  Quote of the Day : You can't be a real country unless you have a beer and an airline. It helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a beer- Frank Zappa Rambles : Well, i'm re-posting the little work I did on the Seth Leon series a long time ago.
I think I did a fair job on it, and I touched up on it a bit earlier on. Shit, when I woke up, I had a blank mind, and tried working on some fiction, but I almost went crazy. So I put on the classical music and fell asleep. I feel better, but still blank. Anyways, SIT back and enjoy Seth Leon.
Creative Writing : The Lament for Tommorow Chapter One The sky seemed chaotic, with so many explosions occurring at once, and each one a different hue than the other. The festivities on the ground were just as frenzied, with countless people dancing and singing, often drinking while performing these two activities. It seemed everything was well, and it denied the onlookers any sight of the evil afoot. But such merrymaking often does, and is the result of the fearful nature of man who tries to escape whatever problems they may have by simply declining the truth, and covering it up with make-up. This was the case of the current on goings, for outside the decorated city’s stone walls a war was going on.
Men, and women alike, were being slaughtered by already stained swords. And this, all whilst the people of Paleno drunk themselves into stupors of happiness. They, who were fleeing from these worries, would be caught sooner or later. Only one man that night saw this, but he was no wise man of the court, nor was he the ruler. From his window, Seth watched the members of this defiance-of-truth dance, following a single woman, dressed more spectacular than anyone else, as she dodged through the many twisting streets of Paleno.
It seemed like they would follow this woman anywhere, be it a happier place, be it possible, or a more depressing state. Seth wondered whether they would pursue her to death, which lay with baited breath outside the city’s stately gates. “Tonight, may God forgive you all for lying to both yourself, and Earth herself.” Seth muttered under his breath, so alike to a prayer, except devoid of his two hands clasping each other.
And Seth watched on from his small jail cell, positioned atop a tower reaching high enough to behold the entirety of the city, and thus lacking of bars adorning the windows, for only a suicidal man would dare jump from such a height and hope to live. And because those who hated life and at the same time were criminals were not greatly cared for, the architect has decided to make the windows grandeur. In the day, the sun would burn the imprisoned in all its glory, and in the night, bats frequented the cells, pestering the cellmates, sometimes to points of insanity. Not only this, but if a man inserted into this tower looked down from these windows, they would almost immediately feel vertigo.
But Leon was immune to the feeling, and as he looked down on the procedures he felt nothing but the sense something was to soon turn the smiles upside down. He now noticed, when he looked into the sky, that amidst the display of explosions, there were no stars, and instead, a crimson trail ran itself from one side of the horizon, to the other. It indicated no signs other than those of ill nature, and this very show of nature only strengthened Seth’s belief that soon it would all be done. And with this sign, he faced his back to the window, letting the moonlight bask his bare neck in its shine, and placed his eyes upon the grimy walls.
Standing out amongst the dirt was a single flower, a periwinkle. It had somehow grown out of the wall, perhaps from a seed planted by an inmate from times long past, and had survived its conditions, and not only this, but actually made itself to be one of the most grand flowers of the city, and for that matter, the world. The hue of the petals for a single instant reflected themselves in Seth’s eyes, and in the next, had disappeared and the plain white replaced itself around the hazel.
And although the sounds from the ground far below the room in which Seth stood continued to travel, he made rest with little trouble. Chapter Two “Wake up!” The warden yelled into Seth’s ear, and followed it with a backhand across Seth’s shoulder. The prisoner jumped from, what the warden called his bed. The cover of the bed was sewed from multiple fabrics, all of which didn’t suit the one that lied by its side, and the insides of the bed were stuffed with what was apparently wool.
But Seth never complained, and instead put up with each torment that made its way towards him. “Yes?” he replied, after rubbing the sand from his sides of his eyes. “You are wanted by his majesty.” Seth let out a few blinks, and then took a deep breath. “His excellence knows I exist? A man such as me is known to his lordship? Oh thank the Heavens, that the lord of Paleno knows my name!” And these words of mockery were followed by a brief laugh. “Tell the despot I shall see him not!” The warden did not look happy. “It is not your choice, Mr. Leon, to see him or not. I will take you before him whether it is your will or not.” The warden extracted a small flail from the belt around his waist, and seemed to judge its weight with is hand in a more than intimidating way.
Seth wondered about his next course of action, and decided it best to just follow the poor man doing his job. “Alright I shall come.” And the discussion was concluded. No further words were spoken as these two men travelled down the spiral staircase, passing by many cells, both lived in and not. The screams of the imprisoned wailed on long after they were gone. It had been half a year since Seth had first travelled up this very flight of stairs, and this was the first time he was travelling down them. Time had long since passed from when Seth had exclaimed in the marketplace that the city would fall.
But still he believed it would happen, and that it would happen very soon. As the guard opened the door at the end of the stairs, the sunshine poured into the gloomy ground floor of the tower, destroying the darkness and replacing it with itself. This sunlight was nothing like the one that the prisoners had to endure, which tortured them into sweats and death, but was rather refreshing to Seth’s skin. A breezy wind washed over him now, once again nothing like those experienced in the height which bit into the very bones.
Seth could not have been happier with his present situation, and apart from the approaching meeting, he felt it to be a perfect day. Through the streets Seth was led, and still the guard continued his vow of silence. The townspeople seemed to recoil in horror as they saw the man that Seth was. Seth towered high amongst the town people, often by a foot or more, and had for six months remained unshaved.
And so, for this very reason, a brown forest had made a home on his skin, now so pallor. Apart from these two aspects, Seth looked more than ordinary. He was clothed in a simple, white, cotton shirt, and black trousers which hung loosely around his legs, and dropped to his heels. From there a simple pair of shoes covered his feet, of auburn hue, dulled only by lack of use. There were no rips in the materials of which the two main pieces of clothing were made of, and yet on the tall, pale man, they were seen as having these holes.
Seth understood this, as he understood a lot. Common people would only see their side of the story, and if something did not fit into their perception of life, it would either be erased from knowledge or dressed to make it correct. A man of muscles and great height walking through the streets of a town like Paleno was unnatural, and to look like a well dressed man whilst doing this was not heard of.
And so, the holes were created to fit the savage image projected by the man named Seth Leon. And so he ignored the people who gawked at his figure, and continued on towards the palace. 
