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Old 08-24-2002, 02:06 PM   #1
Jerome
Knight of the Rose
 

Join Date: January 8, 2001
Location: Scotland
Age: 39
Posts: 4,419
*grr... having serve problems posting this...* [img]graemlins/madhell.gif[/img]

Right, it's another story, so if you're not a fan of my writing, or just don't appreciate work being posted here, then feel free to leave now.

For those of you who've read (and hopefully enjoyed) my other works, this one is slightly more "abstract" than the rest, and it comes across as slightly overbearing, or pompus, then I apologise, because it was not my intent. This one is different to the others, and i'm curious to see what you think of it, compared to my old style.

As always, i'd ask for people who like it to post and say so (because bringing people enjoyment is more important in writing than anything else for me), and if you diddn't, to please post and say why, because it will help me improve. [img]smile.gif[/img]
(Also, if my french is off, please don't be too harsh... quite a few times it's deliberate, other times it's probably just my poor grammar)

Anyway, I won't spend too much time with preamble... just read it and see, if you're in the mood for it. [img]smile.gif[/img]

Hope you enjoy it!

La tragédie
(dedicated to Voltaire, the greatest
wit ever to walk the earth)


"You're beatiful in the mornings", he said to her, and wrapped his naked body around hers, along with the bed's covering"

Dawn had arrived some two or three hours ago, and sunlight inquisitively poked it's early morning rays through the gaps in the heavy curtains, making triangular shaped patterns on the bed, and on the intertwined bodies which lay there. It was a beautifully tranquil moment. Only the sounds of the other's breathing sounded in the pairs ears, and their tired bodies complained of slight aches at various parts of the body, but they were pains which were bearable, if not positively enjoyable, in the peace of the new day.

She played a single hand across the defining features of his face, on the valleys of his cheeks and the outcropping of his nose, with light, playful touches. It was a wondrous mix of fascination and adoration that carried her, and the feel of the tiny dark hairs on his unshaven chin brought small tingles of pleasure down her arm. She would have given anything to remain between his large two arms all day, but she couldn't slip away for long, or the other would notice her absence. It took some effort to unlatch herself from her lover's embrace, and to bring herself to get out of bed, and begin dressing. Her partner looked at her with mischievous intent from the bed while she gathered her clothes and other items from around the room.

"If you were to stay a few more minutes, no one would notice." he intoned, smiling at the underlying proposal. The woman sighed, stopped and kissed him on the forehead.

"You have no idea." she whispered, before going to get dressed.

***********

L'amour had always viewed these meeting with severe distaste. They were hugely overdone, in her mind - overflowing with arrogant self-importance at every available opportunity. To be truthful, all of the other gods had this less-than-enviable high opinion of themselves, the self-assured, egotistical mindset, which she looked on so disapprovingly.

Even the surroundings they had chosen of themselves oozed with unnecessary opulence. It was a huge, ornate hall that their eldest member (and thus their chief) had chosen on this occasion. Huge, almost beyond human measurements, and crafted out of pure gold and silver, for the most part, with jewels and glittering stones not found on any earthly continent, it was the embodiment of lavish ostentatiousness. Around the long table in the centre, the gods were all seated, feasting with unrivalled gluttony on foods and wines modelled on those in the world of mortals. For all extents and purposes, it was like a scene from the medieval period on Earth.

She was sitting to the right of Jalousie, the eldest god, at the head of the table, being second in age only to him. L'amour never truly enjoyed these rambunctious and noisy affairs, they did not sit well with her personality, or with her idea of godhood, but she endured them, because eventually they would get down to business, and she had to be here to see to their charges, the humans.

The gods, unlike mortals, were not shaped by the previous looks of their sires, but had their looks conforming to their own personalities. L'amour was beautiful, when fully beheld by eyes worthy of seeing her. She had the fairest frame of all the gods, with a soft, tender and delicate skin, an unblemished face, topped by an awing and cascading waterfall of golden hair. There were none of the other gods, not even Convoitise or La Connaissance, that were anywhere near as beautiful as she, though by way of deceptive make-up and clothing, they often appeared as such. From a distance, perhaps, L'amour could be mistaken as ugly, or even hateful, but upon delving deep into her deathless eyes, no one could deny that she was the most fair of all the other governors of mankind.

