You are not connected. Please login or register

View previous topic View next topic Go down Message [Page 1 of 1]

1ART IS LIFE...[P] Empty ART IS LIFE...[P] Sat Feb 28, 2015 12:53 pm

Aomine

Aomine


D-rank
ART IS LIFE...[P] A_real_puppet_master_by_kyubisharingan-d2yecrm

ALL ALONE WITH MY THOUGHTS..
The puppet master lay on his bed and rested his head on the pillow stuffed with cotton. His half exposed body which was his upper torso lay straight to give him a posture of death. The silvery bed sheets that half covered him from toe to waist reflected the white light that shone from the ceiling of the room.
Dray stared into the nothingness that seemed to envelope his vision. His mind was as white as a lamb's skin. He tried to think but the many mysteries of this abandoned house would not let him. Still staring at nothing, dray simply moved his right hand to the side and reached for the piece of paper he had found in the house. Another clue it was. He had read it before now but he still felt like there was something more to gain from it. He had put it close to the piece of paper he had earlier found in the closet in the basement workshop and checked their similarities. He then concluded that this one paper he was holding definetly belonged to the father of the puppeteer and that the paper he had found in the closet was drafted from this original one. Dray held the paper to his face as he began to follow the contents with his eyes while reading it in his mind..

I. Holding the Shakujo and making this wish for all sentient beings, may I gather together a great assembly, show the Buddha's true path, and offer the Three Treasures. May I gather together a great assembly, show the Buddha's true path and offer the Three Treasures.
II. From a pure heart in the past, I gave the Three Treasures. Now emanating a pure heart I give the Three Treasures. In the future I will purify my heart and give the Three Treasures.
III. I pray that all beings become holy teachers with vows filling the universe, to the extent that all the suffering of everyone is assuaged in the Dharmakaya. I offer the Three Treasures that they meet the Buddhas and suddenly awaken to Bodhi.
IV. I pray that all beings cultivate the Absolute Truth with great mercy and compassion, that they cultivate the Provisional Truth with great mercy and compassion, and that they cultivate the One Vehicle with great mercy and compassion. I respectfully offer the Three Jewels of the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha, these three jewels within one body.
V. I pray that all beings perfect their generosity with great mercy and compassion; perfecting their morality with great mercy and compassion; perfect their patience with great mercy and compassion; perfect their energy with great mercy and compassion; perfect their meditation with great mercy and compassion; perfect their wisdom with great mercy and compassion.
VI. I pray that all beings everywhere hear the sound of the Shakujo; that the lazy become energetic; that precept breakers become virtuous; that the untrustworthy become reliable; that the stingy become generous; that the angry become merciful; that the foolish become wise; that the arrogant become humble; and that once free from obstacles they take heart, act with myriad skillful means and quickly attain enlightenment.
VII. For the benefit of all beings, I wish for a change of heart in the harmful beings of the world: the cruel and wicked people; the devils and evil spirits; the fierce animals, poisonous snakes and insects. I wish that all these beings hear the sound of the Shakujo, abandon all harm, emanate the Bodhi Heart, act with myriad skillful means, and quickly attain enlightenment.
VIII. For the benefit of all beings, I wish that all people everywhere come to the aid of those suffering in the hells, the hungry ghosts, those in the animal realms, and people in the midst of the eight difficulties of life. I wish that everyone takes upon himself the suffering of others, hears the sound of the Shakujo, and soon attains deliverance. To those fallen to temptations, gone astray, foolish, with divided minds, hindered, facing the 108 worries, I wish they all emanate Bodhi Heart, act with myriad skillful means, and quickly attain enlightenment.
IX. All Buddhas of the past have abandoned errors and taken hold of the Shakujo. Buddhas of the present and those now becoming Buddhas take hold of the Shakujo. Those who become Buddhas in a life yet to come will take hold of the Shakujo. Forever I bow to them, carry the Shakujo and give the Three Treasures. Forever I bow to them, carry the Shakujo and give the Three Treasures.
I give honor, reverence and offerings to the vast world of mountain deities reverence and offerings for the protection of the sanghia. Please, take mercy and protect all creatures.


