Shifti - User contributions [en]

User talk:MatthiasRat/Made Alone

2012-08-12T05:28:53Z

Clicketyclack:

Hey there. Just added a Wor--[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 18:04, 30 January 2008 (EST)k in Progress tag. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 13:17, 23 January 2008 (EST)

Thank you, Jon!! I hope you are enjoying this story. You've got a great setting! --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 18:35, 23 January 2008 (EST)
:One interesting thing about this story is the way the TG aspect comes out. Since nobody can see Christopher as a woman, it's basically all in his own head. She has to buy bras, and probably hygiene products, all by herself. In [[User:JonBuck/Tall Tales|Tall Tales]], DL decided to go all out for the newbie convention because only other furs can perceive her for what she is. Other than the practical details, it won't be an issue socially for Chris until she starts encountering other furs during her female phases. Once he hits male rat permanently, it's going to make quite a book. :) --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 18:55, 23 January 2008 (EST)
::I've never really done much in the way of TG in my own works. Though I've written a few in Metamor Keep, I've never gotten into the head of a character who has TGed. The real question for Chris will be if she can admit that she's a she when she's a she, or will she continue to call herself he. ;-) --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 21:19, 23 January 2008 (EST)

:::For someone who doesn't do much tg your doing an awesome job at it! I only had a one thought on his diet, the part where he looks into the fridge and dismisses most of whats in it including the fruits seems a bit off to me as Brown bears will eat berrys and roots. I wasn't sure of the numbers myself but your char might want to scoot over to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brown_bear#Dietary_habits and take a look. :)

:::Otherwise it's looking good so far! --[[User:Devin|Devin]] 16:44, 29 January 2008 (EST)
::::Thanks, Devin! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'll modify the fridge scene to take into account what I should have known already! --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 21:38, 29 January 2008 (EST)

Bras count as clothing, and are thus not affected by the RDF. However, there are likely tricks to hiding wearing one. I'm sure Chris would've devised many. His/her breasts would be like a tail, though. In some situations, it ''could'' be sensed by humans. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 18:52, 28 January 2008 (EST)
:What sort of situations would that be? And yes, she is very good at keeping her bra hidden. Nothing she wears will ever be see through! --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 20:48, 28 January 2008 (EST)
::Details like that I leave up to the writer. :) --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 21:17, 28 January 2008 (EST)

==Text as images==

I notice you're converting text into jpegs for parts of this story. That takes a lot of bandwidth, is hard to edit, and the text-to-speech program I use to read stories on Shifti to me while I do other things is not going to like it. (I'm so lazy, I have machines read me bed-time stories :) May I suggest an alternative? You can accomplish pretty much the same effect by using a little CSS-styled HTML. I've put a demo over in [[Shifti:Sandbox]], if you like I can apply that styling to the appropriate sections of text in the story for you. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 03:06, 26 January 2008 (EST)

Oh, I forgot to mention, if you'll tell me which font, size, and line spacing you used I could probably match the appearance even closer. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 03:15, 26 January 2008 (EST)

:I'd very much like that! I struggled vainly to find some way to make the journal entries stand out, and naturally, it proved difficult. If you could get it started for me, I'd appreciate it. The font I used is Technical, size 14 Bold. I wanted something that at least looked like it might be handwriting! Thank you, Bryan! --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 05:57, 26 January 2008 (EST)

::Hm. I don't have Technical on my system (Comic Sans MS is very similar though, and a standard font that's already installed on most systems, so I've made that the first fallback choice). When I boost the font size to 14pt and the font weight to bold the words become huge and cartoonish-looking compared to the images, so I've left it at 12pt and normal font weight for now. It's your story, though, so by all means tweak the styles on those divs to make it look right to you.
::The text of one of the journal entries wasn't in the story's edit history, rather than retype all of that could you perhaps insert it? I'll do the formatting for it as well, and any subsequent entries you may add. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 14:17, 26 January 2008 (EST)
:::Well, I know how to use style sheets, at least at a basic level. Seeing what you did, I can easily copy it. I've done so for the last journal entry. Thanks for taking care of this, Bryan! You've been a big help! Now I don't have to go through the agony of printing to PDF, copying to an image, and uploading it!
:::If I do mess this up, let me know and show me what I need to do to correct it. What other basic font sets do we have that the style sheet will recognize? --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 17:26, 26 January 2008 (EST)

::::I've made a minor change to make the page look more like the image. This was very tricky, but works — there is a lot that can be done with CSS that people don't usually realize. Some of the tricks (like the columns I stuck in) are counter-intuitive. (Sorry, BD, but your "float: left" scheme from the sandbox doesn't work well - I tried it here.)

