Crystal Ayers
Bio
Merely an aspiring author drifting by on the tides. Spinning phrases to build worlds to paint portraits to fill space; allowing symphonies of lyrical colloquy to fill the time as it flows.
Stories (32/0)
Power Pears
Humanity a beloved creation of the gods, once befriended and protected by the superior magical race of dragons. Until the day someone ate a spoiled forbidden fruit. Myths have it wrong, you see they say the first humans ate a forbidden fruit plucking it from the trees. However that’s only half true, the fruit was fallen and easier to reach expecting it to have the same taste Adam ingested the fermenting apple, gaining the influence of negative thoughts. Apples were the fruit of wisdom, knowledge and creativity, yet when they spoiled the thoughts would run cynic.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction
Fairies... and chill?
In the mortal worlds, most humans say that dreamscapes are remnants of memories; or perhaps cognizance trick. However in the realms of magic, a mere dream can be much more dangerous. Death in a dreamscape is easy, although visiting a dream is rarer. However powerful beings can always call you against your will. If there is a connection between two souls, a resonance or simple summoning can be done even with weakened powers, unless someone had a blessing to protect them.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction
Forbidden Lights
Stereotypes say that children are starting to find themselves at fourteen, they’ve tanned, bruised and experienced the world with friends. There are however always outliers, for instance one ghost like child who hasn’t set foot outside the sterile floor he was brought to as a child. Gadget more frequently called Number-27 was raised in a sanatorium where even sunlight was never seen. When he wasn’t being groomed into a surgeon or perhaps a mad-scientist he was confined to a tiny cell, the room was padded in white, furnished with a simple cot that had thin blankets and a flat pillow, a small chest of drawers. A divider at the foot of the room concealed a makeshift washroom, making the room feel smaller and more uninviting.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction
In-pasta bull run
Sploosh. A red tepid rain washed over the unsuspecting nine-year-old clad in white, a groan escaped her as she spat out a mouthful of the watery sauce. The herbal scent burned her nose as she looked towards the sky and saw a busboy rushing away from an upper window, the girl closed her eyes. Inhaling deeply she slowly opened her eyes gray blue, reflecting the cloudy sky above her the girl brushed the sauce from her face with her sleeve. Pale tanned skin stained red from the lingering heat and tomato made her look feverish, her platinum white hair was holding the color as well as her formerly white blouse. A sigh spilled from her lips.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction
Blazing Boxes, Burning Memories
Thirteenth Avenue, an inconspicuous strip stateside ending with a cul-de-sac in the hub of all things happening. If you wanted to know something, find someone or get something done you went to Thirteenth, everyone knew it, thirteen was the lucky number for those who knew what to ask or who to call. You could find a bit of culture at every corner, and a friendly neighbor at every turn. It didn’t matter who you were, what you stood for, what you liked or believed in; On Thirteenth you were as safe as could be and respected.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction
Science the eye Can't See
In the depths of a forest in New Jersey there was a strange old barn, it had no doors; yet it was full of well kept tools. The machines were old, but well maintained, and used often to haul in harvest after harvest. A small farm, surrounded by a creek, endless woods, bountiful fields and cliffs. It was a poor area to cultivate crops, and seemed to have been abandoned long ago. Even so, one family ran a grainery; they dabbled in bakery commerce with a simple name: Feldspar Bakery & Grain. Despite how much product they pushed out, there were no outside farm hands, and no visitors to their fields.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction
Legend of Inane
Ryzania: Once a land known for beautiful landscapes of endless greenery, now a smoldering landscape nearly uninhabitable by mortalkind. The fae-kin departed the world, either fleeing to another or entering eternal rest with a majority of the original inhabitants of the land. Children born during the crusade never knew the country’s glory, merely the darkness of the tunnels to which they found their homes. However, a few fae kin remained, attempting to right the wrongs of the war. They were considered seraphs, with ashy gray wings, and tan skin which contrasted the wingless pale mortals. Seraphs had exquisite features which were exhausted from their exposure to endless rains, while the mortals had a more delicate appearance, which appeared dirty and worn from their lives underground.
By Crystal Ayers3 years ago in Fiction