Scribble: The other, much better piece I wrote based on Smiletron's forthcoming EP needs more work. And set-up.

      Slender fingers slipped between the cold digits of her artificial arm, warming her heart through the servomotors and sensors beneath. She wasn't sure how she had arrived in this place, full of trees and the sounds of life all around her, basking in the twilight of perpetual evening; only that she was there, and felt somehow like home to her. With a confused smile, she turned to her companion, only to be greeted by a slender girl in a flowing violet dress, her eyes the color of starlight.
      "You're beautiful," she said bashfully, almost instinctively caressing her companion's soft cheek with her other, normal hand. "Are you the one who brought me here?"
      With a nod, the beautiful stranger slid her fingers around the outstretched hand, gently kissing the tawny palm before pressing it to her cheek once more. "I am the one you're destined to free," purred a soothing voice, though the stranger's lips did not move, "and the one destined to love you."
      Without another word, the nymph cupped her face in the warm, almost glowing hands, closing the glistening pools of starlight before drawing her lips to the girl's own.
      And with their kiss, she awoke, moonlight slipping in through the cracks in the blinds, her lips still sweet with the taste of the stars.

Scribble: There is a star in Brooklyn tonight.

      A lonely star watched over the city, lost in the flashing lights of satellites and jetliners, no more than a ghost of starry nights past. Yet, far below, between streetlights and the dim hum of bodega signs, a pair of weary, heavy-lidded eyes stared skyward, not once drifting from the lonely point of light above.
      A flash in that place beyond sight, of a summer-yet-to-be filled with laughter, the kiss of gentle breezes and soft, familiar lips, of verdant days of adventure and starlit nights of tenderness. Fingertips drifted without stirring in the crisp evening air, memories of smooth skin, warm to the touch, floating to the surface. And far above, lost in the color of a star, the cerulean pools of ponds yet to be discovered, and the deepest beauty of unforgettable eyes.
      Soon, came a thought, joined by a laugh and an ever-present smile. Soon we'll be together again, my starlight...
      And somewhere between memories and dream, another star slipped into sight beside its companion, as a smile shone all the brighter.

Freeform: Permanence.

      Hidden beneath faded tattered robes, the lone observer stood upon the rocky shore, lost amidst the mist and crashing waves. From the darkness under its hood, two unblinking golden eyes peered out over the horizon, as though searching for something in the shapeless gray waters. Yet, with a hollow, tinny sigh, the seeker's watchful head lowered, as thin, metallic fingers wrapped tightly around a weathered staff.
      "Able," came a voice from behind, as the ever-vigilant eyes turned to face the newcomer. Clad in a traveler's cloak, she silently approached her companion, her footfalls barely seeming to touch the sodden ground. "Have your senses taken leave of you again, my old friend?" she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
      "No, my young Tesslyn," came the hollow voice in reply, "not yet, at least." Ancient joints clicked and whirred back to life, as the watcher extended an arm to the young traveler, beckoning her to come near. "Come. There is something you must see through the mists."
      A soft smile upon her face, Tesslyn nodded, stumbling over the jagged stones to her mentor. Looking up at the featureless face beneath the cloak, the young traveler patiently waited for Able to speak, as its unblinking eyes flickered with thought. As the waves crashed into the rocks below, she casually brushed little droplets from her short locks, as another splash rang into the air. Without a word, she kept watching over the emaciated shade beside her, the young traveler's shimmering blue eyes made even brighter by all the endless gray.
      "There!" came Able's sudden declaration, as Tesslyn's eyes followed the now-outstretched finger to some hidden point in the sea. As the mists of morning began to part, the shadow of some great and terrible giant emerged, its body rising from the water like some armored warrior of a forgotten time. With a gasp, the young traveler reached inside a small pouch at her side, quickly retrieving a small spyglass without averting her excited gaze.
      "That's a machine, isn't it?" she asked her mentor, peering through the lens at the new discovery. "Like you and the others, only much bigger!"
      "From a time best forgotten," came Abel's sullen reply, as something much like a sigh rattled his metallic body beneath his robe. "There is a reason, my young Tesslyn, why my kind are still here, while the Giants are not. If you are to be one of the Masters of the Gear, you must learn why that is, and hold it ever dear to your heart."
      "And why is that, Able?" the young traveler asked, lowering her spyglass and turning to her mentor.
      "Why, my child, we are here to create," came a synthetic chuckle, as spindly fingers reached for Tesslyn's arm, pulling back the sleeve to reveal ornate patterns atop her mechanical prosthesis. Smiling at the gesture, she watched as Able again turned to the sea, holding her tiny hand in both its own.
      "And they," Able began, again rattling as though heaving some great sigh from within, "were meant to destroy."
      Touching her own mechanical arm, the young traveler's smile gave way to awe, as she retrieved her spyglass once more to gaze upon the giant.
      There, atop an outstretched claw of what once was a hand, a great nest of birds prepared themselves for the day ahead...

