Theme Song #14

C

Celest

Guest
Original poster
Music touches people in different ways. Many people enjoy listening to music for inspiration, and others simply listen to it to relax. Some songs tell stories while others allow you to make your own story.


Your challenge:

Listen to the song above then take a minute or two to think about it.

Write out a scene to this song; make this song your scenes theme song.

Let me know what you see when you listen to this music.

 
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(Sounds like steampunk battle music O.o I love it XD)
 
*Ryu let Ayashi pull him close; closer than he would normally let a man. He clutched Ayashi's red silk shirt, longingly. There was something about the way Ayashi spoke that moved him. Perhaps it was his throaty, luscious voice, or the smooth, coaxing words that had his heart pounding. Ayashi's lips were pale, full, beckoning. Ryu wanted to melt into them, to nuzzle himself in between their icy, deceptive warmth. Ryu's heart thumped against his chest; it felt wet, swollen, about to burst. His throat was tight, stuffed with a million words that wanted to climb out at once. Ayashi's long black locks crept onto Ryu's face- he could smell Ayashi's soap, his spice, his essence. The scent stuck, drifting in and out of his consciousness as Ayashi pulled him gently closer and closer. It was against everything Ryu had known, and yet, he could think of nothing else. The want for Ayashi's lithe body overwhelmed him; Ryu's eyes tugged open the belt clasping Ayashi's black jeans; he saw the thinness of Ayashi's stomach, the curve of his hips, the candy nipples and throbbing soul. Ayashi was an evil man, a black corrupted heart, a sinful being that delighted in nothing but voluptuous pleasure. Ryu knew there was nothing in Ayashi's chest, and yet, he lusted for him still. Ryu's body ached for him, his heart fluttering at every touch of Ayashi's silken fingertips. Ayashi, still pulling him closer, traced his fingers around Ryu's red, wanting mouth; he whispered meaningless nothings into his ear, nibbling and sucking on his throat. Finally, he melted his colorless lips into Ryu's quivering ones, tasting the sourness of his mouth, the anguish, confusion, and desire. As he coaxed Ryu's mouth open, he delighted in another successful corruption. Married men were certainly his vice.*
 
Empires, kingdoms, republics and dictatorships may rise, fall, conquer land or collapse, but the smile of the Queen is eternal. On Her throne She sits eternally, waiting for Her beloved to set Her free from the curse that binds Her and Her soldiers, that binds the Army of Keys. Forever She shall wait for Her beloved, for the gods have already killed him, slayed his kin and stripped them of their souls so that they may not be given new bodies, so that they may not rescue the Queen. But little do the gods know about the Queen, for Her heart is just as feeble as a human's one, and after an aeon of waiting, She is tired of sitting on Her throne, tired of waiting for Her beloved to free the Army of Keys. Therefore, She has set Her eyes on a new man that could free Her from the curse, that could help Her reclaim what once belonged to Her.

The man does not know of his destiny yet, but as he approaches the Palace of Keys, he feels drawn into the central chamber, where the Queen smiles eternally, her divine body and face never fading into old age. He is frightened as his feet move themselves towards the grand hall, he is terrified as his hands operate the still-functioning mechanism of the gigantic steel door, and his eyes scream at the light that floods from within the chamber. On Her throne, the Queen sits, Her smile slowly becoming visible, Her body slowly becoming animated as She glances on Her new beloved and raises the hem of Her skirt as She bows before Her beloved.

"My beloved," says the Queen. "I have waited an aeon for you to return to me, and you have finally arrived. Will you free the Army of Keys so that we may reclaim what was once ours, so that we may see the pitiful humans kneel before us as they did long ago?"

"My Queen," the man says, his mouth moving by itself. "I am afraid that our time has not come yet, and it never will until we collect the Fears of Man so that we may rule with unspeakable terror. Your Army of Keys may be divine, fearsome and undefeatable, but it can not be in all places at once, or it will become weak, pathetic and mortal. Therefore, we will wait until the seeds that I have planted blossom into our daughter and her book, who will remind our people of their heritage."

"My beloved," says the Queen. "What shall we do until our daughter and her book come back? I fear that even though we are immortal, our senses may fade away with time, and our minds may decay into that of a mere human."

"Is that not obvious?" asks the man, his mouth curling into a smile. "We shall celebrate our reunion in the best way we know," continues the man as his form changes into that of a divine being, engtagling itself with the essence of the Queen. And the gods watch in terror as the Queen and Her beloved are united once again in the most unholy of unions, fearing for the fate of the world and their own lives.
 
Zack walked forward and prepared to fight for his place among the heavens. It was him versus the demons of Satan himself. He gripped his abnormally large sword in hand and charged at the hoard of demons. Never in his life had he been so scared. His black wings stretched behind him and he let out a battle cry. So many thoughts ran through his head as he charged. Zack had taken so many lives before and now he was only going to take more. His hair flowed behind him and the memories of his family followed behind him. The open planes was the perfect setting for a battle such as this. Demons quickly reached him and he swung his huge sword.

Everything was happening so quickly and he sliced a flying demon in half and heard it screech as he did so. It was earsplitting and as he was doing that he stepped on a demon's head to get a lift and cut another flying creature. The enemy's army was falling like flies, but there were more of them coming. There were demons with two bodies and fighting simulataneously back to back. Others were a collosal size and the ground shook with their every step. God was watching over Zack and the events that unfolded. This did not phase Zack and he cut the huge demons down by stepping upon the others. The giant creature took a swing at him and narrowly missed Zack by a hair. However a second hand swatted him out of the air. Soon the eternally damned overtook him...

They tore at his flesh and ripped off his skin. The pain was unbearable, but Zack remained strong and did not cry out. He simply shed a tear for the demons that were forever cursed to always hunger for flesh and for death. An imp bit at his side and made a laseration that revealed his ribs. Soon there was nothing left of the poor fallen angel. All that was left was his bones and the bloodied residue of what he used to be. Zack had died accepting death and all the pain it had caused.
 
Tears fell like a raging river. Clothes torn, shirtless and alone he walked the streets face mostly masked by his long black shoulder length hair. His once bright white wings were now dark and dirty from the battle once fought on this barren and now deserted street. Old and decayed buildings on either side, chips of paint, plaster and brick littered the ground in front of the buildings. Broken shards of glass threatened to rip skin open if anyone walked barefoot either in front or inside of the buildings. Roofs were caved in and there were dead bodies everywhere.

Cars stood on either side of him, the sidewalk littered with garbage and human waist. Nothing fazed him, nothing caught his attention, he was completely focused on moving forward. Wind stirred up the dirt and debris, a fresh mix of recent carnage and waste bombarded his nose. Wrinkling it in disgusted he looked from side to side surveying the scene of broken down Volkswagens, expensive but destroyed convertibles, and roofless corvettes. Tires were blown or popped, windshields were caved in or gone completely, even doors were missing.

The battle that ensued earlier that day was not for the humans, but they'd been caught I the middle as the angels and demons fought for who would gain dominion over the Earth. His particular angel wept not for the battle itself but for what he held in his arms. It was a woman, a simple woman. There were no distinguishing features, nothing that made her particularly beautiful, but despite all that he wept as he carried her through the desolate and deserted town.