LightDancer Jenkins
New member
Have you ever had times where you finish off a piece off writing and you just stare at it, loathing yourself writing such a bad bit. Sometimes though you find that it exactly was quite a good piece of writing once you clear away your frustration from your head. Well I'm not sure if this is good or not since I've been very stressed. I think its too descriptive.
Give your options and your criticism.
I'm 13 by the way (Not lying).
Helldrid's head ached. His brain feeling like it had fallen to one side of his skull. He felt warm thick blood dripping down through his hairs on his hand; his neck was drenched in it. He had no memory of a violent fight last night, one in the fire glow where any blood split would disappear into the colors of the flames in the distance.
He opened his heavy lead eyelids and stared lazily at his strong hands. He sighed hoarsely as he saw it was dusky yellow wine dripping down onto his hand.
The excited crowds yesterday now were scattered ruins over the rock waves, sleeping in awkward uncomfortable positions. Helldrid spied Lilian weaving her way through the drunken crowd, her face looking remorseful and pitiful. She held a hand of a middle aged man, getting him to his weak legs. 'Are you alright now?' she asked in a soft supportive voice, holding his back.
'I think...so,' he stuttered hoarsely, stumbling unsteadily without her.
She turned her head towards Helldrid. DAM IT! Thought Helldrid Her growling will be even worse now I’m drunk.
'There you are!' she shouted, to Helldrid's surprise cheerfully, 'You were hiding in the crowd weren't you.'
Helldrid cursed as he tried to sit up. No use his body was heavier then lead armor, 'Maybe,' he muttered his words slurring like a snake’s hiss.
Lilian stared at him sternly, 'How much wine did you drink?' she asked, biting her lip as if regretting saying it.
Helldrid rolled his head towards her, trying to look at her enquiringly but his eyelids were too feeble, 'A bottle,' his mouth tasted like stagnant vomit as he spoke, 'Didn't-know..was it was al-ca..holic.' lying through his teeth didn't feel as painful when he was drunk; neither did hurting someone he loved......
'Sure, sure.' she laughed, hitting him over the ear like a soldier to a convict when he didn’t work hard enough.
Oh he forgot pain disappeared completely when you were drunk, he felt nothing of the strike neither of his regret, he had to keep reminding himself it was still there even if it seemed it had vanished. Maybe this was why his body was so tired and heavy, there was so much of it, weighing him down, and not even the drink could drown it all out. It could flush away terrible memories in a heartbeat, pain of a throbbing gash but no not a heart filled with this much dreadful emotion.
‘Is everything alright?’ Lilian asked her voice sounding constricted, as if a murderer had a knife to her neck.
‘Probably just the drink makes my body throb. Not used to this amount.’ He groaned with pain as he rolled over to his stomache, ‘Help me up won’t you, my bones are stiff as.’
Lilian sighed and pushed her hair from her eyes. Looking at them properly he never realized how beautiful leaf green they were; even in such a groggy state he still saw beauty in something. Usually drunkenness took that all away, hiding the most gorgeous of sights and turning them into something hideous, something that didn’t matter if it was smashed to dust. The only thing that glowed from the eyes of a drunken man full of sorrow was the wine sitting there, unoccupied. It made them laugh and sing, hiding away what they had cried over, till the morning when they knew they would be bitten harder if they had some more, a bite that would overpower the pain they already felt. But of course what’s the point of a bite till there is blood?
‘Your very vague, aren’t you.’ muttered Lilian disapprovingly, shaking her head, ‘Promise me you’ll have no more, your so uneasy.’
She pulled on his arm without him giving any effort. He was limp as a fish on dry land, air coming out as sickly wheezes, as he found it difficult to let in some more air. ‘I pro..miss.’ Helldrid finally said, his head so low to process any sound, his head so faulty.
He finally got to his feet, his stomache dropping down where it was meant to be, not its contents awaiting at his throat. He scanned over the lazy crowd awakening; their skin pale as porcelain, as if they mistook their own blood for more fine dark red wine. Handsome men awoke with the barmaids by their side, kissing them tenderly. They staggered unsteadily, avoiding the shards of glass, collecting the last drops from the wine bottles.