Scribble: Learning to paint again...

      She carefully placed her toes onto the creaking wood, feeling the gentle waves rolling just beneath. In a single breath, her hands instinctively reached in any direction that might keep her from the chill water's embrace, as her foot crashed down onto the craft.
      “It's okay,” came a familiar voice, floating atop warm laughter. “You'll get used to it, I promise...”
      Catching the softness of her companion's eyes, she let a sigh slip away from behind her lips, corners curling into the smallest of smiles. With a deep breath, her other leg fell haphazardly into the boat, as her lithe body rocked with the rhythm of the waves.
      "Told you," came the familiar voice once more, as inviting arms wrapped around the nervous seafarer. "Now, shall we get started?"
      With a nod, the lithe young girl fell into an open seat, the wood creaking under the sudden weight. Looking out across the endless blue horizon, her squinting eyes followed wings of white, as the distant cry of gulls tugged at her ears. Far above, clouds mimicked their movements, drifting along on wings larger than the sky could hold.
      "It's beautiful here," she whispered, a gentle, crisp breeze tousling her shimmering silver locks. "Thank you for bringing me out here."
      With a smile, her companion simply tilted his head, motioning to the oar hanging idly beside her. Smiling in kind, the seafarer slipped the wood between her slender hands, as the shore started to slowly slip away...

Scribble: Growth of a kind.

      Sunlight glinting off of metal latticework, the builder paused before the yet unfinished dome, still enshrouded in its steel cocoon. A fierce wind, enraged at the affront to its desolate plain, threatened to choke ancient joints and gears alike with dust from the ground. Yet, beneath a tattered cloak, the builder simply stood, a humble chuckle ringing beneath the din.
      It will take far more than that, I'm afraid, the builder thought, steadying its metal frame with an ornate iron staff. Your purpose is desolation, while mine...
      As dust settled upon the arid ground, the cocoon once more emerged from the tempest's shroud, shining all the brighter. Heavy footfalls sending dust into the air, the builder began walking toward its creation, unblinking eyes focused upon a single emblem on the dome's exposed face.
      There, carved upon a copper plaque, rose a great and powerful tree from an endless desert...

Scribble: You can blame this on "Storm Coming."

      Running atop raindrops, the sleek machine kept a single glowing eye upon the horizon, an azure star streaking across the night sky. Long, slender antennae bobbed with each footfall, as powerful legs became nothing more than a silver blur shimmering beneath the moon. Puddles exploded in the runner's wake, the comet bounding over fallen trees and stones without second thought.
      There's little time, the runner thought, leaping into the air across a small cleft in the forest floor. Hope I'm not too late...

Scribble: What's this? Continuity?

      Mechanical eyes gazed out over the horizon, the lonesome figure standing perfectly still atop a jagged, frail cliff. A fierce wind threatened to rip away the observer's tattered cloak and scarf, holding back only for the great hammer clutched within its brass and copper fist. Paying the interloper no mind, the figure continued to survey the bleak landscape below, punctuated only with earthen spires and the ghosts of mountains long past.
      No life remains, it thought, bowing its heavy, round head in concentration. No . . . life never took roost here, beyond the beast...
      Memories of a single red orb flashed across its mind, the hideous creaks of ancient joints ringing in the air. Returning to the present with a shake of its head, the figure stood in silence for but a moment, before nodding to no one.
      Then this will be our new forge, it thought, turning to the narrow, rocky path leading to the valley below. With heavy steps, the observer began its long descent, wielding the mighty hammer as a staff with each step. Catching the faintest hint of birdsong in the air, it paused, its metal body heaving something like a sigh beneath the rags.
      And perhaps, it thought again, pausing to turn its eyes skyward, life will soon follow.

Scribble: New dawn.