Reading it again baffled dray. The man's father was a pure religious man but why the puppeteer wanted to do what he wrote down was confusing. Dray lay down the paper on the bed and closed his eyes as he began to calm his nerves and let whatever thoughts came through to sink into his head. He thought of what to do but nothing came throught. Still in bed, he stretched his hand to the drawer by his bed side. He opened it and picked out a book and a pen. He raised his right knee to allow his foot lay solidly on the bed. He placed the book on the elevated thigh and began to write without even thinking.

Art is life. Everything I can imagine is real. A life spent making mistakes is not only more honourable, but it is more useful than a life spent doing nothing. Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen. I might not look nice but I know I look like art. Art isn't supposed to look nice, its supposed to make me feel different. A good painter should begin every canvas with a wash of black because all things in nature are dark except when exposed to the light. I must have chaos within me, to give birth to a dancing star. Art is the lie that enables me to see the truth. The most beautiful experience I can have is enigmatic, the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art. It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done. I might be an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls. Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you. If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I will answer that I was born to live life to the fullest throught my arts. Art enables me to find myself and lose myself at the same time.

I dream my art and I make an art of my dream. We are only puppets, our strings are being pulled by unknown forces. Death is a release from the impressions of the senses, and from desires that make us their puppets, and from the vagaries of the mind, and from the hard service of the flesh. We are no longer puppets being manipulated by outside powerful forces: we become the powerful force ourselves. My puppets shall be far more liberated than I am for ventriloquism is a useful way of expressing myself. I could never be on the battle field on my own but puppets can say things that mere humans can't say. Funny enough, there have been puppets in everything I've written because I have a huge love of puppets. Puppets can be the worst of nightmare but yet, they are worth day dreaming about.

WC:1370

2ART IS LIFE...[P] Empty Re: ART IS LIFE...[P] Sat Feb 28, 2015 5:09 pm

Aomine

Aomine


D-rank
Dray flipped over to the next page as he was about to begin writing. What he was writing were facts coupled with feeling and couple with memories that he had learnt, felt and gained in the past few weeks. He wished that he could stop to do something else but he had always learnt never to ignore his inspirations or instincts because they had now became a vital part of his life and they were always almost right in some cases except for a few issues that had something else attached to it.

Fighting an opponent is not a big task. The trick is that you have to let them know they are holding the strings.
You can’t play hard to get. You have to give your all, leave your wounds open for the salt to be poured in cause that’s what it’s all about!
It’s about being defenseless with that one person, letting them crawl under your skin cause if it’s true, they’ll be the first to stretch out the helping hand. You may think that letting them hold your strings is a wicked thing but in the end, those strings that they’re holding..
Are the stiches they use to pull you back together... It's all about convincing them. It's become a part of me, always near but never seen. Born from torment, raised on agony. Devoured my innocence, taken my soul. The demon now has control, a new misanthropic mindset. Countless days, destruction reigned. Clashing thoughts and actions like swords on a battlefield. I've become a puppet, no longer able to act on my own. Pulling my strings I bend to its will, dance to his tune, aged and tattered, It has no use for me.
I look around and see nothing, only fading memories of happiness. The smile once upon my face, Washed away by tears of sorrow. A puppet today, A puppet tomorrow.

What if I one day die and become a human puppet, to an unknown master. I pray he is worthy of me. I didn't know
I was your puppet On a string. You tossed me, turned me.
Made me swoon, to your every word. I didn't know I was your puppet until you cut the strings, and I fell face-down
Into what I thought was love. No, I prefer to be my own master. Being controlled by someone else is worse than I thought. The easiets thing, The easiest thing, I shall make my dancing puppet. Dangling by my string. It will dance for me. Moving only when I want, smiling just for me. Dancing by my whims, fake smile and eyes blink open. Creepy wooden limbs. It will smile on my demand. Wooden original, though it will be- dance on my command.


