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Real FatherI want you, the readers, to know some things about this fic before it begins; this is a "What if" fic. On a forum, there was a discussion about who Spyro's father might be, and of course most were focusing on talking about Ignitus, since he is pretty much the only likely candidate(I, myself, strongly support Ignitus being Spyro's father) ; however, one person came along and said that Ignitus can't be Spyro's father, because it's too obvious; this is a ridiculous reason to me, but in any case, I responded and said that even if they aren't related by blood, Ignitus and Spyro still share a strong father-son bond. After much arguing on the subject, the person even went so far as to say that when Spyro's "real" parents come along, Spyro will leave Ignitus and go with them, and forget about Ignitus, because "bloodline is all that matters". And then, he even denied that Spyro and Ignitus share such a bond(it's plainly obvious that they do, and it's official info that they do; the official sit
Ignitus 01: LaughterIgnitus 01: Laughter
The Temple's balcony had always been the perfect spot from which to watch sunrises and sunsets, or any wonder of the sky, in fact. Its view of the horizon was wide and unobstructed; the platform was built high enough to ascertain that the landscape would only add to the natural portrait.
Resultingly, one might have thought Ignitus was standing on the balcony for the purpose of watching the day's end displaying itself in the sky. The mixture of shades of red, orange, and pink the setting sun was producing seemed particularly eye-catching that time, so the assumption was certainly a logical one. And yet, all the same, it was an incorrect one.
Although the Fire Guardian did, indeed, have his gaze fixated upon the horizon, he was giving no attention to the scene before him, nor his surroundings, for that matter. His mind was too preoccupied with thinking of the situation that all the residents of the temple, himself included, were in. The orange eyes were simply starin
AndromedaAmongst the darkened skies
Brightened by only starlight
Field & Sea.
Gravity is only an afterthought
Hilltops become ladders into the sky while
Inferior planets stare down upon the Earth
Jealous of such simplicity yet contemplating grandeur.
Keppler only thought of science
Linear, elliptical, movement…
Mythology had no such thoughts
Neptune & Nebulas both inhabit space
Orbiting across the lonely darkness
Probably never worried about mundane things
Questioning their existence
Right now or for all eternity such as us.
Shooting stars make us joyful while
Terminator is an otherworldly spectacle
Unknown to all those hidden in their houses
Various stars await us outside
Waiting to play like we did before
Xenagogue & inviting
Youthful but ancient curiosities.
Zenith induced euphoria continues until daylight…
dead dog julyI.
the summer heat lays limp in the city’s lap,
breathing long oppressive breaths.
it does not even lift its lolling head
to bark out hoarse indignancy
when a strange man brings the mail.
there might be heavy rain today,
brought by some swollen, murmuring cloud.
the world will whirl and howl,
then settle down,
to die a little more.
o, quickly, love,
press your back against the wall in fear
as the universe spreads her arms and
shuts her eyes
and starts to summon the end of all things.
come with me
to the place of windows full of speechless afternoon
hot windy whispers of half-formed solutions and resolutions,
sweltering sunlit meadows we’ll wander and then forget.
o quickly, love,
let’s to the season of forgetting
and unwind all of our harshest memories
and fill the universe’s mouth
with mute cotton.
i’ll whisper these words to you some evening
with all my exigency in the hand i rest on your arm—
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