::::As far as the "font families" go, there are enough. There are five "generic" families - 'sans-serif' (like Arial), 'serif' (like Times New Roman), 'cursive' (like Comic Sans), 'monospace' (like Courier') and 'fantasy' (which covers things like "Impact"). These can be combined with a lot of other font-rendering CSS attributes, like "font-style" (normal, italic and oblique), "font-weight" (which gives everything from very thin text (at 100) to very thick, bold text (at 900 - normal bold is 700 or "bold", standard weight is 400 or "normal"), "font-variant" which gives you "small caps" and "font-stretch" (which gives you the ability to change the spacing between characters).

::::Information about the current possibilities of CSS are available at [http://www.w3.org/Style/CSS/ http://www.w3.org/Style/CSS/] — I use this resource myself when attempting something I haven't done before. Other places you can look are [http://www.alistapart.com/ A List Apart] and [http://www.csszengarden.com/ The CSS Zen Garden] – I've used both for help with various ideas.
:::::[[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 17:59, 26 January 2008 (EST)

::::Had to undo the columns... Looked like [http://shadowwolf.keil-draco.com/example6.png this to me] but looked like [http://deer.transform.to/temp/Made%20Alone%20On%20Screen.jpg this to Jon]. I'm guessing that the problem comes up when people actually have the proper font and it has different properties entirely from the "backup" and "generic" picks. Oh well, shit happens :)
:::::[[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 18:12, 26 January 2008 (EST)

:::::The float:left trick I tried over in the sandbox was a way to allow several distinct "pages" of text to move up beside each other when there was sufficient room for multiple columns, just like the images were doing, but as you noticed it actually makes things a bit confusing to the reader by making the text appear strung together out of order. This was a problem with the image approach too. I considered putting a border around each page but that would change the visual style significantly from the original. An alternate method of making it dual column would be to add "-moz-column-count:2; -webkit-column-count:2; column-count:2;" to the enclosing div's style. (There's three different attributes for this because there are several common browsers that don't follow the same standards in this area, this covers all of them. :) [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 18:45, 26 January 2008 (EST)

If this solution is acceptable and you're not planning to use those jpegs, shall I delete them now? [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 02:50, 27 January 2008 (EST)
:Yes, that would be fine. Thank you again for your help, Bryan! The story looks the way I think it should now. --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 07:08, 27 January 2008 (EST)

=More Comments=

Looking good so far, but you'll probably want to do another pass. I think Bob changed to Rob in the newest section.

And in the other section, I believe you said "But" when you meant "Bus". (There was another glaring typo from Monday I think but I can't recall what it is off hand now.) --[[User:Jetfire|Jetfire]]
:Make sure you add the Signature when you comment. Thanks. --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 18:04, 30 January 2008 (EST)
:Thanks for the comments, Jet. I didn't consciously change Bob to Rob, but I think I prefer it as Rob. I've been printing this out and editing it left and right. I prefer to think of it as the consequence of having bigger, clumsier fingers! --[[User:MatthiasRat|MatthiasRat]] 20:24, 30 January 2008 (EST)

As someone who is female, I find some of your descriptions a bit problematic. (Though it might be unfair to comment thus, considering that this story is four years old) However, I have never, ever, cried for no reason. Women don't cry for no reason, neither do men. At that point in the story, the character was probably emotional because of the strain such a physical change might bring on to the psyche, but I would not say there was "no reason." This is a stereotype. Think about it like this, if I randomly became male, even if it happened a while ago, I would still get upset about it from time to time. It would be perfectly normal to cry over it. It's not because I would be "female" but because I would be grieving over such a huge lifestyle change. Women aren't a different species, we just have different equipment. Otherwise, I really liked the story, the concept is fascinating. I found myself wondering how Christopher would cope with the various challenges his body would present and how much of his physical presence translates into stuff other people can see. You mentioned his hooves on the flooring and I wondered how he could possibly keep Leslie from noticing that. I also wondered if for all outward signs he was male why he couldn't be intimate with his wife. To me this seems to be a shift in reality, so it's likely possible. I don't know, I seem to have rambled and it's highly likely no one will ever read this. -clicketyclack

User talk:Clicketyclack/Scales

2012-07-20T03:52:04Z

Clicketyclack: Created page with "Perhaps one day I'll actually get around to writing something that makes a bit of sense beyond these quick-and-dirty flashes of transformation. I was wondering if I should mak..."