Dray stopped for a moment as if he was not sure. He looked again at what he had been writing. His puppets were meant to be his companion and not just some normal children toys. He had written what came to his mind already. It could not be erased but it could be remedied. Dray looked calmly again as he placed the tip of the pen on the book and did what was required of him..

Only if I could make you to be more of flesh than wood. You smile. I laugh. You cry. I weep. You jump. I leap. You bleed. I am hurt. You sleep. I snore. You love. I love you more. You are my puppet. The string of love connects me and you. My dear puppets, if you ever find yourselves in the hands of a wrong master, act like the little girl in the next few statements.
The strings tightened their grip on her wrist. She couldn’t fight them. She needed help. The knives were so close, yet so far away. If only she could reach them. If she fought hard enough, She could. It’s happened before. They have escaped before. They fought, and they won. But there are those who didn’t win, Those who fought and lost. They were replaced. They were ignored They were left behind. That’s why she didn’t fight. She was scared. What if she couldn’t fight them? What if she lost? The strings moved her hands
As the puppet master gently moved them. Her hand rose above her head. The little girl below her covered her face
No. NO! STOP! She had had enough. The strings broke her skin as she resisted. The blood flowed down the strings
As she fought. The evil puppet master was getting impatient. I helped you. Now you help me. That’s only fair, right? He said.
For a second, she believed him. No. It’s not. She reached for the knives. She was winning. But they were still out of reach. Then the strings broke. She had won. She was free.
And she was done with the strings. It was a battle of life.

If you ever ever do develop true human feelings my dear little ones, do not think like this...
I am a puppet, held up by your strings. I am a puppet trapped in your ring. I am a puppet for you to enjoy, I am a puppet I am your toy. I am a puppet for you to use like hollow wood for you to use. I am attached I'm only yours
a puppets act to earn your applause. I am the peasant and you are the king and my only escape is to cut the strings
There is only one way for a puppet to die...
You must cut the strings and commit suicide.
No, do not think this way for you are more than that to me.

WC:970

3ART IS LIFE...[P] Empty Re: ART IS LIFE...[P] Tue Apr 07, 2015 7:04 am

Aomine

Aomine


D-rank
Dray closed the book he had been writing poems in and dropped the pen. He had written enough for just one day. He got out of bed and walked straight into the bathroom. He had a nice shower as he took his time in the bathroom. He emerged and dried the water droplets on his body with a green fluffy towel. He proceeded to dress up as he wore a black trouser over his already worn green shorts. he buckled the trouser at his waist with a black belt. Another black inner wear was the next clothing as he finally wore his overall like coat that covered up to his nose. He wore his high sole sandals that had a green like clothing going up his legs and finally, he tied a black headband that had no symbol unto his forehead. He equipped himself with the few basic weapons he had. Basic they could be called but deadly they were in his hands. Dray looked around his room before heading towards the door. He walked down the stairs as his own room was located on the upper part of the abandoned house. He got down to the living room as he breathed in the cool breeze that flushed in through the well ventilated room. There was hardly any heat in this house for it was almost perfectly built. Dray walked towards the door opening it as he exited the house and locked it behind him. He was going to the village’s market to get a few parts for some puppets that he was making. Puppets are art and art is fun, art is life. Making them gave him such sense of self that he did not have when doing something else thus why he could not wait to finish making them and have them with him wherever he went. He was going to develop a way to let them become his companions such that they would be able to converse with each other.
Getting to the market, he scanned through different shops looking for what he wanted. The search was endless. So many things attracted his attention but he could only give eyes to few. He wanted to make his puppet marvelous, the first of its kind. The first puppet to abide by his wish, the first puppet to protect him, the one to fight for him and in general, the first one to do anything that dray could imagine. Only when dray truly had one of his own could he be worthy of being called a puppet master. He focused on what he wanted. With the calm look that he always held, he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, picturing what he wanted his puppet to be and how he wanted it to be. In a matter of seconds, he had gotten it. He walked through the market without looking to his left or to his right. It was as if he was being controlled, like he knew where he was going. Dray walked into a medium sized stall as he began to bargain with the seller.
WC;520