They were beginning to quiet now, the food slowing both the physical and mental movements of the assembled host (except for Bigoterie, who continued to feed himself and deprive the others of food, no matter what was placed before him). Jalousie took this moment to begin the meeting in earnest, like he always did, being one of the most scheming and devious of them all. He pushed his magnificently gilded chair back, and stood to his full height to address the entire table. He was one of the largest, most brutish of the gods, though his face could be seen as handsome, in his lighter moments. Eight feet in height, with a shaggy black beard at least half that length; he was a terrifying figure to behold in a rage, though at the moment he seemed in good humour.

"My brothers, my sisters, I see you've enjoyed your meal!" His words were like cannonfire irrupting, a dramatic effect which L'amour rolled her eyes at. "But we have business to be attending to, as well you know." There was a mixed noise of half-hearted grumbles and the squeaking of chairs on the marble flooring as they all shifted to sit slightly closer, and to attempt to look mildly interested. The meetings were a regular enough thing, time here did not function normally, but it was roughly once every human month... or whenever they felt like it.

"To begin with, there's the matter of the war between those two uncultured regions of Europe. Has anyone got any preferences as to the winners?" Jalousie began, with typical aloofness. L'amour bit her lip with anger. The sheer uncaring they all showed never ceased to amaze and anger her.

"Let there be heavy casualties on either side, and then let them call a truce. One of the nations produces fine wines, and the other splendid cheeses, and there's no point in losing them for some pointless squabble." Jalousie slapped this god on the back, while laughing.

"We have a wit among us tonight, my family" he boomed, "a wit indeed!"

And so the evening proceeded, settling matters of minor and major importance, L'amour trying to quell her rage as best she could, but Jalousie was picking subjects and cases which she felt strongly about. She was beginning to wonder if he had some sort of ulterior motive, for trying to get a reaction from her, when he began announcing the last of the items for discussion.

"Now usually, as well you're all aware, we don't interfere greatly in the lives of single mortals, mostly because it is far too tedious. However, I think we should make an exception in the case of this man "Bonheur". He made sure to stress each syllable of the name, and looked directly at his eldest sibling while he done so. L'amour flew to her feet in an instant, knocking her ornate chair over in her quickness.

"You have no right to play the part of fate! Their lives are their own, and we should have no bearing on them! You are full of pomp and arrogance, Jealousie! Can you not desist for a little while and leave them to their own affairs?!" L'amour screamed at him, bringing silence to the rest of the table's mutter whisperings. The entirety of the assembled gods looked at her in surprise, and even in slight amazement.

"Ah, L'amour. Now what provoked that small outburst? You have been silent all evening, and indeed, rarely talk at all to any of us now. Instead you wring your hands in frustration at our speeches and declarations and keep your thoughts to yourself. " He snarled, in a mocking tone. Drawing himself up to his full height, be begun to dictate to the rest of them, walking in a slow walk around the table while he spoke. "Now, on the fates of nations and races, you show little interest, but at the name of this one man you break your sullen silence and dare to lecture me? You'll have to agree with me, there must be something that perhaps you're not telling us?" His tone had changed now, into one of heavy sarcasm, with the words thinly veiling the threatening nature of what he said.

L'amour was silent, cursing herself for letting herself be provoked.

"And now she is silent once again!" Jealousie roared his exaggerated vocal display of anger shaking the very foundations of the tremendous hall. "You dare to stand there and refuse to talk as though we are not worthy of your attentions, but this mere mortal is!" He had made a full circle now, and was standing just behind her. L'amour stood, shaking mildly, but refusing to turn and look at her Chieftain.

"The ancient law has been broken." He whispered softly, in a sudden change of tone, but it made the words seem even more menacing. They set off a chain reaction of deep intakes of breath, more hushed exclamations and rapid whispers between the rest of the gods - all their eyes fixed on L'amour, who had tears in her eyes.

"My eldest sister has made contact with the humans, and more, has given one the favour of her charms."