Perhaps one day I'll actually get around to writing something that makes a bit of sense beyond these quick-and-dirty flashes of transformation. I was wondering if I should make a category for stream of consciousness or victim's POV, I wasn't sure. It's so short I wondered whether I should post it or not. -click

User:Clicketyclack/Scales

2012-07-20T03:48:16Z

Clicketyclack:

[[Category:Story]][[Category:Clicketyclack]][[Category:Dragon]][[Category:Reptile]]
I feel a slight pinch and turn my arm over to examine the area. “Holy shit” I say as I watch my skin raise and thicken into inflexible discs. I touch it reflexively and barely feel the pressure at all... In fact, my fingers are flattening out and the patterns of my fingerprints are standing on end. They-They're so stiff. God! I think the bones in my hands m-might be rearranging. My fingernails are pushed out one by one by claws. I feel another surge of pain and hold my arms up to watch bony protrusions emerge.

Spikes... It travels up my arms and to my shoulder-blades. They push into each other in my back which is now too small to accommodate them. I fall to my knees unsure how to allay this pain.

B-but that's nothing. It's nothing it's nothing. My ribs press outward from the sternum and I feel my skin stretch stretch and tear taking with it the last of the sensitivity those nerve endings held. I shriek, my breasts falling away revealing a concave and muscular undercarriage of smooth scales.

I fall over. I am trapped on my back now, my upper body far disproportionate to my pasty legs. I crane my neck and watch as best I can across my body as my legs contort. My fucking pelvis shifts. I can feel the damn thing twist to function around the girth of a reptilian quadruped's belly. My legs are pushed outward, far beyond “birthing hips” and my feet elongate, bursting out of my socks. My big toe stretches out beyond the rest.

What the hell? Why one big toe? For climbing? SHIT SHIT SHIT! My neck and ass all at once. My vertebrae push out in all directions elongating me further. I have a tail. A fucking tail. I can see it rather well actually. My neck's a thousand feet long, I swear.

Oh-oh. This is bad. My cheekbones widen and then my jaw pushes out. All of my teeth fall out in the process. They dribble out of my mouth as I try to spit them out without lips. My tongue snakes around to catch up with the added space and I gasp. The sound is strange and lifting my hand I guess I find that my ears have fallen off. My field of vision is strange what with a large portion of it being taken up by what appears to be a snout. I cry out, the sound hollow and deep like the ground shaking. I roll over with great effort and small flecks of my human skin are stirred up by the movement.

I think...

I think I'm a fucking dragon.

User:Clicketyclack/Scales

2012-07-20T03:43:54Z

Clicketyclack: Very short little bit of prose from the victim's point of view.

I feel a slight pinch and turn my arm over to examine the area. “Holy shit” I say as I watch my skin raise and thicken into inflexible discs. I touch it reflexively and barely feel the pressure at all... In fact, my fingers are flattening out and the patterns of my fingerprints are standing on end. They-They're so stiff. God! I think the bones in my hands m-might be rearranging. My fingernails are pushed out one by one by claws. I feel another surge of pain and hold my arms up to watch bony protrusions emerge.

Spikes... It travels up my arms and to my shoulder-blades. They push into each other in my back which is now too small to accommodate them. I fall to my knees unsure how to allay this pain.

B-but that's nothing. It's nothing it's nothing. My ribs press outward from the sternum and I feel my skin stretch stretch and tear taking with it the last of the sensitivity those nerve endings held. I shriek, my breasts falling away revealing a concave and muscular undercarriage of smooth scales.

I fall over. I am trapped on my back now, my upper body far disproportionate to my pasty legs. I crane my neck and watch as best I can across my body as my legs contort. My fucking pelvis shifts. I can feel the damn thing twist to function around the girth of a reptilian quadruped's belly. My legs are pushed outward, far beyond “birthing hips” and my feet elongate, bursting out of my socks. My big toe stretches out beyond the rest.

