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The Uniting of Vegas.
Even Boone couldn't be too down as the group entered Freeside at long last; their steps were light, they'd traded all their winter equipment in after descending the mountain and were now back to their signature selves: the Courier in hoodie, boots, beret, cargos, machete dangling at her hip; Boone in cargos, beret, undershirt, rifle slung over his back, sunglasses masking his cold eyes, and Arcade in his long Follower's jacket, thick black frames, his blond hair the brightest thing on the block.
Their smiles and lightheartedness would soon come crashing down when one of the Kings, loitering by the Freeside gate, gave them a very serious look. "King's lookin' for you guys, told me to--"
As the blond girl's smile faded to a look of concern, the King himself came through the once-rail car gateway, walking toward them. Rex was alongside him, and now the dog bolted from the man, recognizing Boone. Recognizing the urgency with which the man was advancing, the
The Thoughts of a GhostThe streets of this place are empty
Vast and cold like the sea
Life is gone replaced by rot
Devoid of life, the Madre stands caught
Standing frozen in time all around
Consumed by the evil that is the Cloud
Bodies move through the streets
Soulless, breathless, they do not think
They capture the greedy, the evil, they then depart
And drag them away into the Villa's dark heart
But in this gloom, a new being lies
A miracles awakes, seeing the world through new eyes
It can feel, see, hear, and know
Viewing everything in a foggy green glow
Curious it wishes to know more
What lies below the Madre's old door
It now travels the land
Trudging through rocks, water, and sand
Looking for a way to clear the Cloud so thick
To find a cure for the Ghost People who are so sick
It has a name, it's name is Seeker
It is a person, I am Seeker
To know, to grow, to think, to feel
I take pride in my name with great zeal
To love, to learn, to live
Hope is the gift I wish to give
I am a Ghost, My name is Seeker
Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
with its branching hallways
furniture rooted to the floor
family, friends, the occasional
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
Let the door's
loosen—let the door stand ajar
be let open
the night owls and
let the doves
in pairs in the iridescent
Let the sparrows in.
Framed on either side
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More