Mao

Writer (bio in construction)

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POEMS




@/stardroplet26


Blue, green, black.
Stripes of colours.
A stream caresses down her back,
A mystery of powers.

Blue, green, black.
A cacophony of sounds,
Blending in,
Shifting around.

Blue, green, black.
A mixture of light and dark.
She spreads her wings,
A voice, like a lark.

She carries about with her,
The aura,
A whisperer.
Attracting all of the flora.

This is Mao.



@/Ac3Kat17


How,
Mao,
Does she do everything now,
Does she calculate Tau?
How,
Mao?



@/Albericus
Winters breeze
Winters freeze
Kids playing in snow
People walking low
Winter is here
Lets all give a cheer



POETRY



@/AngelofDeath22


Zombies and monsters and beasts of all sizes
Come in the night to share scary surprises
Some are bloodthirsty and some are quite tame
Some creatures seduce you, some creatures will maim

Unfinished business leads to ghostly haunting
Paranormal encounters can be quite daunting
All Hallows Eve is never the same
Some creatures seduce you, some creatures will maim

Men turn to wolves and howl in the moonlight
Witches fly broomsticks and cackle in delight
Vampires are hunters, and humans their game
Some creatures seduce you, some creatures will maim

When the bat squeaks
When the ghouls scream
When monsters are near
Don't let them hear you, do not make yourself known
Because they'll prey on your fear[/indent]




@/snowyfawn


A blink, a wink away
A slinking serpent comes to play
A thinking game, a smart array,
An intellectual parlay.

Mao’s the dragon’s name.
A bout of boredom is to blame
For her favorite sort of game
That’s sure to set your mind aflame.

And though the rules are clean
And Mao’s intention’s far from mean,
You know that she does not demean
Or any other thing obscene

When playing it is clear
That complications may appear
And defeat may soon be near
For any one of Mao’s kind peers.

So if you’re in the mood
For tricky linguistic etudes
And you think you’ve the fortitude
To withstand her attitude

Then challenge her away
To this game she loves to play
She’ll rap your heart out any day
A battle like this is child’s play!



@/viteralstardust


Feathers and scales,
ranging in brilliant pales,
aqua, turquoise, cyan, mint,
stained with ink the color of flint.

A writer, an artisan, a mystic with power,
Mao creates in every hour,
a magic of words and art,
brought to life with all her heart.



@/thecartoonheart


A claw comes tearing the fabric
The canvas is thrown by a dragoness
Ecstatic
Since when has art become so colorless?

Lack of inspiration
That's the sickness of that poor dragon
Words fleeing
before they can be tamed down
Colours fading
to a earth-brown

So send her your words, she is ready
'Let imagination come back to me"
Mao speaks




@/MisterArtist


She travels the land with a confident stride
a hat on her head, a friend at her side,
And though her quest is no easy task,
still she compels herself always to ask
"Can you give me what I want? Can you give me what I need?
Will you inspire my mind? Will you plant that shining seed?"
And though her coat is the color of sky,
and though steady of heart and keen of eye
At time she feels she is stuck in the mire,
when her energy is spent and she begins to to tire
But she refuses to end her quest till the end,
for you never know what can come from the words of a friend!



@/PastelPhoenix


We all sleep, and we all nap, but what time do we do?
The evening sky is shining with stars, a shade of blue.
This all means what time it is, it's the time of night
You should just go to bed, never try and fight
Fix your pillow, tighten your sheets
Make sure your bed has no monsters underneath
What was that? Monsters you say?
I never see any, not one, at the time of day
They're everywhere, invisible, creeping in the air
You don't believe me? I'm not lying, I swear!
Go check your closet, I'm not kidding, I'm honest
Their breath, it stinks, like the smell of vomit
Once you're done with the monsters, pull up your sheets
Go to bed, make sure you feel at peace
Then go to bed, it's the time of night
Wait in till morning, where no monster strikes.