What the hell? Why one big toe? For climbing? SHIT SHIT SHIT! My neck and ass all at once. My vertebrae push out in all directions elongating me further. I have a tail. A fucking tail. I can see it rather well actually. My neck's a thousand feet long, I swear.

Oh-oh. This is bad. My cheekbones widen and then my jaw pushes out. All of my teeth fall out in the process. They dribble out of my mouth as I try to spit them out without lips. My tongue snakes around to catch up with the added space and I gasp. The sound is strange and lifting my hand I guess I find that my ears have fallen off. My field of vision is strange what with a large portion of it being taken up by what appears to be a snout. I cry out, the sound hollow and deep like the ground shaking. I roll over with great effort and small flecks of my human skin are stirred up by the movement.

I think...

I think I'm a fucking dragon.

User:Clicketyclack

2012-07-20T03:38:53Z

Clicketyclack:

{{author page}}{{my stories}}
[[User:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls|The Rain Falls]]

[[User:Clicketyclack/Scales|Scales]]

Talk:Alex and Hannah

2011-07-01T02:53:10Z

Clicketyclack:

This story is about two-thirds to three-quarters complete. After that, of course, will come some heavy-duty editing and spell-checking on my part. My greatest weakness, is probably punctuation. Second and related is flow. My prose tends to look choppy to me. That's what I'll work on first.

I guess (hope) I'm ready to hear what other people think so far.

I'll be doing a lot of revising, but the story is essentially done.

I think all-in-all this is a very nice piece. I liked the little nods to some of the other Xanadu stories that helped me see this as part of a whole. I think you could spend more time with the ending, in the last few paragraphs it feels rushed. I felt worried with your Jedi as well because -anything- could have happened to her. I do have one question, how would she have worked at the booth with a finned costume? But even as I ask that question I think of all the crazy costumes I've seen and think it's possible. There were a couple little mistakes, but all the ones I spotted were typos and not serious. -Clicketyclack

User:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls

2011-07-01T01:54:02Z

Clicketyclack:

{{title}}{{DEFAULTSORT:The Rain Falls}}[[Category:Story]][[Category:Clicketyclack]][[Category:Ambiguous]]
The rain displaces the weeping still clinging to your lashes. The moonlight flickers off this gathered moisture, the only betrayer of your presence in the dark. Your toes feel the warmth seeping from the asphalt as you step out onto the deserted street. She has beckoned before. Many times you have heard her calling across the treetops, through the byways, past the windowpanes. But always you answer in your heart; never with your tread. In the daytime you often find yourself wondering if there is anything at the end of this road. If, you ran at a rapid gait the world would fall away or you would find yourself back at the beginning; a miniature world in a snow-globe. It's irrational of course to think that way. You fought it down often enough. You knew for certain that it didn't stop a few houses down and fade into shadows. But in the dark there was a portion of the road obscured by clouds and you waver. Quivering you stand before your milk-eyed Fate. The air tests his chill on your skin. The hair at your nape and along your arms snaps to attention.

A car-door slams in the distance.

You jerk your head about checking for life- but hear nothing. You sigh in relief. Wouldn't want anyone to think you're a psychopath out here in the rain. Taking a few steps forward you carefully pick your way along the sidewalk, squinting to keep from stepping on broken glass. You see none and after a while you find yourself trying to keep the water out of your eyes.

The moon is still waiting when you look up. You take full strides aware that even though you are soaked through the you are no longer shivering. You think to yourself that as long as you don't go too far you can easily walk back. -Since it feels so lovely here. You are beginning to walk down a steep incline and pick up speed. Laughing quietly to yourself you run on the balls of your feet reveling in oiled movement. It's quite delicious actually. You let your lips part from your mouth and open wide to take in the air. You feel the cold-burn heave of exerted breath though you have only run a couple steps. In a ripple you feel your hair prickle again and the rain no longer slides across clean skin. Your foot pumps against the hard ground and you can't feel the asphalt scrape any more, only the dull thud of your weight propelled forward. Your left foot connects with the ground with the same kinetic force but your rhythm is increasing and your heart is pumping hard. You are moving out of your two-count rhythm.

It is difficult to keep this pace. You gasp. You are off balance. Your spine arcs painfully. You cry out. You put your arms out to catch yourself. You cannot stop moving because it is a hill so you stumble forward on your hands and feet. Your palms hold up well; adrenaline must be keeping you from feeling the scrapes. You over extend your arms in an attempt to stop and feel your legs stretch out behind you. Out, out, only the toes touch the pavement now stretched as far as they can go and the force causes your knees to pop out of joint. Both are trailing along in reverse. You feel your ribcage grate against the ground cruelly.

