Nebula, I just noticed that in your drawing, there's a dragon in the trees! I may just be an oblivious idiot but I certainly didn't see it before. :)

Now for my description:

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Imagine a nice, sunny valley with giant mountains surrounding it. Nestled in the valley is a town. The cobbles are a nice, golden-like yellow, and in the Town Circle there is a nice, small fountain, burbling happily. On the edge of the Town Circle, there is a giant Mansion, the home of Chinchilla, black and green and blue with Chinchillas and other small rodents depicted in stone on it. There is, on the edge of town, the cave of a CBer, protected by laser barriers, but inside a nice, comfy home, and crowded inside the town is houses of all the CBers, all scrunched up side by side. Near the mountains is a giant stone catsle, and in the center of it, a warm paurler room, with beanbags and comfy chairs, with all the Admins busily typing away at vintage typewriters.

A door slams, a girl with blonde-gold hair runs out of the mansion, a top-hat on her head and a skate-board in hand, with a small, fluffy kitten with a top-hat and a minature cane, struggling to hold onto the girl. "LMDA!!!" Yells the kitten, and the girl stops, leans down, and lets the kitten, known as Frederic, to land on his hind legs onto the cobbles. Chinchilla smiles and quickly gets onto her skateboard as Frederic yells complaints at her, and a studious man with a notebook appears, starts to write down notes, then disappears.

The happy life of a CBer.

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I hope you enjooyed that. 

Happy belated Anniversary, thread!

This is entirely fictional.

She once held his hand and called a blizzard for him, was strong as a winter storm.

She had never loved, not like before.

She never realized she was a tool, even though people warned her that his love wasn't real.

Surreal.

How would you like to be with the God of manipulation, thinking he won't end you like the rest?

How would you like to dance with the God of manipulation, thinking you're careful, but you're a bird who flew from her nest?

You're just like the rest, thinking he is the best.

Now you're alone in a winter storm.

You made the snow fall for him, defended him like the Ice Queen, now you're alone with your snow, and he's melted away.

Just like a snowman on a hot summer day.

How would you like to be broken by the God of manipulation, left alone in a winter storm?

How would you like to be fixed, and make your heart feel warm?

He won't want you to be cold, you can be who you want to be, and for the first time you feel warm. 

Browsing through my poetry file... I'll share a few I like on here. Tell me if you want to read more??

Days

Days of heaven

Days of sins

Days to dance on silver winds

Time to sing

Time to hope

Lots of time to play a note

Days to fall

Days to fly

Sometimes even days to cry.

Okay, I have some questions about this section. First, though, some info: 

It's from Charles' perspective, when he first meets Arabella, AKA Sleeping Beauty. It's a few months after he left, four or five I believe??

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Why was I even looking for this girl? Who knew if I was actually her true love? The voice entered my thoughts again. Do not doubt us, Charles. Open the door. Your future awaits you.

I did so, trembling horribly. Inside, a girl lay upon the floor, as if dead. She wore a dress like the pale morning sky, with strange gold and white designs on the side panels. Light pink ribbon criss-crossed on the white stomacher of the gown. 

Her hair was the color of amber honey, her dark lashes long and curly, her skin as pale as snow, and her lips a pale pink, like the ribbon on her gown. And yet -- she breathed. I knelt beside her, driven by some sort of mad love for her.

My lips touched her own, hers as soft as a peach's skin, and warm, as if she were alive. I drew away, horrified at what I had done. I didn't even know her.

And then, she began to stir. Her head turned one way, then back the other. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her mouth barely opened. 

Her chest rose and fell gently, like the ocean waves. And then she opened her eyes, and looked right at me as I was scrambling backwards towards the door. Her lips, now turning more of a red color curved into a smile.

"You certainly took your time." She said, her voice like the shade of a tree in the hot summer's sun; her eyebrows quirking in a manner that immediately drew me to her.

"Forgive me, madam, I did not mean to make you wait." I said in a formal manner. She laughed, her voice not like a tinkling bell like most girls I knew did. 

Her laughter was like the sea, foaming and bubbling. "Well," She said, pulling herself up into a sitting position. 

"I do believe that I like you more in real life than in my dreams," She said, blunt as can be. But her frankness with me delighted me, not shocked me.

"Whatever do you mean by that?" I asked. She told me the same story that she told you, leaving me in shock when we compared memories and dreams.

"I was hoping that I would sleep for a hundred years, so that I could meet you. And I'm glad." She said, smiling at me so fondly that it made my heart jump.

~~~

Questions:

Is this too sappy?

Do you like Ara?

Is she too frank with him?

What do you like about this passage?