STORIES



@/RaneInSpane


Angelus fell from the sky into the midst of Vyrn's clan, the dragons closest to her crash site bellowing and crying out in alarm. Omni's eyes were flicking back and forth wildly in their many sockets, as were those of BitingBreeze. Casia was the first to approach, cautiously sniffing as she slowly extended her neck.
“... Are they alive?” Pyx asked anxiously, somehow continually looping through herself.
“Yeah,” Casia murmured, glancing back at the spiral, “But her breathing is weak. I don’t know if she’ll make it…”
Rin galloped over toward the mirror, not even half her size, and gently nudged her head with her own. She immediately laid down beside her and whimpered slightly, concern rising with every passing moment.
Plodding over perhaps slower than he ought to, Vyrn stopped beside the female and observed her alarmingly low body temperature. “She’s freezing,” he murmured, Venom peering over his shoulder only to reel back in shock.
“Free— how is she alive?”
Vyrn shrugged before calling: “Wraith, could you spit some fire near her?” The snapper grunted affirmatively and made almost a gagging sound, coughing up a ball of flame for the freezing mirror.
“She looks… kind of like me,” MidnightMoon whispered. Twilight and Alya muttered agreement at his side, adding that they, too, shared similarities with her. Their shimmering forms were indeed not unlike the mirror’s twisted body, but she was… oddly silver, rather than blue, and could not blend into the night sky as they could.
Rin whimpered again as she nuzzled the dragon, shaking from fear— she couldn’t have someone die in front of her, not again. Vyrn gently reached out to her with a claw and said softly: “Take a break— this is clearly taking a toll on your mental health.” She nodded and rested her cheek against the mirror’s neck one more time before staggering to her feet and sprinting away, stifling sobs. With a sigh Vyrn turned again to the mirror and sat on his haunches. “Please leave, all of you— I don’t want her to be overwhelmed when she wakes up.” He glanced at another form that was oddly cool and called, “Alya, please stay.”
The small imperial, startled, blurted, “M- me?”
“Yes, you,” Vyrn replied calmly. “You share the same pattern as her as well as a similar unusual body temperature. The other two do, as well, but you are… probably the most soothing in nature of you three.” Alya smiled shyly, flattered, and sheepishly mumbled a thanks.
The two of them rested by her chilled form for a few hours, other dragons sometimes coming back to check on them, but for the most part they simply sat in silence.
The sun had crossed the better part of the sky when Alya, nearly dancing with excitement, shook Vyrn awake rather violently. Barely refraining from snarling in alarm, he glared blearily at her until she whispered “She’s stirring!”
He shot to his feet, shaking himself out, and waited with Alya for her to come to her senses.
As the female mirror began to wake, her eyes blinked a number of times before she caught sight of the two of them. When she did, she gasped in a rattling voice: “Who are you? Where am I? What—?”



@/LightningclanLC


Mao breathed in deeply, enjoying the cozy smell of tea boiling over the fireplace during a cold autumn day. Fall was one of her favorite times of the year. The leaves all painted glorious colors of red and gold stirred her memory of when she was just a hatchling herself, wandering through the wondrous forests, sharing adventures with strange and mysterious beasts, and searching for her true purpose. Absentmindedly, Mao wandered over to the fireplace, and retrieved a beautiful little chest about the size of a grown Fae. She stroked its dusty lid affectionately, a soft smile playing on her lips. The kettle started to whistle, interrupting her thoughts of the old days, and Mao quickly placed the chest on the table and rushed to remove the pot from the fire. As she was doing so, she heard a scramble of tiny claws and a couple of knocks at her door.
As Mao opened the door, a chorus of high voices squeaked, “Hi Mao! Can we come in?” On her doorstep, about three or four young hatchlings stared up at her in excitement. Mao smiled warmly. “Of course dears, come on in and warm yourselves by the fire. I’ve just taken the kettle off, we can all have a bit of tea and cakes, and I’ll tell you a story.”
The eager hatchlings scrambled into the warm, welcoming home, throwing off their winter apparel and quickly finding somewhere to sit. After dishing out sweet cakes and miniature cups of hot tea, Mao settled down in a comfortable spot near the fire and smiled at her guests.
“How would younguns like to hear about the time before dragons ruled the lands?” She sipped her tea and began.
“Back in the day before dragons roamed the lands as the king species of the world, there were only elves and dragons throughout the whole continent. Although their tribes are actually quite similar, they had no way to communicate, so eventually a war started against each other. No one really knows how it happened. Some say that an elf killed a baby dragon while hunting. Some say that there wasn't enough food where the dragons lived so they tried to take over the world. Whatever the reason, the dragons and elves fought for many years, with heavy losses on each side. Finally, about fifty years after the war began, a young elf named Silfast saved an abandoned hatchling from a wolf pack. He raised it secretly and named him Rouk, the ancient elven name for wolf. When the dragon had grown up with the elf, they set out and brought an end to the war, showing the tribes how meaningless it was to fight. And so, the two enemies became friends, and even better, they formed an organization where a dragon bonds with an elf and they fight for justice and peace. Everywhere they went, the common folk knew their symbol as a crescent moon and five stars intertwined with each other, symboling the unity of the five elven tribes and the dragons. They were called the Rangers.”
A cute black spiral piped up. “Where are all the Rangers now, Mao?”
Mao laughed. “Oh, they’re all gone now. Sure, sometimes a smart dragon will sometimes find an elf and keep it as a familiar. But the true Rangers, a perfect bond between a dragon and an elf, with pure nobility and righteousness in their blood, have gone. Either they’ve disappeared for lack of evil to fight, or they’ve travelled to far off lands to fight for justice there. But whatever the case, some old dragons still recite a prophesy of a future day when the Rangers will return to fight a battle that will shake our land to its core.”
Tiny gasps of excitement and fright echoed around the spellbound audience. Mao chuckled, breaking the solemn mood.
“Oh, enough of my silly stories. Go outside and play now, its a bit warmer outside.”
As the hatchlings tumbled out into the calm, peaceful day, Mao again wandered back to her table, and unlocked the chest. She reached in and withdrew a single item. A crescent moon intertwined with five stars.