The blow is severe. You feel your chest telescope into itself. Your stomach caves in as you brace for impact and try to bring your crooked legs in to shield your body.

Somehow you kick off the ground, almost tripping on your jeans as they escape your waist. You place an arm out to steady yourself and let your hand roll smoothly across the ground. The right arm follows but this time you gain traction and with it increased stability. You realize with horror that the elastic of your underwear has managed to free itself. Reacting you turn your head and see that the base of your spine is aiding their progress. You wrench your eyes away unwilling to see and yet your ears still angle behind. They can hear your spine extending and you feel it bending countermeasure to your weight. You strain your mouth to scream again but this time your nose elongates and brings with it lips that wither into black and chin that smooths itself forward like a needle in the groove. Your teeth join the mutiny and raise themselves as worshipers of war.

Your paws connect with the ground with a four-count rhythm as your claws entreat the paved earth. Your tail keeps time with graceful sways. You surge into the night; the image of silk-slick speed to do your worst.

User talk:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls

2011-06-29T01:58:27Z

Clicketyclack:

Nice to see you post a story! -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 01:28, 29 June 2011 (UTC)

Powerful imagery and great flow - my only complaint is that I'm apparently too tired to follow it in a completely coherent manner. I did manage to make it all the way through and think this shows some promise! -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 01:36, 29 June 2011 (UTC)

Thank you! There was some worry that it might be hard to follow what's actually happening. I posted it over on FA but didn't get any sort of critique. I will likely continue to tweak it as I feel it's lacking something and the end is not what I want it to be.

P.S. No, you didn't step on my toes. I'm completely unfamiliar with the wiki format. I was attempting to put it where it is supposed to go when I discovered you had already moved it. It was a pleasant surprise for me.

User:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls

2011-06-29T01:26:05Z

Clicketyclack: Replaced content with 'Nothing much to say, but I'm going to put up a short story and see how it goes over.'

Nothing much to say, but I'm going to put up a short story and see how it goes over.

User:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls

2011-06-29T01:23:55Z

Clicketyclack:

The Rain Falls

The rain displaces the weeping still clinging to your lashes. The moonlight flickers off this gathered moisture, the only betrayer of your presence in the dark. Your toes feel the warmth seeping from the asphalt as you step out onto the deserted street. She has beckoned before. Many times you have heard her calling across the treetops, through the byways, past the windowpanes. But always you answer in your heart; never with your tread. In the daytime you often find yourself wondering if there is anything at the end of this road. If, you ran at a rapid gait the world would fall away or you would find yourself back at the beginning; a miniature world in a snow-globe. It's irrational of course to think that way. You fought it down often enough. You knew for certain that it didn't stop a few houses down and fade into shadows. But in the dark there was a portion of the road obscured by clouds and you waver. Quivering you stand before your milk-eyed Fate. The air tests his chill on your skin. The hair at your nape and along your arms snaps to attention.

A car-door slams in the distance.

You jerk your head about checking for life- but hear nothing. You sigh in relief. Wouldn't want anyone to think you're a psychopath out here in the rain. Taking a few steps forward you carefully pick your way along the sidewalk, squinting to keep from stepping on broken glass. You see none and after a while you find yourself trying to keep the water out of your eyes.

The moon is still waiting when you look up. You take full strides aware that even though you are soaked through the you are no longer shivering. You think to yourself that as long as you don't go too far you can easily walk back. -Since it feels so lovely here. You are beginning to walk down a steep incline and pick up speed. Laughing quietly to yourself you run on the balls of your feet reveling in oiled movement. It's quite delicious actually. You let your lips part from your mouth and open wide to take in the air. You feel the cold-burn heave of exerted breath though you have only run a couple steps. In a ripple you feel your hair prickle again and the rain no longer slides across clean skin. Your foot pumps against the hard ground and you can't feel the asphalt scrape any more, only the dull thud of your weight propelled forward. Your left foot connects with the ground with the same kinetic force but your rhythm is increasing and your heart is pumping hard. You are moving out of your two-count rhythm.