‘That was some ritual,’ said an old voice from behind Helldrid, ‘though I think people thought more of the drinks then the actual show itself.’ He sighed himself and approached him frontward, furrows filled with individual smiles.
Sorry s
Give your options and your criticism.
I'm 13 by the way (Not lying).
Helldrid's head ached. His brain feeling like it had fallen to one side of his skull. He felt warm thick blood dripping down through his hairs on his hand; his neck was drenched in it. He had no memory of a violent fight last night, one in the fire glow where any blood split would disappear into the colors of the flames in the distance.
He opened his heavy lead eyelids and stared lazily at his strong hands. He sighed hoarsely as he saw it was dusky yellow wine dripping down onto his hand.
The excited crowds yesterday now were scattered ruins over the rock waves, sleeping in awkward uncomfortable positions. Helldrid spied Lilian weaving her way through the drunken crowd, her face looking remorseful and pitiful. She held a hand of a middle aged man, getting him to his weak legs. 'Are you alright now?' she asked in a soft supportive voice, holding his back.
'I think...so,' he stuttered hoarsely, stumbling unsteadily without her.
She turned her head towards Helldrid. DAM IT! Thought Helldrid Her growling will be even worse now I’m drunk.
'There you are!' she shouted, to Helldrid's surprise cheerfully, 'You were hiding in the crowd weren't you.'
Helldrid cursed as he tried to sit up. No use his body was heavier then lead armor, 'Maybe,' he muttered his words slurring like a snake’s hiss.
Lilian stared at him sternly, 'How much wine did you drink?' she asked, biting her lip as if regretting saying it.
Helldrid rolled his head towards her, trying to look at her enquiringly but his eyelids were too feeble, 'A bottle,' his mouth tasted like stagnant vomit as he spoke, 'Didn't-know..was it was al-ca..holic.' lying through his teeth didn't feel as painful when he was drunk; neither did hurting someone he loved......
'Sure, sure.' she laughed, hitting him over the ear like a soldier to a convict when he didn’t work hard enough.
Oh he forgot pain disappeared completely when you were drunk, he felt nothing of the strike neither of his regret, he had to keep reminding himself it was still there even if it seemed it had vanished. Maybe this was why his body was so tired and heavy, there was so much of it, weighing him down, and not even the drink could drown it all out. It could flush away terrible memories in a heartbeat, pain of a throbbing gash but no not a heart filled with this much dreadful emotion.
‘Is everything alright?’ Lilian asked her voice sounding constricted, as if a murderer had a knife to her neck.
‘Probably just the drink makes my body throb. Not used to this amount.’ He groaned with pain as he rolled over to his stomache, ‘Help me up won’t you, my bones are stiff as.’
Lilian sighed and pushed her hair from her eyes. Looking at them properly he never realized how beautiful leaf green they were; even in such a groggy state he still saw beauty in something. Usually drunkenness took that all away, hiding the most gorgeous of sights and turning them into something hideous, something that didn’t matter if it was smashed to dust. The only thing that glowed from the eyes of a drunken man full of sorrow was the wine sitting there, unoccupied. It made them laugh and sing, hiding away what they had cried over, till the morning when they knew they would be bitten harder if they had some more, a bite that would overpower the pain they already felt. But of course what’s the point of a bite till there is blood?
‘Your very vague, aren’t you.’ muttered Lilian disapprovingly, shaking her head, ‘Promise me you’ll have no more, your so uneasy.’
She pulled on his arm without him giving any effort. He was limp as a fish on dry land, air coming out as sickly wheezes, as he found it difficult to let in some more air. ‘I pro..miss.’ Helldrid finally said, his head so low to process any sound, his head so faulty.
He finally got to his feet, his stomache dropping down where it was meant to be, not its contents awaiting at his throat. He scanned over the lazy crowd awakening; their skin pale as porcelain, as if they mistook their own blood for more fine dark red wine. Handsome men awoke with the barmaids by their side, kissing them tenderly. They staggered unsteadily, avoiding the shards of glass, collecting the last drops from the wine bottles.
‘That was some ritual,’ said an old voice from behind Helldrid, ‘though I think people thought more of the drinks then the actual show itself.’ He sighed himself and approached him frontward, furrows filled with individual smiles.
Sorry s