The rest of the gods were on their feet now, shouting and hurling abuses and scorn towards L'amour, and the few who tried to defend her. All around them, the huge hall was filled with the sounds of anger and uproar. It was at this point, when L'amour's tears ran into a river, that she felt a pair of powerful hands touch her shoulders, and the slightest feel of a soft wind on her cheek. She opened her eyes, and in mild suprise was not greeted by the sight of angry gods, but of a small study, which was quiet and empty. Empty, apart from the hulking figure of Jealousie, who stepped from behind her, and made his way to the small desk in the centre of the room, which was overflowing with papers, maps and diagrams of all sizes and colours.

"So you make no attempt to explain yourself?" He asked, sighing as he did so and easing himself into the chair before the heavy traffic of his workplace. L'amour wiped a few of the tears from her eyes, before she answered, speaking as quietly and as meekly as she ever had.

"I love him."
"Love? You, a ageless deity *love* a mere assemblance of meat and bones, destined to live for but a few decades?"
"I love him." she answered, bowing her head. Jealousie took a moment before answering, letting L'amour suffer in the pangs of her embarrassment for a little while.
"It is forbidden, you're well aware. I will not allow you to break our laws and revoke my judgements. You shall not see him again." Far from being angry, Jealousie sounded weary, as if burdened by some great mass on his person, which he could not relieve himself of.

He got to his feet, with slow, deliberate movements, and came just a few feet in front of her, and placed his mighty hands on his shoulders. She did not look up, but could feel his stare on her downturned face. Lightly, he brushed a strand of her hair aside, and put his hand on her chin, and brought her up so that she was looking into his eyes.

"There are others, my pretty sister, who are not forbidden to you, who could command power beyond your reckoning at but a word from you. Who would make the entire race of humanity bow and worship your every movement, if you so desired it? Do not look to the world of mortals, my dear, for there is nothing there but pain and misery." His whispers, close in her ear brought fresh tears to her face, as she tried to form words she knew would not be well received.

"I want nothing of power, of dominance or of control over others... I just want the love of the mortal, Bonheur... and if I must sacrifice everything, including my divinity, then I shall, without hesitation." She said, holding her head high is a small show of defiance. Jealousie sighed heavily, and turned back to his desk, no longer looking at her at all.

"If you wish to give up your divinity, I shall not stand I your way. This foolishness has been learned from time with the mortals, and it will not bring you happiness, however much you should think it. Go if you will. It is your choice." With that, he turned back to his work, and paid her no more heed, and without the slightest effort on her part, she was gone from his room in a moment.

***********

"I didn't think you were going to make it." He said to her, smiling as bent to kiss her on her lips. She returned his affection, and wrapped her arms around him lovingly, as she had always longed to do, without fear of being caught or having to hide parts of herself from him. She was free to love him however she could. "And you said you don't have to leave anymore? That we can finally leave this place, and go travelling?" he asked, once their passionate embrace had ended.

"We can go, there's nothing stopping us now." She answered, her eyes dancing in the sunlight. She had arranged to meet him up here, where she had came down as often as she could while she was still divine, and gaze from the high cliffs, over the sea, and into the horizon, where all the beauty of existence seemed to be. There was something about the sea she loved, and as the sun rose from his watery bed today, she could feel the love and warmth of the new day spreading around her. She was truly alive now.

Bonheur left her arms for a moment, and turned to face the awe-inspiring view of the ocean. Resting his arms on the sturdy little metal railing, he began to speak to her about what they were going to do together, and how he would show her a hundred and one things that she would love more than he. Almost hypnotised by his words, she leaned back on the bonnet of his car, pleased to drift off into a happy state of sheer contentment.

A golden pen, scribbling furiously on one of his parchemtns on a desk, began drawing intricate designs, which slowly built up into a series of pictures, almost like a divine comic

"I've told you a bit about my family, and they'll love you as much as I do, I'm sure..."

The image of a little clear area atop a high cliff over the sea became evident, a little platform falling away into a precarious rockface, and then to
the churning water below


"It's not that long a drive from here, probably an hour or something, and then we're on the highway, and it'll take us no time at all..."

Now a figure with his face towards the sea can be seen. His body resting on the metal fence which lines the small platform for the safety of people on it

"If you're hungry, we'll stop and grab something to eat before we head out... I'm not sure how many places there'll be to eat at along the way..."

