of my own destruction. Ironic really, considering that she was one of the most well-known pyromages in the Underground and pyromages were known to self-combust at times.

In one hand she casually held a goblet of the iridescent liquid that flashed shades of blue and orange, swirling it round and round while watching the colours burst against each other and forming vermillion and cobalt blue streaks against the surface of the crystalline goblet. Dragon’s breath, strong stuff I would normally never consider touching myself. It gave you a high that would last for days, but when you came crashing back down to earth, it hurt like hellfire roasting you from the insides. I’d never thought of it, but that was probably how it got its name.

I approached her cautiously, but from the glint in her ice-blue eyes, she had already felt me coming even before I settled myself on the stool next to her. Around us, smoke wafted in lazy circles and clouds that hid some of the club’s patrons and some newbie party-goers from view. A flash of wing or horns that curled high into the air was not uncommon. This was the Underground after all. 

I ordered a shot of normal human gin and it slipped down my throat like a line of liquid fire. Still less potent than what she was having. She had turned away, her hair brushed behind one ear and clipped with a golden pin in the shape of flames. The black and silver ensemble she wore showed off most of her back. Lots of shimmering black fabric dipping to the small of her back and back up to both shoulders. Still the single tattoo imprinted into the skin between her shoulder blades stood out in sharply. I wondered if she had some spell cast into its making, it kept on drawing my attention back to her back, pardon the pun. 

After several minutes of me nursing a cup of coffee and the bartender shooting daggers at me for refusing his Fairy Trip special that sparkled suspiciously, she turned around. Ice blue eyes met my own and she narrowed hers. 

“Rather unusual ones you have.” she remarked with a hint of curiosity in her velvety voice. 

Pale lips to the rim of the goblet, then a smile directed at me. I took my time answering her. Pyromages had notoriously fiery tempers as per their power. 

“I’m a Timekeeper. Wolf clan,” I replied dryly “hence the weird copper-gold eyes.” 

She nodded and continued sipping at her drink. Her fingers were long and callused, the nails a few shades darker than her eyes. At the present, the left hand ones tapped out a steady rhythm to the bass of the music blaring around the hall. Her eyes scanned my clothing, the insignia pinned to the front of my constellation cloak and back to my face.

“What brings you here to us common folk, Timekeeper Isolde?”

~Rei Shiori

Friday, 5 July 2013

Final breath

In the final moments,
Each quiet breath,
Echoes in the thickening silence,
I did not mean to leave you alone,
Forgiveness is hard to ask,
When you are gone.

~Rei Shiori


Good day to you all who have followed this blog so far. This is Selene and if you've notice I've been posting about an idea for a story titled The Beginning.So far I've managed to revealed to you about 2 pages. For all of you that have enjoyed it, look forward to the rest that will be heading to the blog soon. From now on just look out for ( a Beginning  continuation) and you'll know it's part of the story. It's still a work in progess and since I'm a full time student it will take some time to complete the idea but hopefully I can see it through.

See you in the next chapter ^_^

Thursday, 4 July 2013

Running from the past

She keeps running,
Away from a past,
That has always had,
One cold hand over her shoulder,
Breathing into her dreams,
Whispered reminders,
Of who she was,
And everything she has lost,
The road leading nowhere,
She knows it's as futile,
As trying to light a fire in the snow,
But they will not let her go.

~Rei Shiori

Wednesday, 3 July 2013


Whether the days were long,
I did not know,
My eyes turned unseeing,
From the bedding on the floor,
We made our home,
To the hallways,
Deserted now,
Where you used to roam,
And I,
Clutch the quilt a little tighter,
To hear again,
Your voice,
In the background,
The raindrops falling,
To the streets below,
The gentle patter,
Of your laugh,
Against the marrow of my bones,
Caressing touch,
Your fingers,
Tracing my collar bones,
Fingers cool as the stones,
That lay beneath our feet,
That January morning,
When we walked down to the beach,
To hear the echoing,
Thunderous crashing,
Waves overlapping,
And we like children,
Listened to the calling stirring within us,
The call of the sea to our spirit,
In the darkest hours before dawn,
Eyes close,
Lost in memory,
Of skin,
And warmth,
Imprinting forever,
The scent,
Of silken skin against skin,
Hot breaths misting the air,
In between,
Cool linen sheets,
I remember,
Even with eyes unseeing,
The way the sun,
Used to make you glow,
As it peeked just so,
Over the top of the window,
Your hair a darkened halo,
That gave your face,
That serenity,
Only seen on marble angels,
On mornings filled with snow,
And the world is hushed,
With the love for you,
That I now crush,
Into a tight writhing ball,
Of unspoken loss,
And sorrow.

~Rei Shiori

Waiting for You

Grant me peace for my weary soul,
Sleepless nights grow ever old,
Draining sanity in exchange for gold,
Will you always be this cold?

Here I lay waiting for you,
With nothing else
But nightmares to keep me company,
Till the night you choose to return,
And embrace me evermore.


Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Turbulent night

They begin tumbling through my head,
Unfinished thoughts,
Random memories,
Words that sting,
Scars that bled,
Now crusted over,
With thin ice,
Delicately volatile,
Sharp edges that glint,
Palely in the darkness,
Of a mind long twisted,
From days of endless fury,
And frustrations,
To nights of self-mutilations,
Drifting through the haze,
Speeding through life,
As I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my soul no longer has to weep.

~Rei Shiori

Monday, 1 July 2013

Over you

Once her tears,
Would have torn jagged holes,
Into her patchwork heart,
Screaming inside,
But outside,
Just clutching at the handkerchief,
He left for her,
A little closer,
To her,
It is the only part,
She has left,
Now she looks at him smiling,
With her in his arms,
Turns to her own,
Love that made all the difference,
One touch,
He heals every broken piece,
Every jagged scar.

~Rei Shiori