@/Albericus


When I was a kid the world was diffrent. It was full of colors,people got along, and pets roamed around playing with eachother. Then they came we call them the destroyers. For that is what they are. Destroyers of our world. Now we fight amung ourselves for petty reasons.
I used to live with my family. But now I live alone. Why you might ask because my brother betrayed us to the destroyers. He told them where we hid and they slaughtered my family and friends. They thought they got us all but they were wrong. We sit and wait for our moment to strike.
When our moment came we took it. It was a brutal battle but we had won. Barely. As my brother lay in his own blood gasping for air I looked at him and told him "May the gods reject you. You disgraceful beast" As my last word got to him he faded away.
But that is not the end it is the begining. The begining of the dragon empire. Together with what remains we shall rebuild our great dragon race. And we shall be known as saviors and leader of our clans.
[/indent]



@ElysianBird


“Land Ahoy!”
Kirkwell groaned from his hammock. The lookout, Mona, could be so loud when she wanted to be, especially given she was a fae. He rolled onto his side. Kirkwell knew he should really get up, they had been searching for an island the rest at for a full moon cycle at least, but he could hear the rain pouring down outside. He was just a cabin boy, after all, they surely didn’t need him right away.
That was a mistake.
“What’s going o- uughh!” he spluttered as a bucket of water was spilt over him.
Oy, get up,” came the gruff voice of the cook, Toby "Bonny Flint" Mainsail, a shimmering grey bogsneak “we need all claws on deck.”

The rain was warm against his scales and the air felt heavy. Kirkwell ruffled his wings, searching the skyline. He still felt as though they were in the middle of nowhere but there it was, land. It appeared to be a small island, lush with jungle plants, a thick mist that swirled around the rocks, and the distant call of a bird overhead.

Captain Webby flew up to the front of the ship. Supposedly his name used to Webley but Kirkwell had never heard anyone call him that, the only captain he had ever known was the rather adorable and sweet natured Webby.

“Before we send out the longboats, has anyone seen my hat.”
“It’s on ya head Captain!”
“Oh, ah well then we should probably get a move on with those boats then, nevermind!” Webby replied clutching at the feathered hat that sat upon his head with a surprised look. Kirkwell turned, flying off the side of the ship to make sure the long boats were stocked with the right supplies. He had barely landed on the side of the boat before he saw it. A dark shape in the water. It was only there for an instant and then it was gone again, as fast as it had appeared
“Guys!’ He called up to the twins that had been working on the ropes, “Tell me I wasn’t the only one that saw that.”
“Probably just a big fish or something like, ay Jamie”
“Yea, Yea you seen fish round here, right Kirky, not to worry.”
Kirkwell didn’t respond. They were probably right, they were in the ocean, of course, they were going to see fish, it’s where they lived. Still, something felt and Kirkwell was determined to figure out what it was.





ARTS