Nyangoro Blazes

[Nyangoro]

Eh, sure, why not?

Spoiler Show

The drummer picked up his sticks and sat at his instrument. With a single swing, the empty room around him began to take shape.

Badum-tsh-tsh. Tsh. Tsh. Tsh. Tsh. Tsh. Tsh. Tsh. Ba-bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom. Ba-bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom. Patuh tch badabada boom badap-dap boobidibap boom. Bam bam, badum-dum tam tam. Tam tam tam. Badum-dum tam. Badoom bang boom.

A lounge, full of young people. Amber lights setting a melancholy mood. Smoke and over priced liquor as a small-time band played for the audience. A slow build, a steady beat, a jazzy tone that resonated with the very core of its sensitive, if pretentious audience. Quiet admiration, humble in their watching of the beats before them.

Ba-boom tchkitatchikitatchikitatchiktatchikitatchikitatchikita. Pishpishpishpish. Bopidibabop. Babop. Babop. Babababababop. Babop. Bombombom, bodibombom. Bodibombom. Bodibombom. Tam-ting tam-tin dun dun dun dun. Budubadun. Budubadun. Bash bop dash crash. Kash kash kash kash.

A riot in the streets. People running wild. Fire in the air. Smoke in the eyes. Chaos as all manner of matter goes flying. Echoes of explosions drowned out by explosions nearby. Shrapnel the shouts of men, women and children. All angry, an uproar over something they'd all forgotten. The beat in their hearts, a rage pent up, unleashed. Nothing but final cry, the last rush, before only ash would remain.

Top. Top. Top. Top. Boom bah duh doom. Boom bah duh doom. Dim, didee dom. Dim, didee dom. Tam bidee boom dop. Bidee boom dop. Bop. Tsh. Bop. Kling kling. Ting tin. Ta ta ta ta. Ta. Ta. Rapatatata. Rapatatata. Ta. Ta.

The rain pouring. People walking. A peace fills the air, if somber. Walking to and fro. From one place to the next. Footsteps splashing. Wind flapping the tails of their coats. Walking in unison, the rhythm of their city. The rhythm of their lives in this town. Safe. Secure. Unchanging. The kind of peace you hate when it's here, and long for when it's gone.

Bidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidbidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibidibi. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Bash bash bash bash bash bash bash bash bash bash bash. Crash....

The hearkening of what's to come. The unknown, making a fuss of its own arrival. Calling out to the people. Telling them to look. To wait with anticipation, with baited breath. The sound of something. Something they've never seen before. Something that could shake them to their very core. And the people amass, entranced by the sound. And wait. Fear and wonder in their hearts.

And the drum stops. The drummer stands and places his sticks on the snare. He walks out into the world and never looks back. The drummer finished his piece.

 

[KingdomKey]

This is the most unique and artistic entry I've seen yet! C: I'm actually impressed a drummer could paint such a vivid scene with the beat of his drums, almost like he was there or conveying his feelings into the beats of his drum to make others see the world around him as he sees it; kind of like each rhythm of the beats set a different tone to his story telling. I gotta say this was a really compelling story to read and took me a little by surprise with how different it was.

 

[Nyangoro]

Thanks, lol. It was the only thing I could think of that would work within the time frame.

Spoiler Show

The girl found it all on her own. In a place that no one seemed to know. Not a soul came here other than her. It was as though they couldn’t find it. Or maybe they never went looking for it in the first place. After all, it should have been easy enough to find. She did. Just a skip and a step past the bridge over the river that segmented the town in two, in a small grassy meadow off the beaten path. If you looked, you could see a glint of light bouncing off the face of what she found.

A mirror stood without a base in the center of the meadow., about the height of one tall adult and the width of two. Its crystal frame glowed a pale light from its dull edges. The mirror’s surface was flat and straight, without even the tiniest blemish. Only by feeling it with one’s own hands could they be convinced that it wasn’t a door to another place. And that it might lead to such a place would not be such a peculiar thought.

She sat down in front of the mirror, a habit she’d formed over the past week, ever since she first discovered it. The girl stared forward, eyes locked with her reflection. But the reflection wasn’t what anyone would expect to see. Though the height and proportions were the same, and though the reflection followed her actions with the utmost precision, the form that met hers was that of a green and humanoid dragon.

Somehow, the girl could tell. The dragon was as young as she was. Its scaley face had a soft and innocent appearance. Its skin, green as the trees on the edges of the meadow, was free of wrinkles. No matter how she looked at it, this young dragon must have been an entirely different being. And yet, when she moved her head, so did the dragon. When she lifted an arm, so did the dragon. And when she pressed her hand to the surface whenever she thought she could reach the other side, the dragon’s hand rose to meet hers. Her actions were reflected perfectly and without delay.

That wasn’t the only thing unique within the mirror’s frame. Not just the girl, but the entire world itself was morphed into something far different from where she was sitting. The sky was a swirling blend of purple and white, magenta and cyan streaks weaving through the dome like snakes. Rainbow-colored cat-tails spiraled and coiled around one another in the fields beyond the mirror, and in the distance lay buildings of a construction she could only describe as alien. And all manner of floating creature reminded her of the imaginative cartoons she watched every night before bed.

It all looked so fascinating to her, that world beyond the mirror. She looked around her, at her world, and wondered why she was born into this one. Plain grass, plain sky, plain city, plain house, plain parents, plain her, everything was so ordinary and boring. The more she stared into the reflection, the more she wanted to leave this world behind her and go to other side, to leave everything behind. All the boredom would vanish from sight if she could only reach through the mirror.

But whenever she reached out her tiny hand, her dragon counterpart reached out theirs in kind. Hands touching at the threshold, it always stopped her. Everytime she tried to cross over, so did the dragon, and inevitably the two held each other at bay. No matter how many times, again and again, the result was the same. She couldn’t leave. And neither could her mysterious self in the mirror. So she stared. And she kept staring until all that was left to do was go home. All the while, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Why did the dragon look as sad as she did?

Word Count: 654

 

[KingdomKey]

You're welcome, Nyangoro. C:

I've heard of it before that sometimes the reflection is keeping the person at bay from crossing through the mirror. Therefore, I understand how frustrating it must be to tire of one world and want to go to another. Especially if the other world shows a better world full of magical beings and makes you look like a dragon! Such a curious thing, finding a mirror in such a place and a dragon as your reflection. I get the sense this girl wishes to be free of the mundane and has the spirit of a dragon inside of her too; aiming to fly and be free of the ordinary. Very enjoyable read!

 

[Annoyance]

First one was great, very simple. Just short as it needs to be. Visuals you created were crisp... If that's a good word to even use for this.

Second was interesting. What I imagine stemmed from that high 3 am kind of thought of "what if our reflections stop us from going to the other side" becomes real and much more imaginative and the piece allows for more thought to be put into it. More concern and wonder of the other side, the what ifs. What of the dragon, etc.

I thoroughly enjoyed both.