《Becoming》Chapter 3
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When I get home, my mom's busy in the kitchen trying out a new Thai dish she's planning on making for a prima ballerina's birthday party. My mom's a renowned chef to the elites across our province. She has even cooked for some of our national celebrities, yes, she's that good. Let's be very clear on my cooking capability: as long as I can find the bread, peanut butter and jam, I can diminish any hunger pains.
Right, let me bring your attention to the things I do enjoy. My room is my haven. My treasured bookshelf is filled with books about love, adventure, tragedy, lost kingdoms, and action. I can spend hours being transported to a world that allows my imagination to be enriched and my vocabulary strengthened.
My beloved guitar, I baptized as "Black Beauty" is listed next. A glossy, black TAKAMINE EF341SC. It's made to perform. I received it as a gift from my parents 3 years ago. I am the guitarist in our band called NAS-L (pronounced NASAL). Stace is our lead vocalist. Nate our drummer and Li (our other long time friend) plays the keyboard and sings backup. We have been playing together as a band since the start of my high school career but started experimenting with our instruments and testing our vocal capabilities since Grade 6. We had a total of three gigs over the expanse of our two-year existence. Never underestimate small beginnings. We just need to find that ONE song that will make us the rock stars we know we are.
I am sure I'll catch people off guard when we perform on stage (not a reality just yet) due to my very average looking features, like the surprise element of our rock band. I have waist-length, dark brown hair always tied up in a bun or high ponytail. Chocolate brown eyes with a round little nose and plumlike lips.
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Brandon is the name of my adorable little brother, who thinks his sister is the coolest ever until I order him to do his house chores or threaten to tell our parents about his insubordination. Then I become the really annoying big sister who is ruining the life of her genius younger brother. I love being the eldest, it's so much fun.
He is in his room for hours on end working on AI tools or learning a new programming language. The times when I'm granted permission to enter his room and dare to look at his computer screens (he has a total of four screens, thanks to my dad who works as an engineer in robotics) my head starts this insistent throbbing that is only relieved when I make my exit.
Life in the Brown home can make me feel as if I'm the only sane member, this morning's mini catastrophe was a typical example. But amidst our daily madness, acceptance and unconditional love are attributes that make us thrive.
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What makes us human? Is it that we are concerned about the future? Is it that the past frequently haunts us? What drives us? What makes us do the things we do?What does it take to push us over the edge? What would we do after we have been broken and left for dead by the demons of the society? We fight back, tooth and nail, until there can only be one.This is the story of a man filled with sorrow. He was tested over and over, until he broke. He vowed revenge, and bathed in blood. He changed the course of entire nations. His life was the tree that held up the skies. His life was like the trunk, birthing forth infinite branches, each of them a future, a possibility, as he guided the course of entire nations. All the while, carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders, his soul seeking an end to his pain. Watch as he defies all odds and rises up to bathe in the blood of the world.This is a story about the human condition. There will be pain and intense suffering. This story about the tenacity of the human soul. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This will not contain any VR or Game elements. I would say this would be a typical work of High/Dark Fantasy.Criticism, no matter how brutal, is greatly welcomed. I only ask that you judge me fairly.Note:Artwork belongs to its owner and all credit goes to him/her alone. I claim no credit whatsoever.Edit1: The mature tag was added since a little swear language was used. For Now. Will see how the story progresses and warn about possible gore etc later on.
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"Be more direct, sweetheart.""I just...really want to kiss you right now."-It was as though the sun escorted her wherever she went, her entire self radiated a pleasing, envious aura. Her bubbly persona never ran dry. It had me intrigued, and admittedly a bit infatuated.It also made me feel guilty about being so attracted, being so drawn to a girl that was so young and acted so childishly. But dear oh dear, did I plan on making her mine.-In which a 20-year-old, childish girl encounters rough around edges, military man, Everest Simon who couldn't seem to get her out of his head.
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Pigs call it "Taboo".
" The king had once been all-powerful but in the end all he had left was one woman and one horse." -Farewell My Concubine (1993)This story is settled in the 17th Century in Siam, Thailand. Where a king and an opera performer find love? Or is it really love? This story dissects the taboo idolatry of Vegas Theerapanyakul and Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham."My intestines were heating up like the sun, and my brain was spilling in half like a cum coconut filled with intrusive thoughts, labyrinth of libido. In this heat I was riding my sex-drive like the waves captured in the skies, and the horses over the horizon line. It was my malnutrition of sex. I needed Pete to milk my rainbow, while I milked his dried. Slurping. I needed all of him, as he needed all of I. So we worked together, like Bonnie and Clyde, two jokers dancing alike underneath Gotham city lights. Smirk." - Vegas Theerapanyakul
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She doesn't even know that she dated a prince
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Young master Damien's pet
"Who touched you?" he asked, his eyes brooding down at her and when she didn't answer, his voice thundered in the room, "WHO?" The butler who stood near the wall spoke shakily, "Sir it was Mr. Reverale," Damien's face turned sour, his jaw ticking in anger he turned his face to the side where the butler stood behind."Bring the man here.""N-now?" stuttered the butler. It was the time of night.Damien who hadn't broken his eyes contact with the girl in front of him pushed his hand against the wall which previously rested beside his beautiful girl's head. Turning his body, he first looked at his butler who had his head bowed. With great courage, the butler came to meet his master's eyes, "Do you have any other better time? Or should it be after I wring your neck?" Damien asked calmly tilting his head. Not a second later, the butler ran out of the room to return back with Mr. Reverale after twenty minutes. "Damien, are we having a late tea party?" Mr. Reverale came to greet but the master of the house had other plans. Spotting the knife that was stuck to the apple on the table, he reached for it to pull it out. Just as Mr. Reverale went to exchange a handshake with him, Damien took hold of his hand to place it on the table. In one swift movement as if he were chopping onions, he chopped the four fingers of the man off his hand making him yelp and cry in pain."No one touches what is mine. I am sure this will remind you the next time you even think about touching her," sighed Damien as if he were tired of telling people to keep their dirty hands off his belongings.
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