4ART IS LIFE...[P] Empty Re: ART IS LIFE...[P] Mon Apr 20, 2015 9:19 am

Aomine

Aomine


D-rank
Dray bought the supplies he needed to make his new combat/ supplementary puppets as he headed for home. He sealed the items he bought from the shop in some scrolls he brought along with him to the market to ease his movement. He got home and walked straight to the basement workshop to begin work on his puppets. He was so excited that he would finally get to show them to the world but this expression only filled his mind not his face. He held his ever calm look and set to work. He dropped the supplies on the work table and put every tool in place. With no hand seals, he produced wood from his palms. Thick and flexible they were, enough to make four solid puppets. He placed a large piece of wood on the work table and picked up a saw. He began cutting it to shape in the exact form of a young human. He cut out the arms and legs and made sure to give the head it’s shape. Sketching out what he wanted, he picked up a chisel and began making his curves, chiseling out the eye sockets, the nose, ears and even the fingers and toes. He put so much work into this puppet that it was finally resembling a human child. It took him more time to make it almost perfect but when he was done attaching everything that needed to be attached to their various joints, there was something odd.
The little puppet had a hunch but dray took it to be creativity after all, there were humans who had hunches themselves. He dropped the tools and stepped back a bit. He activated his chakra strings as green intangible threads erupted from his finger tips. He strapped them unto the unfinished puppet that was on the work table and to his satisfaction, the puppet arose from the table and sprang to life. The scene was beautiful. It was a brilliant work. He set the puppet on the table once more and proceeded to add modifications to it. Offensive, defensive and supplementary mods, whatever would fit. With a single hand seal, he unsealed the supplies he had bought from the market from the scrolls. The first he installed was a kunai launcher. It was a hollow barrel that would be triggered by chakra threads to eject kunais from the puppet’s palm. The barrel would of course have to be loaded with kunais first. Carefully, he inserted this equipment in the puppet’s right arm. The equipment was able to launch the said kunais up to thirty meters away at a speed of twenty meters per second. Enough to catch an enemy of course. Dray scrolled through the supplies till he found another beauty. It was a forty meters long thick cord. Chiseling through the puppet’s left arm, dray passed the cord from the palm through the chiseled hole in the arm, down to the insides of the puppet. This cord would enable the puppet extend and retract it’s left arm at dray’s will and at a speed of fifteen meter per second too. That was two mods, two to go for this same puppet but dray was not tired yet rather he was excited that he planned to finish up all three puppets he intended to make.
He picked up a twenty two inches long blade and held it up high to see it well. A blade that could cause one over five inch damage to any affected skin would do no better than in close range combat so the best place for it to go would be in the puppet’s right knee and so it was done. The last mod was one that would prove tricky and useful in battle. It was a large cylindrical spray can. Installed in the puppet’s left leg, it would spray a certain ash that would obscure the target’s vision through pore holes that dray would chisel out on the puppet’s left leg. Swiftly, dray swerved over to the sewing machine and began to sew. He already knew what he wanted to sew and he had the puppet’s measurement in mind. A few hours more and dray was done. It was a long apparel of grey black and grey clothing. Wasting no time, dray clothed his first puppet and picking up a brush, he dipped it in black paint and drew a certain kanji on it’s fore head which was “CHI” meaning power. A few more touches to it like the artificial eye balls and others and the first puppet was created. Dray drank a cup of water and resumed work. He had a better idea on what he wanted to do with the next two puppets. This first one, CHI, was going to be his companion while the other two were going to be his twin meaning they would look and dress exactly like him. He placed another piece of wood on the work table and began working. Cutting and chiseling, smoothening and joining. It took him more time than the first puppet took him. This time, he made the other two puppets together. Their frames. Whatever he did to the first, he did to the second because they were meant to be the same and only their modifications would be different. Dray worked late into the night and he was finally finished. With sleep on his face, he worked on as he began to install the modifications unto the puppets. What he installed on the second puppet were shuriken launchers, senbon launchers, flame throwers, water blasters and unto the third, he installed, a large hammer, a harpoon, a chain yanker and a defensive gate. He moved over to the sewing machine and began sewing their clothes. He was done in no less than an hour as he clothed the newly made. He picked up the paint brush and unto the second, he wrote on the chest, a kanji for “WRATH” and the third, on the chest, a kanji for “TEMPEST”. He hung the three puppets and looked at their beauty, they were marvelous. The last two were a master piece, looking just like him, he was a genius. He slumped on the chair and fell asleep, it was a mission accomplished.
wc:1058