It is difficult to keep this pace. You gasp. You are off balance. Your spine arcs painfully. You cry out. You put your arms out to catch yourself. You cannot stop moving because it is a hill so you stumble forward on your hands and feet. Your palms hold up well; adrenaline must be keeping you from feeling the scrapes. You over extend your arms in an attempt to stop and feel your legs stretch out behind you. Out, out, only the toes touch the pavement now stretched as far as they can go and the force causes your knees to pop out of joint. Both are trailing along in reverse. You feel your ribcage grate against the ground cruelly.

The blow is severe. You feel your chest telescope into itself. Your stomach caves in as you brace for impact and try to bring your crooked legs in to shield your body.

Somehow you kick off the ground, almost tripping on your jeans as they escape your waist. You place an arm out to steady yourself and let your hand roll smoothly across the ground. The right arm follows but this time you gain traction and with it increased stability. You realize with horror that the elastic of your underwear has managed to free itself. Reacting you turn your head and see that the base of your spine is aiding their progress. You wrench your eyes away unwilling to see and yet your ears still angle behind. They can hear your spine extending and you feel it bending countermeasure to your weight. You strain your mouth to scream again but this time your nose elongates and brings with it lips that wither into black and chin that smooths itself forward like a needle in the groove. Your teeth join the mutiny and raise themselves as worshipers of war.

Your paws connect with the ground with a four-count rhythm as your claws entreat the paved earth. Your tail keeps time with graceful sways. You surge into the night; the image of silk-slick speed to do your worst.

User:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls

2011-06-29T01:21:51Z

Clicketyclack:

The Rain Falls

The rain displaces the weeping still clinging to your lashes. The moonlight flickers off this gathered moisture, the only betrayer of your presence in the dark. Your toes feel the warmth seeping from the asphalt as you step out onto the deserted street. She has beckoned before. Many times you have heard her calling across the treetops, through the byways, past the windowpanes. But always you answer in your heart; never with your tread. In the daytime you often find yourself wondering if there is anything at the end of this road. If, you ran at a rapid gait the world would fall away or you would find yourself back at the beginning; a miniature world in a snow-globe. It's irrational of course to think that way. You fought it down often enough. You knew for certain that it didn't stop a few houses down and fade into shadows. But in the dark there was a portion of the road obscured by clouds and you waver. Quivering you stand before your milk-eyed Fate. The air tests his chill on your skin. The hair at your nape and along your arms snaps to attention.

A car-door slams in the distance.

You jerk your head about checking for life- but hear nothing. You sigh in relief. Wouldn't want anyone to think you're a psychopath out here in the rain. Take a few steps forward. You carefully pick your way along the road-edge squinting to keep from stepping on broken glass. There is none and after a while you find yourself trying to keep the water out of your eyes.

The moon is still waiting when you look up. You take full strides aware that even though you are soaked through the you are no longer shivering. You think to yourself that as long as you don't go too far you can easily walk back. -Since it feels so lovely here. You are beginning to walk down a steep incline and pick up speed. Laughing quietly to yourself you run on the balls of your feet reveling in oiled movement. It's quite delicious actually. You let your lips part from your mouth and open wide to take in the air. You feel the cold-burn heave of exerted breath though you have only run a couple steps. In a ripple you feel your hair prickle again and the rain no longer slides across clean skin. Your foot pumps against the hard ground and you can't feel the asphalt scrape any more, only the dull thud of your weight propelled forward. Your left foot connects with the ground with the same kinetic force but your rhythm is increasing and your heart is pumping hard. You are moving out of your two-count rhythm.

It is difficult to keep this pace. You gasp. You are off balance. Your spine arcs painfully. You cry out. You put your arms out to catch yourself. You cannot stop moving because it is a hill so you stumble forward on your hands and feet. Your palms hold up well; adrenaline must be keeping you from feeling the scrapes. You over extend your arms in an attempt to stop and feel your legs stretch out behind you. Out, out, only the toes touch the pavement now stretched as far as they can go and the force causes your knees to pop out of joint. Both are trailing along in reverse. You feel your ribcage grate against the ground cruelly.

The blow is severe. You feel your chest telescope into itself. Your stomach caves in as you brace for impact and try to bring your crooked legs in to shield your body.