      Kneeling before the rushing waters, the diminutive figure remained motionless, a slender statue of metal set upon the grass. Round, unblinking eyes gazed deeply into the creek, eagerly following the slightest movement on the riverbed, their lenses clicking and whirring all the while.
      "Keeping an eye on the fish again, are we?" chuckled a gravely, but cheerful voice, as a hunched-over man sauntered over to the water's edge. Leaning on a cane fashioned from some old colossal wrench or another, he chuckled again, running a thick, calloused hand through his whiskers.
      "Invertebrates," came the childlike reply, before the smaller figure turned to its companion, hesitant to break its watch. "I believe you call them . . . 'crawdads'? Is that correct?"
      "Ah, a regular astacologist!" the old man chuckled again, patting the smooth round dome of his companion's head. "Yes, they've been slowly making a comeback in these waters," he continued, dark eyes scanning the waters from beneath heavy wrinkles. "Ever since the generators went up long ago, everything in this region's been coming back, slowly but surely..."
      The sound of flowing waters soon overtook the conversation, as the odd pair simply searched beneath the surface, the old man's hand slipping to his charge's tiny shoulder. A single dragonfly appeared from places unknown, hovering in front of the little observer briefly, before finding a perch on the opposite bank. As its round eyes followed the creature, the small machine caught a glimpse of the windmills in the distance, dwarfing even the tallest of trees. Beyond the massive, sweeping blades, a small airship could be seen drifting over the horizon.
      "Grandfather," chirped the metallic voice once more, as unblinking eyes turned to the ancient visage, "will I ever get to see the world as it was?"
      "Mayhap," came the reply, riding upon a sigh. "If we're all so lucky as that."
      Round eyes returned to the water, immediately catching a small crayfish, walking along the sandy floor. "I hope so," the little one whispered, watching the creature saunter to a hidden friend...

Scribble: Storm's passage.

      A single heartbeat, rising above the din.
      Outside, just beyond the salt-eaten fence, turbulent waters lulled, as the faint cry of gulls carried on the wind.
      A single heartbeat, rolling like thunder.
      Outside, far above drip-dripping rooftops, fearsome clouds parted, the last flicker of lightning long ago fading into sunlight.
      A single heartbeat, erupting, bursting into the air.
      The echo of digital bells, ringing beyond the cracked glass, rising through the holes in the ceiling above. A weary, shaking hand flips the chipped casing open, doubting its own sense of touch.
      "Please," cries a voice from the receiver, static choking each breath, "please, please tell me that you picked-up..."
      A single heartbeat, slowing, calming, quivering.
      "Just tell me..." came a shivering voice, unsure of its own sound, "...tell me that this isn't a dream..."
      Two voices, muddled by static, joined in grateful sobs.
      A single heartbeat, rising above the din, joined by another...

Scribble: If this were film, it'd probably be rated "R" in this damn country.

      The steam still lingered in the air, carelessly brushing over the mirror. Droplets rolling down her skin, she stared at the ghost on the other side, standing bare and wet.
      Instinctively, her fingertips found the small silver pendant just over her heart, still warm to the touch. Twirling and fondling the little gleaming tear, her eyes shifted to the little piece of silver held so delicately in her hand.
      With a smile, she quickly jerked her hand away, still clutching the little tear. The weathered and worn string snapped almost instantly, lingering just enough for a farewell sting. With a single clink, she set the discarded pendant atop porcelain, as her hand pressed a healing touch to the back of her neck.
      Looking up, she could see the clear reflection of short, damp bangs. Taking a step back, the ghost had faded, leaving behind a tearful smile and the bare skin over her heart.
      "No more tears, I guess," she mused, wiping a stray droplet from the corner of her eye, as her hand fell gently upon her chest. "Time to begin anew."

Scribble: I miss my robots.

      Ghosts of verdant fields drifted on the wind, kicking up dust and debris in their passing. Surveying the rusted landscape, the wanderer carefully measured every step on the shifting ground underfoot, its great metal body swaying with each gust.
      Was it here? came a thought, as synthetic eyes whirred and clicked, trying in vain to pierce through the dust. If only this storm would relent...
      Within moments, the wind started to fade, as though heeding the wanderer's call for help. Dark clouds hanging over the sky slowly parted, as stray beams of sunlight pierced the dusty air. Even the restless dust settled on the ground, revealing the rusted skeletons of giants, scattered across the landscape.
      Ah! There it is! the wanderer thought, cylindrical legs clanking loudly as it ran. Just where the scanner indicated!
      Soon, the wanderer stopped before a colossal hand of steel and wires, its stubby fingers spread upon the ground. With a heave, cylindrical arms hoisted a single rusted digit into the air, before casually tossing it to one side.
      There, hiding in the small alcove beneath the palm, quivered a small family of animals, their brown fur coated in a thin layer of dust.
      "Found you!" the wanderer chirped, kneeling down beside the frightened creatures. Pulling a satchel from its shoulder, the wanderer extended a faded silver hand, as each took turns nuzzling its fingertips. "Come now," came the chirrup again, "let's get you guys somewhere safe..."