Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 20:58:33 GMT
~FLEUR~
(Best viewed on a computer.)
(Best viewed on a computer.)
❝It was around ten o'clock as Fleur woke up that Saturday morning, and the dawn fog had already scattered. The first thing she noticed was the time, which read 10:13. Usually being a morning pony herself, this surprised her quite a lot. The next thing she noticed was the sun, which was shinning brightly on the soft green grass of her front yard. It looked warm, and cozy, but it didn't look like it belonged, as it was only February. She shook her head, the weather ponies really needed to get their act together. She then thought, however, that it was quite close to March, and so she let it slide.
She threw the blankets off her and hopped out of bed, straight to her bamboo plant growing in her bedroom. She watered it, then turned to head out into her living room and kitchen for breakfast. Flour grabbed an apple and while eating, she thought about what to do on this warm Saturday. Ah she thought as she spotted a blank scroll. Maybe I should start a new story She finished the last of her apple and grabbed the scroll and a pencil in her mouth. Then she went to a comfy spot, set her stuff down, and started making some tea to drink while writing. Once the spot started steaming, she took it off, poured herself a cup, and went back to her scroll. She sat down on a pillow and began to write.It was a stormy, windy night; rain pelted the windows and banged on the door, but all was cozy indoors. An elderly couple sat at a table, playing a board game where you spell out words. Whoever has the most words when the tiles run out, wins. Wooden Leaf huffed as she looked at her letters, knowing not many words she could make out of them, not unless there was a words made of Q's and X's that didn't have vowels. However, Stormy Mane knew his luck had come, his letters were perfect. He waited patiently for his wife's turn. She sighed and looked up at him. "I have nothing." she told him. He nodded, then smiled, taking the letters in his magical grasp and placing them on the table in front of him. What he laid down spelled 'argute.' Six letters, he had to draw six new tiles to make twelve, which was the starting number. His wife looked at him with soft eyes and a slight grin, "I'm glad that word doesn't describe you." Stormy simply smiled back.
The wind continued to bang on their walls as the game continued. More words had been laid down, finally, knives, masquerade, and opera. At the moment, Leaf was winning for her long word, which counts as two. Any word over six letters counts as two words. It was Leaf's turn again, and as she laid down the word 'ghost,' something knocked on the door. Stormy looked up into his wife's eyes, confused. For the first time all night, he spoke. "It's just the wind playing tricks on us." They went back to their game. More time passed, more words were laid down, then Stormy laid down the word 'darkness,' and all the lights went out. It was as if a window had been opened, for all at once, every candle was blown out and the room was immersed in pitch blackness. Leaf, with magic, relit all the candles to find that the letters on the table had been scattered, erasing all words. "Oh," she sighed, then with a look, she asked Stormy if he had done it, since he was loosing. All he said, in a shaky voice, was, "I haven't moved an inch." Suddenly, Leaf felt slightly afraid, for Stormy would never lie to her.
Flour stopped writing to take a sip of her tea, then shook her head. Why was she writing a horror story? She had never had any experience writing scary stories, since she herself did not particularly like being scared. She stared down at her work, slightly pleased with herself, but otherwise confused. She wasn't sure why she was writing this... but she knew if she continued, she would never play a word game again. She decided to write one more paragraph, so she took the pencil in her mouth and began again.The wind continued to rattle the windows, and once again, there was a bang on the door. Leaf, knowing that it might be a neighbor, stood up to go answer it, but Stormy instantly pounced upon her and held her back with a frightened look upon his face. "Whatever you do, do not answer that door," he told her. Leaf, unaffected by everything that had happened so far, gave him a quizzical expression. "Why not?" He let go of her and took a step back. "I have a bad feeling about it. Would you like to continue our game?" They both agreed to do this and went back to their game, which they had to restart. Word after word was laid down, and nothing happened, then Leaf laid down the word 'wolf,' and a howl sounded in the distance. Again, this did not affect Leaf, but Stormy noticed that as soon as the word was placed, the sound came. He took a mental note not to place a word he would regret. They continued the game. Word after word was laid down, and finally, Stormy looked at his letters, he had twelve left. He reached for the bag of tiles, but found it empty, for he was dreading the word that his tiles created, It read 'deathstalker.' He, himself, had no idea what would happen if he laid the word down, he had no idea if something magic would happen or not. But, he knew if he did lay the word down, then it would count for two words and he would win, and so he tried it out. He laid down the word 'deathstalker.' For a moment, it seemed happy, as he had won. Leaf was always a good sport about these things, and congratulated him on his success. Then, suddenly, from out of what seemed to be nowhere, came the ugliest thing you could ever find, a large, yellow scorpion. It stalked up to the couple, and though they blasted it many times with their magic, it continued to come toward them. Leaf ran to the door, but Stormy stopped her, reminding her that whatever might be out there is worse than a simple scorpion.
Fleur stopped writing. How was she going to end the story? After all, it was a horror story, and it seemed as if the couple was in bad luck. She drank the last drop of her tea and decided to leave the story for another time, possibly to finish, but maybe not. She looked around, what else could she do? Then she spotted her favourite book laying on the floor beside her, and picked it up in her mouth. She left her scroll on her table and grabbed her saddle bag, strapping it on. She placed her book in it and left her house. Fleur trotted through her garden, stopped a bit to pet a few animals, then continued on. Her first thought was to go to the coffee shop, or possibly the library, but then she remembered the park. On a nice day like this, she shouldn't be cooped up indoors. She trotted onward to the park.
Once she arrived, she found herself a nice shady place underneath a tree and laid down on her stomach. She curled her legs in and sat on them, and she found herself very comfortable. She used her wind to turn the pages of her book. She rarely had the time to enjoy a good moment such as this one, and she wanted to catch up in her book to the good part. Even though she already knew what was going to happen, she still loved the thrill of the adventure. She sat quietly on the grass as it swayed around her, and read her favourite story.