5ART IS LIFE...[P] Empty Re: ART IS LIFE...[P] Thu Jun 11, 2015 10:52 am

Aomine

Aomine


D-rank
The puppet master woke up to the calm breeze of another brand new morning. He rubbed his eye with his left hand as he climbed down from the bed. He went straight to the bath tub and rinsed his face. He put on his short and went outside of his house with his bare chest and a bag of tools. He had so much work to do today considering the fact that he would be leaving iwagakure no sato soon all thanks to Karumo Sekuro. He started with the garden in is frontage. He pulled out both the tiny and large weed and for the flowers that struggled to live, he re-transplanted them. He continued to put the garden in shape for a few minutes and after he was satisfied, he condensed suiton chakra in his mouth and rained down water gently on the flowers in the garden. Phase one was done. He moved towards his backyard where his farm was. He grew vegetables, fruits, plants and what other things were eatable. It had been quite a while since he came here due to the fact that he had been buying food items from the market lately so his farm was a total mess. He moved his hand and controlled whichever plant he wanted. This way, it was easier and faster to uproot the weeds, re-transplant some buds and even harvest some plants like potatoes and yams that were already developed. So much one could do with the power of nature.
Dray headed back to the front as he looked upwards. The main work of the day. It should not take much time due to his wood ability but it was still work. First, he had to solidify the foundation. Performing some hand seals, timber erupted beneath the house and stuck themselves to the original wood the house was made of. This way, the house’s foundation would be able to support the extra room that dray was planning on building on top of the first story since the house was originally a one story building. The foundation took a while to be completed as not only the outsides but the insides, the corners, the floors and the pillars were covered with strong timber. After this was done, dray hopped unto the roof with his bag of tool. He had the roof removed with a hand seal. He began construction as he first produced enough timber. He wanted the house to be strong, to withstand time and tide, so timber was his best option. He picked up his tools and started building another storey. It took him seconds, minutes, hours and almost a day to get this done. It was now evening and dray was done with the interiors and exteriors. Now, the roof was the last thing to fix on. Dray covered the house with timber, the roof was flat because dray had something in mind. He doubled the timber on the roof and made a door in the roof. After the roof was done with this door in it, dray built a step from inside the room to up the door in the roof. It was amazing. He jumped down and looked at the house from a distance. It was all covered in timber, one that would take a while to crack or give in to termites. It was a genius’s work. Dray’s skill with mokuton seemed to improve day by day. He was not at all eager to go to konoha and find out who he was and why he met himself in the land of stone rather, he was patient waiting for the right time. He still had a lot to do and that was why he would go to the land of lightning. His next home, Iwagakure had already done enough.
EXIT
WC:640
Total wc:4558

Sponsored content



View previous topic View next topic Back to top Message [Page 1 of 1]

Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum

Naruto and Naruto Shippuuden belong to © Masashi Kishimoto.