Jiieden

A white plaster tower pearled into the sky as the twin spiraling suns rose brilliantly into the heavens. The light dropped flat, sketching grey shades of the alabaster city, all elysium marbles and rolled blank plasters. Domes broke in spots through the clouded reach of the pillars and boxes and arcs drawn in the light. Faint mist clung to the earth, clutching the white stones of the earth, misted trills tremulous against the morning. Shadows played sparser, fading as the double orbs climbed higher.

The city gleamed, and the clouds broke away.

Architecture loomed magnificent in the half light, a precise tapestry woven of edifices festooned with balconies, porticos, great staircases and grand arches, leaping bridges and vaulting buttresses. Thin and slender minarets compete with smooth domes match to huge organic structures. Some buildings are worn, half melted by age and wear, whilst others possess a newborn sharp edge. Shadows fall across the pretentious, ponderous shapes, halving their glory.

It was an empty metropolis. Doves floated on thermals over its pristine buildings, and made their nests in the belltowers, great white towers sporting ornate silver and gold worked masterpieces, still and silent. Their hidden croons were the only noise, lost amongst the dawn. Below, everything was still.

The great leaping vaulting grandiose architecture also was empty. No room was furnished, no house inhabited. Bleached white grey floors sat waiting. Great museums lacked exhibits, factories their machines, houses their beds and tables. Everything has been scoured. Antiseptic bright harsh white plain floors ceilings windows simple walls.

A shadow darts across the suns, twisted shapes falling across the deserted constructs below. It blurs, tracing a whip descent from the sky, screaming downwards in a fierce and proudful cry. It is a bird, a falcon, golden flecked eyes and golden wings, though they move faster than can be seen. Its razored talons clutch a dove, bright red specks spattering the streets below. Instantly the falcon raises again, rising above the clouds, vanishing from sight once more, carrying its gobbet trophy with it.

The doves explode in delayed motion, frantically pumping their wings towards their safe havens, plumage falling to the earth. Feathers flicker sideways, descending, landing softly upon the street, already marred by the bright red blood.

Slowly, the feathers and blood evaporate under the unnatural suns, leaving again pristine, perfect, immaculate white.

The city gleams.

Kimberly Bird

Hi Jiieden. That is some nice creative writing. I enjoy these for the shere purpose of exercising the mind. Are you taking this further? One weak part;

The great leaping vaulting grandiose architecture also was empty. No room was furnished, no house inhabited. Bleached white grey floors sat waiting. Great museums

Great and great bother me because they are too close together.

Tell me what you plan to do with this, I'm curious.

Best of luck.

Kimberly

__________________
There are two types of wisdom in this world; one is seeking and loud, the other is silent and true. (Chief Dan George)

Jiieden

You are quite right. If had noticed the overuse of the word 'great' there, I would have changed it. Actually I think I shouldn't have used the word architecture twice either.


As for where it goes, I have no idea. I wrote it on impulse, just to hammer onto paper the image in my mind. That said, I like it as an introduction of some sort, so who can predict whats next...?

*sighs* I have way, way too many of those - introductions, scene-setters. I can't progress beyond that initial image, often, and keep it as good as I liked it before...That is a difficulty of mine, I suppose.

Eiji Tunsinagi

I liked this; reminded me of my own style. The mood that is expressed with the mere existence of an empty place, very well done. The whole piece simply seems to be a mood evoked through description. It's a piece to stand alone or is there more?

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

zaoshang

Your style proves you have a great sensibility and an eye for details. Your writing is clear and nicely polished.

However, I feel there is something in excess in this prose. I'm not saying that's wrong, only it's just too much for me. I'm talking about the overuse of adjectives and adverbs. You know most writers' advice: "show it, don't tell it." Well, adjectives and adverbs are good at telling, but poor at showing. I know your text is just a scene setting, but I still feel it's decorated in excess. Perhaps I wouldn't have this impression if you went on and added something dynamic to it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm just trying to be constructive. I think this story can turn into something really good.

Best of luck and keep writing!

Jiieden

Good advice. My style is very much less verbose than this, usually, but I was just playing around with different styles, to see what I could do.

As for a story...well, yes, there is a story which uses a part of this, but only a fraction of this prose is used - the first paragraph. The rest was unescessary in a way.