Corner of the Sky [1/?]
anonymous
October 26 2010, 02:20:39 UTC
The eagle was beautiful. That was the first thought that ran through Arthur's head when he saw it. Breath-taking. Gorgeous, even. “Magnificent,” he breathed. He was so enraptured by the bird that he almost forgot about the camera he held. Luckily he remembered himself enough to take a few pictures of the eagle before it flew out of sight. That evening when he returned to his campsite he looked over the shots he'd taken. Although the bird was still beautiful, it was not nearly as entrancing as in real life. The Englishman fell asleep murmuring words of adoration to the eagle. The next morning Arthur cooked bacon - extra-crispy, not burned - and toast - he meant to drop it into the fire dammit! - and thought about the eagle. This was the reason he'd gone on this trip to the Adirondacks, leaving the city that never sleeps far behind. He like taking pictures of natural beauty. Not that he was doing poorly in NYC, no he was a rather successful and respected photographer, though his generally prickly attitude didn't win him any friends...or clients. Arthur had started his photography career in Paris when one of his former classmates, Francis Bonnefoy, had decided to become a model and had hired Arthur as a photographer. When Francis had moved to New York Arthur had followed on the Frenchman's money. To this day he was still regularly requested by Francis and his wife, Chelle, who was also a model. The couple was famous, and, as a result, Arthur was as well. Arthur cleaned up his campsite and packed water and food for a hike. He was planning on returning to the place where he'd spotted the eagle the day before in hopes seeing the bird again.
Re: Corner of the Sky [1/?]
anonymous
October 29 2010, 04:54:58 UTC
OOOH this is interesting anon please continue I like your style!!
Just one thing remember to space new paragraphs or it gets annoying to read...Please udpate! The eagle was beautiful. That was the first thought that ran through Arthur's head when he saw it. Breath-taking. Gorgeous, even.
“Magnificent,” he breathed. He was so enraptured by the bird that he almost forgot about the camera he held. Luckily he remembered himself enough to take a few pictures of the eagle before it flew out of sight.
Corner of the Sky [2/?]
anonymous
October 31 2010, 02:42:47 UTC
When he reached the spot the eagle was already there, almost as if it was waiting for him. It was perched majestically on a branch, wings gracefully tucked back. The creature's whole bearing screamed freedom in the most regal way possible.
Arthur quickly recovered from his daze and began to take pictures of the bird. Then he began to murmur encouragement to his animal subject.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. The eagle, almost as if it had heard him and wanted to prove itself worthy of more praise, stretched its wings out wide, revealing its full wingspan.
A gasp escaped from the photographer's lips before he could stop it. The bird did not flee as he'd feared it would, but instead gazed straight at the man. Arthur froze until the eagle made an encouraging screech. It was almost like the bird wanted his attention.
Arthur returned to the spot day after day, and day after day the bald eagle was waiting for him. As more time passed, Arthur began to compliment the graceful creature more. Lingering thoughts of the bird's beauty became voiced praises. He told the eagle how pretty he thought it was, how gorgeous, how magnificent, how perfect. Praises of its beauty and power flowed from his lips so easily.
He was never this nice to his regular models. Generally he shouted and cursed and insulted his subjects to get pictures that he could be proud of. He could often get beautiful pictures from mediocre models by cussing at them and telling them that they should spend their time getting acting lessons instead of puking what little they ate into the toilet. Even Francis and Chelle didn't escape from his scathing insults, though what he hurled at the couple wasn't nearly as harsh as what he said to others, and he did take amazing pictures, so people dealt with his prickly personality and moved on.
He had spent days photographing the bald eagle. He had more breath-taking shots than he knew what to do with. Arthur decided to spend the afternoon on a hike taking pictures of the landscape after spending the whole morning with the bird.
He was at the edge of a cliff when the eagle flew past him. He rushed forward, camera in hand. One step too far and his feet tried to push against the empty air, but he was flying, falling, plummeting.
Then something grabbed him and he abruptly stopped his descent. He cautiously opened his eyes, unsure of when they had squeezed shut, and saw the distant ground below him. A choked exclamation of terror lept from his throat.
That cry was met with a familiar screech. Arthur gripped the strap holding his camera around his neck, praying that the eagle would somehow be able to hold him.
The earth grew farther and farther away as they flew higher and higher. The Englishman was still afraid that at any moment he would fall to his death. There was no way a normal bird, even a predator, could lift a full-grown man. He was just dead and didn't know it yet.
The eagle gently placed the young man on the floor of the mountain cave. Arthur blinked at the feeling of the ground beneath him. He let himself collapse and reveled in the security of the rock he lay on. His feathered savior flapped over to him and shrieked in a way that seemed like an attempt to communicate.
The Brit smiled at the bird, a soft but warm and genuine smile, a rare thing for him. Then he spoke to it, “Thank you,” he whispered.
The eagle tilted its head, then blinked. Wait. Did eagles have eyelids?
The bird's form began to warp, slowly growing larger; its wings shifted to its back, and arms began to grow where they'd left. Its whole body grew larger, its legs stretching until they were longer than Arthur's. Then the feathers began to grow closer to its body, merging into the flesh.
Arthur scrambled backwards until he ran into a rock wall. The creature's coloring began to change, the body lightening from brown to a light tan, parts of the head darkening to that same tan color and parts darkening to a sunny gold. The beak stretched and split into a mouth and nose. The golden eyes slid towards the center of the head and changed from metallic yellow to a beautifully deep sky blue. Then the creature's wings shot into its back and Arthur was left staring at a man. A very handsome man. A very handsome naked man.