The fence is much more detailed now. It can be seen that it is in segments, supporting each other by way of heavy screws, tightened so that huge amounts of force would need to be exerted to move them

"But anyway, we should get going. We can beat the morning traffic if we set off just now."

Now the screws are moving, unscrewing, as if by some invisible hand, and then falling away to the watery plain below. The figure, still resting his weight on the railing, panics, and tries to regain his balance, as the section he is leaning on begins to give way. He cannot right himself, however, and as the railing drops away, he cannot do anything but claw at the air as he follows it.

There is a picture of a young lady on her knees now, her face pressed into the ground, her arms tearing at her beautiful golden hair. A small, wet patch forms, not part of the picture, but a small tear, fallen from the author's eyes.


[ 08-24-2002, 03:44 PM: Message edited by: Jerome ]
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Old 08-24-2002, 03:39 PM   #2
Sir ReGiN
Gold Dragon
 

Join Date: August 11, 2001
Location: The land of blonde virgins
Age: 43
Posts: 2,563
Very good story Jerome! [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img]
I enjoyed it very much!

There was only one thing, if I could make a suggestement..
Instead of "You're beautiful in the mornings," he said to her, wrapping his naked body around hers, and wrapping the bed's coverings around them."
I would write it; "You're beatiful in the mornings", he said to her, and wrapped his naked body around hers, along with the bed's covering"

Just a minor thing, but other than that I thought it was very good!
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Old 08-24-2002, 03:43 PM   #3
Jerome
Knight of the Rose
 

Join Date: January 8, 2001
Location: Scotland
Age: 39
Posts: 4,419
Thanks, Regin. You've got a point about that sentance, and your shortened form sounds closer to what I imagined than my version came. [img]smile.gif[/img]

I was afraid this was going to drop without anyone looking at it.
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Old 08-24-2002, 04:17 PM   #4
Kaltia
Jack Burton
 

Join Date: May 2, 2002
Location: Canterbury, England
Age: 38
Posts: 5,817
I like it, Romey [img]smile.gif[/img]
Congratulations! [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img]
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Old 08-24-2002, 09:19 PM   #5
K T Ong
Symbol of Cyric
 

Join Date: January 27, 2002
Location: Plateau of Singapore
Age: 62
Posts: 1,230
A bit like the music of Maurice Ravel turned into literary prose, isn't it?
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Old 08-24-2002, 09:26 PM   #6
Jerome
Knight of the Rose
 

Join Date: January 8, 2001
Location: Scotland
Age: 39
Posts: 4,419
The what-now who-where? *blank look* [img]tongue.gif[/img]

[ 08-24-2002, 09:27 PM: Message edited by: Jerome ]
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Old 08-24-2002, 09:35 PM   #7
K T Ong
Symbol of Cyric
 

Join Date: January 27, 2002
Location: Plateau of Singapore
Age: 62
Posts: 1,230
Uhhh... You don't know Ravel?
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Old 08-24-2002, 09:38 PM   #8
Jerome
Knight of the Rose
 

Join Date: January 8, 2001
Location: Scotland
Age: 39
Posts: 4,419
You'll have to forgive me: i'm not exactly well travelled in the world, or highly educated in classical music (which is just a bloody guess at what it is... I don;t have a clue).
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Old 08-24-2002, 10:02 PM   #9
K T Ong
Symbol of Cyric
 

Join Date: January 27, 2002
Location: Plateau of Singapore
Age: 62
Posts: 1,230
Hey, same here. I don't travel much, either (can't afford it), and I'm not exactly trained in classical music, either -- I just listen to a lot of it, that's all, but otherwise can't play any instrument.

Maurice Ravel (1875 ~ 1937); French composer. You must listen to some of his pieces, such as his sad, sweet Pavane Pour Une Infante Defunte. I was just so strongly reminded of his music by your little piece of prose. Guess it's the French title and the rather... uhhh... provocative opening scene...
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Old 08-25-2002, 02:21 AM   #10
Downunda
Set - Egyptian God of Chaos
 

Join Date: January 7, 2002
Location: Christchurch, New Zealand
Age: 46
Posts: 2,975
You continue to amaze me dude, keep it up [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img]
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