Somehow you kick off the ground, almost tripping on your jeans as they escape your waist. You place an arm out to steady yourself and let your hand roll smoothly across the ground. The right arm follows but this time you gain traction and with it increased stability. You realize with horror that the elastic of your underwear has managed to free itself. Reacting you turn your head and see that the base of your spine is aiding their progress. You wrench your eyes away unwilling to see and yet your ears still angle behind. They can hear your spine extending and you feel it bending countermeasure to your weight. You strain your mouth to scream again but this time your nose elongates and brings with it lips that wither into black and chin that smooths itself forward like a needle in the groove. Your teeth join the mutiny and raise themselves as worshipers of war.

Your paws connect with the ground with a four-count rhythm as your claws entreat the paved earth. Your tail keeps time with graceful sways. You surge into the night; the image of silk-slick speed to do your worst.

User:Clicketyclack/The Rain Falls

2011-06-29T01:20:32Z

Clicketyclack: First experiment with TF story based on a recurring dream. Hopefully someone will enjoy it and it's intentional vagueness.

The Rain Falls

The rain displaces the weeping still clinging to your lashes. The moonlight flickers off this gathered moisture, the only betrayer of your presence in the dark. Your toes feel the warmth seeping from the asphalt as you step out onto the deserted street. She has beckoned before. Many times you have heard her calling across the treetops, through the byways, past the windowpanes. But always you answer in your heart; never with your tread. In the daytime you often find yourself wondering if there is anything at the end of this road. If, you ran at a rapid gait the world would fall away or you would find yourself back at the beginning; a miniature world in a snow-globe. It's irrational of course to think that way. You fought it down often enough. You knew for certain that it didn't stop a few houses down and fade into shadows. But in the dark there was a portion of the road obscured by clouds and you waver. Quivering you stand before your milk-eyed Fate. The air tests his chill on your skin. The hair at your nape and along your arms snaps to attention.
A car-door slams in the distance.
You jerk your head about checking for life- but hear nothing. You sigh in relief. Wouldn't want anyone to think you're a psychopath out here in the rain. Take a few steps forward. You carefully pick your way along the road-edge squinting to keep from stepping on broken glass. There is none and after a while you find yourself trying to keep the water out of your eyes.
The moon is still waiting when you look up. You take full strides aware that even though you are soaked through the you are no longer shivering. You think to yourself that as long as you don't go too far you can easily walk back. -Since it feels so lovely here. You are beginning to walk down a steep incline and pick up speed. Laughing quietly to yourself you run on the balls of your feet reveling in oiled movement. It's quite delicious actually. You let your lips part from your mouth and open wide to take in the air. You feel the cold-burn heave of exerted breath though you have only run a couple steps. In a ripple you feel your hair prickle again and the rain no longer slides across clean skin. Your foot pumps against the hard ground and you can't feel the asphalt scrape any more, only the dull thud of your weight propelled forward. Your left foot connects with the ground with the same kinetic force but your rhythm is increasing and your heart is pumping hard. You are moving out of your two-count rhythm.
It is difficult to keep this pace. You gasp. You are off balance. Your spine arcs painfully. You cry out. You put your arms out to catch yourself. You cannot stop moving because it is a hill so you stumble forward on your hands and feet. Your palms hold up well; adrenaline must be keeping you from feeling the scrapes. You over extend your arms in an attempt to stop and feel your legs stretch out behind you. Out, out, only the toes touch the pavement now stretched as far as they can go and the force causes your knees to pop out of joint. Both are trailing along in reverse. You feel your ribcage grate against the ground cruelly.
The blow is severe. You feel your chest telescope into itself. Your stomach caves in as you brace for impact and try to bring your crooked legs in to shield your body.
Somehow you kick off the ground, almost tripping on your jeans as they escape your waist. You place an arm out to steady yourself and let your hand roll smoothly across the ground. The right arm follows but this time you gain traction and with it increased stability. You realize with horror that the elastic of your underwear has managed to free itself. Reacting you turn your head and see that the base of your spine is aiding their progress. You wrench your eyes away unwilling to see and yet your ears still angle behind. They can hear your spine extending and you feel it bending countermeasure to your weight. You strain your mouth to scream again but this time your nose elongates and brings with it lips that wither into black and chin that smooths itself forward like a needle in the groove. Your teeth join the mutiny and raise themselves as worshipers of war.
Your paws connect with the ground with a four-count rhythm as your claws entreat the paved earth. Your tail keeps time with graceful sways. You surge into the night; the image of silk-slick speed to do your worst.