The vale

.

In the heavens, stars are hidden,

Far over the misty valley

Night has come ever so slowly,

Now they awaken, the seven.

Soulless red eyes, always watching,

None can escape their piercing gaze,

Trapping them all inside the maze

Of their own lives, their thoughts catching.

Only a god or a madman

Would dare defy the curator,

Would dare to meet their creator,

To go back where it all began.

At first it was the only way,

Whether or not it was correct,

To keep them safe and to protect,

To keep the other ones at bay,

But as time passed it never stopped,

Dark waves, one after the other,

From the belly of earth mother

Until every freedom was dropped…

And now the seven awaken,

As the black veil covers the sky,

Far over the clouds, where stars fly;

Who can reclaim what was taken?

.

À toi.

.

J’ai toutes les merveilles du monde à mes pieds

Et sa magnificence s’étend sous mes yeux,

En cette froide nuit je me permet d’épier

L’univers qui m’entoure et tous ses oublieux.

Vagabondant les rues sous le vent froid du soir

A la mélodie d’une exaltante chanson

Je me laisse noyer dans ces couleurs et sons,

Pourtant en ce tableau rien ne semble me seoir,

Vivant et enchanteur, dont on peut célébrer

L’incroyable beauté; rien ne me fait vibrer.

Non pas que j’en sois las ou même qu’il m’écœure

Mais, plutôt que de l’admirer, je pense à toi,

– Éclipsant toute étoile qui là-haut chatoie –

Car c’est ta silhouette qui a pris mon cœur.

.

Agony

.

There is this boy I like

Back home, in the country,

He is somewhat alike

A strong ancient oak tree:

So calm and collected

Yet fiery with passion,

His hair strangely ashen,

His smile long perfected.

I have sadly not seen

The object of my thoughts

For years but I have been

Since for him having hots.

I paint him in my sleep,

Sometimes his absence weep,

Has he wished my return

For as long, does he yearn?

Doubt is starting to grow

In my heart, somber throe,

But I cannot back out

Now it is far to late,

As I near the old gate

I must remain devout.

.

Scribere

.

Écrire c’est souffler la vie

À une créature étrange

Magnifique et pure, tel un ange,

Et puis la contempler ravi.

Créateur, forgeur des éthers,

Dieu parmi hommes et mortels,

Qui, de son orgueil délétère,

Tous les esprits martèle.

.

Tick tock


Can you hear the hands of the clock

As they move round and round – tick tock – ?

You can run, you can hide and mock,

But never outrun the hours’ flock.

When on the door fate’s hands knock

None can quite live through the shock,

Among strange white groves we walk

Searching the key to our lock.

Vous connaissez la chanson…

.

Emmenez moi au pays des merveilles,

Emmenez moi tout au bout de la terre,

Emmenez moi là où tout émerveille,

Emmenez moi tout là haut dans l’éther,

Emmenez moi la où la mer est vieille,

Emmenez moi là-bas où l’on espère,

Emmenez moi par là où l’amour veille,

Emmenez moi là où l’homme se perd.

.


Emmenez moi là… où tous nos ancêtres, de géants guerriers celtes, après de grandes batailles se sont imposés en maîtres !

Concept #2 – Ghost in a shell

ghost


Prompts & Concepts

Context: horror story with ghost or specter, the main character goes to investigate strange happenings


The MC [Main character] (a journalist? a writer? a ghost hunter? psychic?) goes to an isolated mansion (or any kind of dark, scary place) to investigate strange happenings and rumors of supernatural events occurring there. Also, fishy story about death of the old owner? First owner died mysteriously, is said to be haunting the house? And last owner died strangely too.

MC’s search progresses normally at first but quickly begins to get weirder and weirder as they venture deeper into the mansion and dig into the back story of the ‘specter’ haunting the place. MC doesn’t believe it at first but slowly starts to understand things aren’t normal and begins to consider the possibility of something unexplainable.

Specter/Ghost starts to chase MC all over, scare them and trying to kill them to exact revenge. MC manages to survive while uncovering the dark secret and realizes that the ghost was trying to communicate with them since the beginning but cannot really control its connection to the physical world.

MC finally understands that the ghost is a prisoner from a curse and somehow, over the course of the story (however long that is) begins to realize they have feelings for the specter/ghost (yeah, they fall in love somehow…).

MC does all they can to free the ghost without dying and at the same time tries to get it to decide not to kill them but understands that isn’t really its goal. The specter is bent on killing MC at first but somehow begins to see that MC can help it and that there is something more to the situation (love is in the air?). The character/way of being of the MC is the reason the ghost/specter starts falling in love too and, despite being very closed off at first, as the story progresses the ghost/specter begins opening up a little bit.

Also, MC isn’t really ‘good’ and that’s why the specter starts falling in love with them? Their feelings/love is not bound by normal rules.

Problem: the ghost/specter is cursed and can’t resist the urge to devour living souls (the soul of MC for example) but MC tries to help to deal with that somehow.

Do they end up together in the end? If yes, how? Is MC good or evil?

(MC is obsessed with ghost/specter, passionately in love?)


I’m not entirely convinced with that one.

I feel that writing this and offering it to you is not really worthy of the exercise, of me. I feel compelled to flesh out the story first, to give it more depth and value.

But that is the point of the game: giving you unfinished and incomplete ideas so that maybe you will want to give them life.

Anyways, hope you are interested!

Return to ConceptsGo to Prompts

Ice Ice Baby

.

Light runs down on her cold skin

As she stands atop the hill,

The first of this age-old kin,

She brings to watchers a thrill

That exceeds comprehension,

Her delicate complexion

In the barren lands up north

Brings the greatest courage forth.

By the hand that gave her life

– With his inner love in tune –

Through the sharp edge of the knife

Shines the sun, dances the moon.

.


TLMS anyone?