Re: Corner of the Sky [2/?]
anonymous
November 11 2010, 22:52:18 UTC
So. Awesome.
omg I really love your style!! It's so cute and sweet and I really like the bit where he finally meets Alfred- that was so skilfully done. Reminds me a little of the old dragon!Al fill before but this is completely different and it's really really good!
“Magnificent,” he breathed. He was so enraptured by the bird that he almost forgot about the camera he held. Luckily he remembered himself enough to take a few pictures of the eagle before it flew out of sight.
That evening when he returned to his campsite he looked over the shots he'd taken. Although the bird was still beautiful, it was not nearly as entrancing as in real life. The Englishman fell asleep murmuring words of adoration to the eagle.
The next morning Arthur cooked bacon - extra-crispy, not burned - and toast - he meant to drop it into the fire dammit! - and thought about the eagle. This was the reason he'd gone on this trip to the Adirondacks, leaving the city that never sleeps far behind. He like taking pictures of natural beauty. Not that he was doing poorly in NYC, no he was a rather successful and respected photographer, though his generally prickly attitude didn't win him any friends...or clients.
Arthur had started his photography career in Paris when one of his former classmates, Francis Bonnefoy, had decided to become a model and had hired Arthur as a photographer. When Francis had moved to New York Arthur had followed on the Frenchman's money. To this day he was still regularly requested by Francis and his wife, Chelle, who was also a model. The couple was famous, and, as a result, Arthur was as well.
Arthur cleaned up his campsite and packed water and food for a hike. He was planning on returning to the place where he'd spotted the eagle the day before in hopes seeing the bird again.
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Just one thing remember to space new paragraphs or it gets annoying to read...Please udpate!
The eagle was beautiful. That was the first thought that ran through Arthur's head when he saw it. Breath-taking. Gorgeous, even.
“Magnificent,” he breathed. He was so enraptured by the bird that he almost forgot about the camera he held. Luckily he remembered himself enough to take a few pictures of the eagle before it flew out of sight.
Reply
Arthur quickly recovered from his daze and began to take pictures of the bird. Then he began to murmur encouragement to his animal subject.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. The eagle, almost as if it had heard him and wanted to prove itself worthy of more praise, stretched its wings out wide, revealing its full wingspan.
A gasp escaped from the photographer's lips before he could stop it. The bird did not flee as he'd feared it would, but instead gazed straight at the man. Arthur froze until the eagle made an encouraging screech. It was almost like the bird wanted his attention.
Arthur returned to the spot day after day, and day after day the bald eagle was waiting for him. As more time passed, Arthur began to compliment the graceful creature more. Lingering thoughts of the bird's beauty became voiced praises. He told the eagle how pretty he thought it was, how gorgeous, how magnificent, how perfect. Praises of its beauty and power flowed from his lips so easily.
He was never this nice to his regular models. Generally he shouted and cursed and insulted his subjects to get pictures that he could be proud of. He could often get beautiful pictures from mediocre models by cussing at them and telling them that they should spend their time getting acting lessons instead of puking what little they ate into the toilet. Even Francis and Chelle didn't escape from his scathing insults, though what he hurled at the couple wasn't nearly as harsh as what he said to others, and he did take amazing pictures, so people dealt with his prickly personality and moved on.
He had spent days photographing the bald eagle. He had more breath-taking shots than he knew what to do with. Arthur decided to spend the afternoon on a hike taking pictures of the landscape after spending the whole morning with the bird.
He was at the edge of a cliff when the eagle flew past him. He rushed forward, camera in hand. One step too far and his feet tried to push against the empty air, but he was flying, falling, plummeting.
Then something grabbed him and he abruptly stopped his descent. He cautiously opened his eyes, unsure of when they had squeezed shut, and saw the distant ground below him. A choked exclamation of terror lept from his throat.
That cry was met with a familiar screech. Arthur gripped the strap holding his camera around his neck, praying that the eagle would somehow be able to hold him.
The earth grew farther and farther away as they flew higher and higher. The Englishman was still afraid that at any moment he would fall to his death. There was no way a normal bird, even a predator, could lift a full-grown man. He was just dead and didn't know it yet.
The eagle gently placed the young man on the floor of the mountain cave. Arthur blinked at the feeling of the ground beneath him. He let himself collapse and reveled in the security of the rock he lay on. His feathered savior flapped over to him and shrieked in a way that seemed like an attempt to communicate.
The Brit smiled at the bird, a soft but warm and genuine smile, a rare thing for him. Then he spoke to it, “Thank you,” he whispered.
The eagle tilted its head, then blinked. Wait. Did eagles have eyelids?
The bird's form began to warp, slowly growing larger; its wings shifted to its back, and arms began to grow where they'd left. Its whole body grew larger, its legs stretching until they were longer than Arthur's. Then the feathers began to grow closer to its body, merging into the flesh.
Arthur scrambled backwards until he ran into a rock wall. The creature's coloring began to change, the body lightening from brown to a light tan, parts of the head darkening to that same tan color and parts darkening to a sunny gold. The beak stretched and split into a mouth and nose. The golden eyes slid towards the center of the head and changed from metallic yellow to a beautifully deep sky blue. Then the creature's wings shot into its back and Arthur was left staring at a man. A very handsome man. A very handsome naked man.
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I'm sorry I'm late, I didn't notice! I'm so happy you filled darling!
I love where your going with this! Yes, Alfred is a very handsome bird. Very handsome naked man, ftw~!
Please continue!
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omg I really love your style!! It's so cute and sweet and I really like the bit where he finally meets Alfred- that was so skilfully done. Reminds me a little of the old dragon!Al fill before but this is completely different and it's really really good!
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